Filthy Little Pretties

by Trilina Pucci

  My teeth find my lip, my eyes dropping as I finally admit the only real worry I have.

  “Liam.”

  “It’s a nonissue, Donovan. You chose.”

  His words come out too fast, more like a defense rather than a factual statement.

  My head shakes as I lift it. “No. I told you I would never lose either of you. I wasn’t being dramatic or wishy-washy. I won’t give him up. He’s my best friend. And you shouldn’t ask me to.”

  Grey’s whole body tenses underneath me, as he easily lifts me off him and kicks his legs off the bed, throwing on a pair of sweats before walking toward the window. I knew it. We’re done. He’s not going to give.

  I watch him stalk to the window, silent, placing his palms above his head against the glass to look down, before he speaks words that make my heart hurt.

  “You’re asking me to share you with someone who I know loves you.”

  I wrap the blanket around me, staring at the fabric. “I know, but he doesn’t love me the way you do.”

  He spins to looks at me, the hurt shining behind those dark eyes. “I don’t want someone around who knows you as well as I do. He knows when you’re sad or scared. He makes you laugh. He’ll steal moments that belong to me. I want all of you.”

  I reach for a shirt that’s on the floor, leaning off the bed, sitting up to slip it on, before I stand and walk to where he’s waiting.

  “Grey, you have all of me. You know parts of me that no one else will ever know. You see me. He can’t steal what he doesn’t even know exists.”

  His hand reaches for the feather in my hair as his brow furrows while he listens to me speak. “You don’t get it. You’ve never shared me with Liam. You shared Liam with me. He’s my best friend, and he’s your brother, Grey. Our future has him in it. Don’t ask me to choose.”

  He exhales heavily, running his hand through his hair, as he tries to walk past me, but I don’t let him, wrapping my arms around him. “Please,” I breathe desperately, digging in my heels and forcing him still. Tears well in my eyes. “Can’t you try?”

  His hand comes to rest over my arms, a soft kiss landing on top of my head as he whispers into my hair, “And if I can’t. Would you choose him?”

  My lips press into his chest before I look up and rest my chin on him. “You. It would always be you.”

  But I would hate myself and you forever.

  He looks down at me intensely and so filled with love that I almost shudder. His hands cradle my cheeks as he lowers his face closer.

  “I’ll never ask again. I’ll make it right.”

  His lips meet mine, and I melt into him, running my hands up his back and savoring the softness of his skin. Goose bumps bloom under my fingertips as we kiss softly, falling into each other more and more, until his hands are roaming my body, slipping under my shirt as I wrap my arms around his neck.

  He picks me up with one strong muscled arm around my waist, never breaking our kiss. We stay welded as he carries me back to the bed, stopping at the edge of the mattress and locking eyes with me.

  “We’re skipping school today. Because I get to keep you to myself for one more day.”

  “Deal.”

  Grey

  MORE EYES THAN USUAL WERE on me this morning as I walked into Hillcrest. Two things were obvious: almost everyone suspects I burned the tree down, and all the same people think I did it because Donovan is dating Liam. It’s eerie how stories can be somewhat accurate and yet brushed away because they’re unbelievable.

  One smile from me, and the rumors began to die down.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I know it’s her, only because I’m watching her walk, head bowed, typing on her cell phone as she makes her way inside. The way she licks her lips tells me she’s texting me. My phones buzzes again, and I smirk.

  People shoot quick glances at her, parting as she walks, probably wondering what kind of drama will happen today. Seeing as how I made a fucking spectacle out of us on Monday, I don’t blame them. But one of the things I love most about Donovan is that the opinions of others don’t matter. Her head is held high, a secret smile hidden on her lips over whatever she just wrote, uncaring of anyone who is staring at her.

  I sneak around some people, hiding so she doesn’t see me, and step back inside an alcove that’s adjacent to an empty classroom. The space is shadowed, keeping me a surprise. Twisting the handle, I open the door and leave it ajar as I wait. As she walks by, I nab her blazer, jerking her into me and making her squeal as I pull her inside the empty room, shutting the door behind us.

