Presently Perfect (Perfect #3)

by Alison G. Bailey

  “I fucking warned you about touching her!” I screamed, slamming my fist into his face again.

  He shoved me, followed by his fist connecting to my jaw. I stumbled back, shook off his punch, and barreled straight into his chest, tackling him to the ground. Sweat poured from my face and bounced off Brad with every punch to his head.

  I was so in the zone I didn’t realize anyone else was around until I heard Tweet’s voice scream, “Noah stop it! You’re going to kill him!”

  Two sets of hands latched on to my arms and pulled me off of Brad. Tweet immediately went to his side, knelt down, and draped her arm around his shoulder. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, pleading for me to calm down.

  What the fuck was she doing?

  I thought she would come with me and we would leave together. When she didn’t make a move, but instead stayed by Brad’s side, comforting him, I got lightheaded and my stomach hardened.

  She’s actually choosing him?

  As I shook my head in disbelief I saw Spencer and Travis standing on either side of me, their hands still attached to my upper arms.

  Shrugging out of their grasp, blue eyes pierced teal ones, and I snarled, “Is this what you want? Some mother fucking son-of-a-bitch who just wants to get into your pants?”

  I waited like I always did for her answer, for her to make the next move. Tweet did what she always did and turned away. I should have been used to it by now, it wasn’t the first time she had chipped away at my heart. But when you love a person so completely, there was that part of you that constantly held out hope that this time they’d be more careful with your heart.

  I spun around and bulldozed my way up the steps and into the house.

  Why wouldn’t she listen to me?

  She knew I would never lie to her. I warned her and she still chose him over me. I couldn’t get the image out of my head of his lips and hands on her. She was mine and those were my lips the Smurffucker was kissing. I had never felt this much rage in my life. I had to calm down and get numb. Passing through the house, I grabbed the two things that I knew would do the trick.

  Forty minutes and two and a half beers later, I was upstairs in a bedroom, relatively buzzed and about to ram into Brittani. We had been hooking up on a regular basis over the past few weeks. I realized during the second time we had sex I was able to block everything out and get lost in the unconscious physicality. All I wanted was to get to that moment I craved the most. When I closed my eyes and pretended that the girl I was inside of looked at me with love in her teal-colored eyes as I ran my fingers through soft dark brown hair. That moment when the hands touching me and the legs wrapped around me belonged to Tweet.

  After pushing Brittani’s skirt up, I grabbed her hips, buried my face in her neck, and shoved her against the bedroom door with a loud thud. A deep groan rumbled from my chest as I lowered her onto me.

  “Oh baby. Yes. Fuck me hard,” she moaned.

  Shit! The picture of Tweet I had in my head, lying naked across my bed was just erased by that fucking high-pitched drawl.

  I pressed against her with more force, thrusting faster. Brittani’s legs clamped around my hips, pushing me deeper. Her fingers twisted and tangled in my hair.

  With one hard tug, she yanked my head up, and demanded, “Kiss me.” I kept thrusting. “Why won’t you kiss me on the lips?”

  She was ruining everything. I couldn’t pretend if she kept talking.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I grunted.

  “I can’t talk now either? Fine, then finish fucking me.”

  I tore my face away from hers and thrust two more times. My body stiffened, her body shook, and I was done.

  I eased out of Brittani as she uncoiled her legs from around me and placed them on the floor. I stepped back, removed the condom, tossed it in the trashcan, and zipped up my jeans. Brittani readjusted her clothes and fluffed her hair. Our movements were a silent routine. Void of emotion or connection. And when I didn’t get the moment I was chasing, the one in which I could pretend I was with my girl, the emptiness overwhelmed me.

  I walked to the door, placed my hand on the doorknob, and inhaled a couple of deep breaths before cracking it open. I peered out, making sure the hallway was clear. Rumors were already flying about me and Brittani hooking up. I didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.

