That cock has been inside me.
Deep-throated me.
And it looked even better in person.
It’s lessthan 24 hours before I realize Niko isn’t going to do any of this my way.
He starts posting pictures of us on his public profile the next morning, after coming up behind me and grabbing a selfie of the two of usin Onyx House kitchen.
He’s already trying to lay the groundwork for our budding “relationship.”
He asks me to join him for lunch a few hours later.Demandsthat I get lunch with him, actually, to talk about our plans.
He’s a whore for social media to begin with, but from the moment we agreed to each other’s terms, he’s already been making it his little pet project to craft a believable public story.
I meet with him in the Kettle, the smaller dining hall on campus, and I feel like I’m trying to contain wildfire.
“I just got to the Crimson campus, so nobody would buy that we’re boyfriends already,” he tells me from across the table before we’ve even sat down.
I reach over and push on his shoulder. “Shh. Keep your fucking voice down.”
He looks at me like I’m insane. “Nobody’s going to hear, Ollie.”
The Kettle is busy today, though. The dining hall is styled like a tavern, with thick wooden beams along the ceiling and walls and pendant lights above each table.
Students are walking in every direction with trays full of food, talking and laughing. Usually, it’s the coziest place on campus.
With Niko around, it’s practically overstimulating.
Or maybe Niko just makes me feel that stimulated no matter where I am.
“You underestimate the Crimson gossip mill. Last thing we need is someone catching wind of this being fake and spreading the rumor at lightning speed.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
I watch him push up the sleeves of his crisp white hoodie, revealing the colorful tattoos on his forearms.
I notice a small tattoo of a knife, a bigger one of some sort of orange flower, and a tiny black cat, but there are more that wrap around that I can’t make out.
It’s strange to be across the table from him.
His hair looks messy in that typical model way that manages to look perfect, and his cheekbones are even more prominent under the pendant light above the table. He has one silver piercing at the top of one ear, and his necklace hangs at the front of his hoodie.
You always were so much fucking cooler than me.
Exuding confidence and sex appeal like an aura around you.
And now I’m sitting here, brought into your orbit.
I force myself to stop staring at him as he sets his phone down on the tabletop between us.
He shows me what he’s planning to post.
“This is a perfect picture,” he explains. “It’s casual.”
It’s a photo of us that he just took a minute ago, where he’s looking at the camera, sipping on a glass bottle of cherry soda while I stand at the edge of the table with my food tray in front of me.
“So you’re going to make people think we’re casually becoming friends, then gradually start to post morecoupleypictures?”