  “Grey,” she laughs, eyes bright. “What are you doing? I thought we agreed to be incognito.”

  “Fuck that. Who cares? Kiss me.”

  I tug her toward me as she swats my hands until we’re so close I can feel the heat rising through her body.

  “I like it when you’re feisty, Cherry.”

  Our lips skim, almost touching, as our chins lift until she pushes back against my chest. “No. Anyone could catch us.”

  I growl, giving her a sneer as she winks at me. “Be good and I’ll let you do more than kiss me later.” My hands reach out for her as she steps away, back toward the door, laughing at me, but my bottom lip pushes forward in a small pout.

  “Come on, Cherry.”

  She gives a giggle, throwing me a small wave. “Nice try. Bye, Grey.”

  She turns to walk out of the class as the bell rings, pausing in the doorway as I call out.

  “Hey.” Her long blonde ponytail swishes over her shoulder as she looks back at me. “I love you.”

  She smiles wide and grabs the handle. “I love you, too.”

  The door shuts behind her, and I look down at my semi, shaking my head. Fuck. I just have to make it through the school day and practice, then I’m free to fuck her brains out. I adjust myself and wait a few minutes, pulling out my phone to check the messages she sent me.

  Cherry: My house tonight?

  Cherry: I thought since you say I remind you of cherries, I could decide what you taste like.

  It’s going to be a long day. I pull the door open, checking the hall before walking out into the emptiness toward class. I know she’s already seated, waiting for me. Since it’s our only class together, it’s my favorite. The minute I think it, a little bit of my happiness sours. If she’s in class, then so is Liam. This will be the first test as to whether I can really do this. Let him be in her life, the way he’s always been. I told her I wouldn’t make her choose, and I won’t, but that doesn’t mean this shit will be easy. Especially since I haven’t spoken to him since Monday. Now it’s Wednesday, and all my texts and messages have gone unanswered.

  My hand reaches for the handle to pull the door open, immediately seeing her face through the window set into the wood. She’s laughing at something Liam’s saying to her from behind. He reaches over her, trying to steal her pencil, but she pushes his hand away as he puts her in a mock headlock, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  It’s friendly, easy, not romantic, and I hate every fucking piece of it. I twist the handle, opening the door, and breeze in, her eyes meeting mine as Liam’s head snaps up to look at me too.

  He’s still pissed at me, or maybe he’s mirroring what I have no right to feel right now.

  “Thank you for joining us,” the teacher remarks.

  I grin. “You’re welcome,” I say, trying to keep the mask of nonchalance in place, even if I’m not remotely feeling that way.

  Fuck. This is hard.

  I walk to my seat across from Donovan’s, not missing how hard Liam’s holding his pencil, and lower down. My finger taps the desk, and I feel Donovan’s eyes on me. So I glance at her expecting her to be angry at me for my tension, but that’s not what I get. She’s amused. Goddamn her. I narrow my eyes at her, and she blows me a little kiss, before turning to face front.

  I can do this. Or I can fake it ’til I make it. He’s being Liam with her, like a brother, but we need to squash our be
ef and then I’ll feel better. I was an asshole to him, and I need to apologize so everything can find a new normal. I turn over my shoulder, locking my eyes to his, and say quietly, “We should talk.”

  “Nah, I’m good,” he cuts, chewing on that stupid toothpick.

  Great. He’s going to be a dick.

  Donovan’s eyes grow wide, but she stares forward. We both knew he wasn’t going to make it easy to apologize. But I’m running out of patience already. I rock my head to the side to crack my neck and clench my teeth together before I try again.

  “Can you not be a dick? I know I fucked up, but let me make it right.”

  His book slams shut as he stares at me, rage crossing his features. What the fuck?

  “I’m a dick?” he huffs, swiping all the shit on his desk into his book bag and standing.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  “Liam,” Donovan whispers, but he ignores her, opting to rub her back reassuringly, before walking right past her frown as the whole class watches in silence.