  With my head down, I stepped out of the room and left Brittani applying another coat of gloss to her lips. An immediate prickling sensation covered my body. The hallway wasn’t empty like I thought. I had this reaction around only one person. Out of everyone at this party, why did she have to be the one standing outside the door? I looked up and felt the blood drain from my face as my heart and stomach took a nosedive. I stood motionless, having lost the ability to speak or think clearly. Panic flashed through my mind as Tweet’s shocked expression stared back at me.

  I hurt her.

  I disappointed her.

  I disrespected her.

  I loved her.

  I’d do anything to make this up to her.

  I couldn’t lose her.

  She’s my everything.

  I hadn’t noticed that Brittani was behind me until her squeaky voice pierced my ears.

  “Well, hello Amanda. What are you doing here?”

  I remained silent and in the same position until I felt arms creeping around my waist. I quickly stepped to the side away from Brittani’s grasp while my gaze stayed glued to Tweet.

  Brittani moved toward me. Hot breath mixed with the smell of beer and bubblegum lip gloss hit the side of my face. “Baby that was amazing as usual. No one fucks me like you. The way you suck my…”

  “Shut up, Brittani,” I bit out.

  From the corner of my eye I saw the shadow of Brittani’s hand approaching. Angling my head away from her, I cut off her attempt at weaving her fingers through my hair.

  “What’s wrong?” she whined.

  “Get out of here,” I spit out through clenched teeth.

  Tweet’s gaze shifted to Brittani. Little by little her expression transformed from stunned blankness to devastation. There was a slight tremor taking over her body as her eyes glazed over with tears.

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Brittani said and then headed downstairs.

  I wanted to start everything over—this night, this year, last year. I wanted to go back to the first time Tweet had a negative thought about herself and beat the shit out of that thought. That one thought led to the next, and the next, and the next, until she was buried under an avalanche.

  Suddenly, Tweet’s hand slapped over her mouth and she ran toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Slowly and mindlessly, I headed in her direction. I was scared to death that our friendship was irrevocably shattered. I had no clue what to do or say. I just knew I had to go to her, explain, and pray that she’d forgive me.

  As I got closer to the bathroom the sounds coming from behind the door ripped into me. Sobs broke in between bouts of gagging. Tweet was sick to her stomach because of me. The sobs got louder and faster. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to get to her.

  I knocked softly on the door.

  Silence.

  I knocked again and asked in a low voice, “Tweet, are you alright? Can I come in, please?”

  She gasped for air, trying to get control of her crying.

  “No and no!” she screamed.

  I quietly jiggled the doorknob and found it unlocked. I inched the door open, stuck my head in, looking for her, and then swung it wide enough to step in. Tweet scrambled to her feet, moving toward the sink as I closed the door.

  Staring at me through blood red eyes, she choked out, “Stay the fuck away from me Noah!”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this right now.” My throat felt thick, the words struggled to get out. “I am so, so sorry.”

  “For what? I’m not anything to you,” she said in a cold flat tone.

  Her words slapped me in the face. I knew it was the hurt and disa
ppointment talking. She didn’t mean it. When she said shit like that, part of me wanted to shake some sense into her and the other part of me wanted to kiss her senselessly.

  “It doesn’t mean anything. She’s just a fuck.”

  “Wow! What a romantic you are.”

  I’m not perfect like you think, Tweet.

  I raked my hands up and down my face, considering whether or not I should admit to her that I’d failed at staying in the friend zone.

  “I was angry with you for choosing him.”

  “You’re not going to blame me for what you just did with her. How could you with her?”

  Tweet stomped toward the door. As she brushed passt me, I reached out and grabbed her upper arm. She looked straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact.

  My gaze traveled up her blotchy tear-stained faced up to her lifeless eyes. “I don’t know. When I saw you kneeling by that Smurffucker, helping him… it tore me apart.”

  “So you fucked Brittani to get back at me?”

  “No! I wasn’t trying to get back at you. I just wanted to feel numb.”

  I wanted to be with you.

  She turned her head in my direction. Tears trickled down her face as we looked at each other for a brief moment.

