Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 111464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
The bed is unmade, but other than that, there’s no sign of anyone having stayed in here at all. I walk toward the bathroom sink, running my hand across the cool marble, and drop down on the edge.
I pull my phone out, deciding to scroll through Instagram until Alex gets here.
My notifications are insane, dozens of tags and mentions from friends who spent the weekend with us.
I start scrolling, reacting to each post, but my finger freezes when a picture shared by Nico pops up, or should I say pictures?
It’s almost like a moving image, a small collage of four images.
They’re from yesterday on the dock before dinner.
It’s me and him, a few of our friends on the other side of us, Macy right beside me looking up with a grin, but we’re the focus and... holy shit.
You’d think we planned out the pose and each one after, but I had no clue a camera was pointed my way.
In the first shot, Nico has his arms draped around my shoulders while I’m gripping his forearms. His mouth is slightly open, his lips at my ear. This must have been taken when I blinked, because my eyes are closed and that’s the only explanation for it.
In the second picture, I’ve turned my head, our faces are only an inch or two apart and we’re looking into each other’s eyes. The third, I’m licking my lips and his gaze is lasered in on my mouth, and the fourth, his eyes are locked dead with the camera while mine are glued on him.
We look...
Like way more than a weekend fling.
The tagline reads, ‘Bay this weekend’, and he hash tagged it bay with my bae.
His bae?
I look to the timestamp, and something stirs in the pit of my stomach.
Less than an hour ago.
After he left.
I go to his profile, hovering for a moment before I decide to send him a message.
Me: saw the pictures.
I pause to think before adding to it.
Me: thanks for an entertaining weekend.
I wait about a minute, staring at the chat to see if it’ll show if he’s read it or not, but then I stuff my phone in my pocket and move back to my room right as Carley shouts from hers.
“Demi, you still have sodas in your cooler?”
“Yeah!” I tell her. “I have Gatorade, a few waters, and candy left, too.”
I pull my door open, propping it with the little desk chair right as Alex walks up.
“Ready?”
I smile. “Yeah, I—”
My phone beeps, cutting me off, so I pull it from my pocket.
It’s a text from a number I don’t have saved, and a screenshot of the message I sent to Nico, thanks for an entertaining weekend highlighted.
Another text comes through.
Unknown: funny, D.
“Should I grab your bags?” Alex offers.
“I, um...” I trail off, slowly lowering my phone to my side, but it beeps again.
Unknown: we’re not done.
I pull my lips in.
“Demi.”
My head pops up. “I’m... I need to ride with the girls after all. I have all the snacks so...”
Alex frowns at my horrible excuse, and a forced grin follows. “Yeah, cool. See you at school.”
I nod, smiling after him as he turns and walks away.
Once he’s out of sight, I frown.
What did I just do?
My phone dings.
Unknown: good girl.
I can’t help it, a laugh bubbles out of me, but then I pause.
How did he...
Trent steps into the long hallway, coming out of Krista’s room a few doors down and heads right for me, her bags flung over his shoulder and another hanging from his hands.
He tries to fight a smile.
Wow.
“Really, Trent?” I raise a brow as he walks by.
He laughs, glancing over his shoulder with a shrug. “Gotta share those snacks, Dem.”
I laugh back, shaking my head.
Yeah, that was pretty lame.
Of course, Trent had to go and call Nico.
My phone beeps again, but this time when I look down, it’s a notification on Instagram.
Nico posted another picture, tagging me in it this time, even though I’m not in the image.
It’s him in a hoodie, half his face covered with his arm, nothing but those dark eyes, and thick lashes showing. It looks as if he’s lying in bed, but I can’t be sure. The caption though... no mistaking his meaning as it reads get that ass home @DemiTheeDancer. Your man is waiting for you.
I roll my eyes, stuffing my phone in my pocket.
My man, huh?
I guess we are playing our roles a little longer.
“Okay, girls!” Miranda claps her hands. “I hope you enjoyed your three-day weekend, because we’re pulling doubles the rest of this week. We already know we won’t be performing for the school until Senior Night, but what I haven’t shared yet, is the principal has asked the dance team to lead the varsity players onto the field at the game.”
“Cheer always leads the team,” one of the girls points out.