  The surprised teacher calls his name, urging him to retake his seat, but he says nothing as he flings the door open and leaves, letting it slam behind him. Donovan’s head swings to my face, and I want to kill him. He’s not doing this. Motherfucker.

  “Grey?”

  She doesn’t even know what to say because she’s never seen this version of him, but I’m familiar with it. This is Liam being the one person to hold me accountable. What I did…all of it—he’s going to make sure I pay until I prove I’m worthy of my privilege. Donovan being the privilege.

  “Grey,” she says more insistently.

  I smile reassuringly. “It’s okay, Cherry. He just needs to cool down. It’ll be fine.”

  But I’m not so sure that’s the truth. How do I explain to her that he may never forgive me for what I did to her—even if she could? Because what she doesn’t understand is that Liam and I both know that I’m not the one who deserves her.

  My eyes search the grassy area, past the tree company that’s digging and removing the remnants of my lack of reason, looking for Liam. Practice started a half hour ago. We’ve already run and stretched, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Fuck. Missing practice isn’t something we do. Ever. This is where we table all of our shit. Crew is a brotherhood. Not showing is a clear message to me.

  “Dude. Where the fuck is he?” Kai whispers, following my eye line. “I figured skipping out on lunch would be as far as he took it. I didn’t see him all day, though, after first period.”

  I shrug, moving toward our equipment and grabbing an oar. “I don’t know. Donovan said he’s not texting her back either. He’s obviously still pissed about the other day. He needs to get the fuck over it. Last I checked, I let him get way more hits in than I took.”

  Kai nods and grabs his oar, walking next to me down the wooden dock. His sneakers squeak against the wet wood, making us both look down.

  “I hate wearing shoes in the water,” he complains.

  “Better than your feet freezing,” I answer, squatting down to put my oar inside the tied-off boat.

  It rocks gently as the water makes small waves caused by the wake from the other boats out on the water. Coach yells at another pair in the water who aren’t doing what he wants, but I can’t really pay attention.

  “I mean…you can’t exactly blame him,” Kai muses behind me, calling my attention.

  My head swings around, a cold breeze making my crew sweatshirt billow. “What?”

  He hands his oar to me to put in the boat and crosses his arms over his chest. “Liam. Can you blame him for not wanting to be here? It’s bad enough he had to lose the girl—”

  “But here he’s reminded that he’s the number two…it’s even on his fucking shirt. I know.”

  I don’t blame him. All this time I’ve been focused on Donovan, on winning her, but now for the first time I’m scared I’ve lost the only other person who knows me—sometimes better than myself. Everything is beginning to feel complicated. More so than I’d like. Lowering down into the front of the boat after Kai, I look to the side, out at the murky water, feeling like an ass. I treated him like shit, too.

  “Hey. You know I’m sorry, right? I lost my head. Fucked up. But she makes me a monster.”

  I hear Kai laugh quietly as I take a deep breath.

  “But I shouldn’t have lost my shit on you. Your friendship is important to me. And you’re important to her. So, we good?”

  He pats my shoulder, and I turn back to the front. Remorse isn’t well practiced on me, but I’m feeling it. We push away from the dock and begin to paddle to our start point when he adds, “I feel like we should hug it out? Maybe kiss and make up?”

  He doesn’t even get the whole sentence out before we’re both laughing, loudly.

  “Fuck you, man. Let’s row.”

  I walk into her dimly lit room, shutting the door behind me quietly, as she looks up from her book. She’s laid out on her bed, on top of the blanket, one knee bent, her head propped up on her pillow. She smiles at me as I toe off my shoes and walk to her bed, depleted by my day and so fucking relieved to be with her.

  “Got past Vic, huh?”

  Crawling on top of the bed, I grimace. “He’s not a big fan of mine.”

  “Can you blame him?” she teases.

  A whoosh of breath leaves me as I bury my head into the crook of her neck and smother her with my frame, forcing her body to arch as I wrap my arms around her back.