  Jerking out of my grip, she stepped back, and said, “Why with her?” She paused, choking back a sob. “You didn’t see the look on her face when she came out of that room and saw me standing there.” She drew in a shaky breath. “She looked so goddamn smug. She knew she had something that I never would.”

  Tweet bit down on her bottom lip, her body jolted before the sob finally broke free. I couldn’t stand it any long. I wanted to touch her and wipe away the tears. I raised my hand slowly to her face. Her gaze fell and she shrugged away from me.

  I dropped my hand and said, “You do have me. Every part of me. You always have. You just don’t want me.”

  Tweet’s head snapped in my direction. Her body became rigid, her jaw locked, and her lips flattened into a straight line. When I saw the intensity of her glare I knew I had hit a nerve with my last words. She took a slight step forward, placed her hands on my chest, and shoved me back, away from the door. The next thing I knew, the door flew open and she took off, running like always.

  Going after Tweet wouldn’t have accomplished anything at that point. She was terrified. I could see it in her expression. She overanalyzed things, playing out every possible scenario in an attempt to control her feelings and reactions. Tonight when she saw me step out of that room, that control was stripped from her. Instead of letting go of her heart and head on her own terms, all the emotions came crashing down, and the sheer force was devastating.

  I walked downstairs. The party had quieted down with most people either passed out or making out. Even though it wasn’t the time or place to talk, I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave Tweet here with the Smurffucker. I looked around the room but there was no sign of them. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I was glad to see she wasn’t part of one of the couples hooking up, not that I thought she would do that on a first date. I checked out the back deck. Still no Tweet. I walked out to the front porch. Scanning the cars, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Brad’s car still here.

  Coming back inside, I looked up and witnessed the Smurffucker dragging Tweet by the hand, up the stairs. By the time they made it to the second step, my hand was wrapped around Tweet’s wrist stopping them. She stumbled back against the banister. The strong smell of tequila hit me in the face. Her glassy eyes looked at me in confusion for a few seconds, and then finally registered that it was me.

  “Noah!” she slurred, a huge smile plastered across her face.

  I was standing one step below Tweet when she broke free from Brad, twisting her body in my direction. I let go of her other wrist and caught her as she fell toward me. Her arms wrapped around my neck as I grabbed hold of her hips, trying to keep her steady.

  Tweet’s head tilted back as she clung to me. “Look, Brad! It’s Noah! My Noah!” Her voice was ear-splittingly high. “He’s so sweet and sexy. He’s swexy. He licked my thigh under my parents’ dinner table.” She straightened her head, bringing her forehead to rest on mine. The look in her eyes had turned smoldering, her voice husky when she asked, “You remember licking me, Noah?”

  We had a huge fight just a little over an hour ago and now she was completely wasted; her clothes were rumpled, she had pieces of sand stuck to her face, her hair was a tangled windblown mess, and she reeked of tequila and the ocean. But she was still the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes on. My expression teetered from snarling at the Smurffucker to wanting to smile at Tweet.

  God, even drunk she’s adorable.

  I was either the biggest idiot known to mankind or so beyond in love with this girl that all my common sense and self-preservation got obliterated when I was around her. My heart was pounding against my chest while the temperature in the room soared. The tension in my muscles was beginning to disappear and I was getting lost in teal eyes. I needed some distance.

  My hands moved to Tweet’s shoulders and I helped her stand upright. “I’m taking you home.”

  “But Brad was going to do some things to me on purpose. I don’t know what, but I’m having fun. Hey! You want to come with us?” she asked, hooking her arm around mine.

  My gaze zeroed in on Brad glaring down at me, his jaw clenched tight. My priority was to get Tweet home safe. I’d deal with this asshole later.

  I snaked my arm around Tweet’s waist and led her down the steps. She was abruptly yanked away from me. I whipped around and saw Brad clutching Tweet’s arm.

  “Haven’t you done enough to her tonight? She’s having a great time with me, so get your fucking hands off of her,” he growled.