  “Oh, baby. Bad practice? Or bad practice with Liam?” she says sweetly, peppering kisses to the side of my head and hugging me back.

  “He didn’t show,” I mumble into her neck. “Have you talked to him?”

  She rubs her hands up and down my back, and I relax a little more into my Donovan pillow.

  “No. I was giving him space. He’ll call me when he’s ready.”

  I groan, and she laughs, but I hug her tighter.

  “Am I smushing you?”

  Her chest vibrates as she laughs. “Yes. But it’s okay. You’re like my big Grey bear.”

  Kissing her neck, I pull my arms from around her and press my palms onto the bed, lifting myself off her, only to lower down into a push-up to give a quick peck, before I roll to my back, staring up at the ceiling.

  “He skipped out, huh? Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

  I hear the worry in her voice, and it makes me feel like shit, because all of this is my fault. My eyes meet hers as I shift to look at her. She squirms down to face me, lying inches apart, just staring at me. I love her. She’s waiting for me to speak, and it makes me want to say everything.

  “He’s pissed at me, and he’s right to be. What I did wasn’t cool, and I don’t mean all the shit from Monday. I mean back when we started. At the lake.”

  Her teeth begin to gnaw on her lip, as her fingers pick at those strings. She’s nervous to broach this subject. I am too, but it needs to be said because that was the tipping point. It’s also why it’s hard for me to see him play around with her like he did this morning. He’s played around with her. Felt her. Kissed her. And I don’t know if he thinks about that every fucking time her hand brushes his or she licks her lips.

  “I already knew I wanted you way back then. Damn, I think a part of me even knew I loved you. I should’ve said no when he started dancing with you that night. But we were drunk, having a good time, and I’d convinced myself that it was just some dirty fun. We knew it was a fantasy of yours…you made that clear in your sleep.” She smiles, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

  “And we’d done it before with girls way less deserving.” She rolls her eyes, and I grin. “But I told myself it wouldn’t mean anything because I wanted you. Except so did he. I knew that. I just should’ve said no and saved us all the fucking drama.”

  She leans in with that worried brow and kisses my lips, pulling back, then coming in again for a longer one.

  “What’s that for?” I whisper against
her lips as she pulls away.

  “For always trying to carry everyone over the finish line.”

  I prop up on my elbow, staring down at her and waiting for an explanation. She smiles before answering, “You can’t carry all the blame, Grey. We all decided. And I don’t regret anything. It happened. But you didn’t decide for us, and you don’t get to carry all the responsibility for the fallout. This was all going to happen, because feelings are complicated. Life is fucking complicated.”

  Damn. She always gives me exactly what I need.

  “I love you. Have I told you that?”

  I motion with my head for her to come kiss me again, and she does. Her lips press to mine, hungry and soft, as her breasts squeeze against my chest. She pulls away, all hazy and fucking adorable, lying back in her spot.

  “Do you think he’ll get over all of this?”

  “All of this? What do you mean?”

  “Well, you think he’s jealous because we’re together,” she states, fluffing her pillow, before laying her head down. “That’s what you’re implying. People always think from their own perspective. You’re jealous of him. Why?”

  I blink, struck silent. The way she says it, so matter-of-fact. Fuck. This girl. There’s not one demon inside of me that she hasn’t met, looked in the eye, and blown a kiss at. I couldn’t scare her away if I tried. I am jealous, because he’s the better choice, even if I’m the one she wants.

  “Because he wouldn’t fuck up, burn down trees, get jealous and possessive. But all of that is my fucking nature.”

  “That’s why we’re perfect. You’d never stop fighting. And I need that, as fucked-up as it sounds. I want someone who would demolish this city to clear the way to me. The right man had to match the kind of love I’d give. It’s my nature, too.”

  Everything she fucking says heals another wound inside of me. I reach down and grip the band of her shorts and jerk her closer to me. “Good, because I’m keeping you. But I think he feels robbed. Like he deserved you, and that’s worse than jealousy because it means he’s the winner without the trophy. So no, I don’t think he’ll get over this anytime soon.”