  Tweet smiled up at him, then turned to me, and said, “I really am having fun. He’s not a Smurffucker at all.”

  Glaring at Brad, I grabbed Tweet’s hand, and led her toward the front door. We had taken two steps when I felt her being tugged away from me again. I let go of her hand, walked over to Brad, and punched him in the stomach. His hand fell from Tweet as he doubled over and dropped to the floor. I picked up Tweet, tossed her over my shoulder, and finally headed out uninterrupted.

  Just before reaching the front door Tweet grabbed the waistband of my pants, lifting herself up slightly, and yelled, “Bye-bye, Brad! Thanks! Maybe you can lick my thigh next time! Bye-bye!”

  Once we were at my truck, I lowered Tweet off my shoulder until her feet touched the ground. Her eyes struggled to stay opened, losing the battle, right before she passed out. I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her body against mine while I unlocked my truck. I placed her in the seat and leaned over to fasten her in. The click of the seatbelt caused her to stir. Reaching my hand up to her face, my thumb brushed away the dusting of sand that clung to her cheek.

  Her eyes stayed closed as a lazy grin slowly appeared across her pink lips. “Mmmm…,” she moaned. “Noah.” She sounded breathy.

  “Yeah, Tweet?”

  “You’re my knight in plastic armor.”

  A slight chuckle escaped me as I remembered our Halloween costumes from when we were six years old.

  “You always take care of me and make sure I have candy,” she said, her voice trailing off.

  I stared at her for several seconds, simply enjoying the view. As I inched away from her, she shifted in the seat.

  Another slight moan flowed over her lips, and she whispered, “I love you Noah.”

  I knew she wouldn’t remember saying those words to me tomorrow, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that counted was that for the first time she let go of her heart, her head, and allowed herself to love me. There was nothing better than when the girl of your dreams made all of yours come true.

  “Noah, your room is like a ride at Disney World,” she said, half moaning and half whining her words.

  Tweet was fast asleep when I pulled into my driveway. Once I had the d
oor to the passenger side opened and the seatbelt unfastened, her eyes fluttered in an attempt to wake up. She giggled when I scooped her up, lifting her from the truck. Her arms tightened around my neck as she nuzzled up against me, her lips touching the spot right below my ear. Our parents were spending the weekend at Myrtle Beach on their annual getaway. Tweet was in no condition to be by herself and I knew in the morning she’d really be feeling the effects of tonight, so I brought her back to my house to take care of her.

  I carried her to my room, sat her on the bed, and then went to my dresser to grab a pair of boxers and a T-shirt for her to change in to. I turned around to find Tweet sprawled out on her back across my bed.

  When I walked over to the bed, she lifted her head slightly. One eye squinted open, spotting the clothes in my hand.

  Her nose and lips squished up in confusion. “You wear plaid underwear?”

  Before I had a chance to answer, her head fell back onto the bed with closed eyes and a relaxed face.

  “Sometimes. Why?”

  “I never dreamed of you wearing plaid boxers.”

  The idea of her dreaming of me in my underwear made me grin.

  I sat the boxers and shirt beside her and said, “Change into this. I’m going to get you some water and aspirin.”

  “What am I going to do about my parents? I can’t go home like this.” Panic flowed through each word.

  “Both our parents went to Myrtle Beach this weekend. Remember?”

  I took two steps toward the door before her plea stopped me.

  “Noah! I can’t sit up. Help me!”

  Tweet was in the same position, lying on her back, except now with both arms pointing straight up toward the ceiling. My grin grew wider, I shook my head, and walked back to her. When our hands connected, I pulled her into a sitting position. Her body swayed and her head wobbled from the movement.

  Tweet’s fingers fumbled, trying to unbutton her jeans, never quite making contact with the actual button.

  After several failed attempts, she looked up at me, batted her lashes a couple of times, and said, “I seem to be having difficulty locating the actual boot-ton and zip-pah.”