“Angsty Perfection”—S.M. Soto, author
Donovan Kennedy is the girl dreams are made of.
Five years ago, she was our best friend.
Our moral compass.
The girl that held our hands everywhere we went.
The three of us were young. Innocent.
Nothing could touch us — not even heartache.
That was then.
Now she’s back. All grown up.
With red lips and long legs — a challenge waiting to be accepted. A prize that’ll turn our world upside down.
Brothers turned to enemies.
Hearts torn apart.
We never expected to fall for the girl.
In the end, she’ll only choose one —Me.
The boys laugh, pouring only two shots. They both stand staring at me, Grey to my right and Liam to my left, as my head shifts slowly between them. It’s my turn to toast. Liam licks the side of his glass, cleaning some liquid that’s spilled, and my eyes dart to his tongue, watching it drag over the smooth surface, lapping up the Jack.
Before I can stop myself, the words are already out.
“To bad ideas and the boys who get me into trouble.”
The shot glasses hit the counter the minute they drink, and I tip my head back laughing. I rub my lips together and smile at them. “We need music.”
Liam grabs the bottle of Jack and walks over to his phone that’s on the counter, picking it up and looking down with a serious expression. He stays that way for only a moment before his beautiful face pops back up smiling, as the music filters out through speakers in the ceiling.
I wander over toward the couch, Grey right behind me, as the music amps up, hitting a crescendo. Liam turns it up loud, and Grey grabs me, spinning me around. We start to jump and thrash our arms around, Liam joining in, losing ourselves to the music and yelling to the ceiling. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.
The oversized shirt I’m wearing bounces up, exposing glimpses of G-string, but I don’t care because it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except this night.
Liam takes a swig from the Jack and passes it over to Grey as I shake my hips and turn in a circle. I lick my lips, my teeth sinking into the bottom one, as Liam comes up behind me, matching my rhythm and swaying back and forth. His hand splays over my stomach, and the warmth I was feeling from the liquor feels like ice in comparison to his large palm. He turns us to face Grey, who is standing stock-still, bottle in hand and a cigarette lifting to his lips. He takes in a long drag as he watches us dance. It’s the way he watches that makes my entire body feel on fire.
He’s arrogant. Entitled. Like a goddamn king. My very favorite version.
My eyes drift to his torso, taking in the tattoo again and smiling. It’s fitting for him— “I am not led, I lead.” He does lead, everyone but me. In fact, I’ll never tell that I already knew what it meant. Sometimes, it’s more fun to let him believe his saying.
He juts his chin, calling me to him, but I don’t move. Try again. Liam nudges my waist, speaking into my ear. “Go on, Van. He won’t bite. Unless you ask him to.”
Holy, hellfire and brimstone. I’m going to burn for this. Closing the three feet between us feels like the longest walk of my life, each step erasing the line before it. My throat is dry, but I’m already wet everywhere else. My thoughts are barreling around in my mind like they’re all in a freefall. But all I know is that I want whatever Grey has to offer.
Grey looks down at me as I come to a stop in front of him, peeking up through my lashes.
“You wanna hit?” He brings the cigarette back between his lips, sucking in the smoke, and I nod, but he doesn’t hand it to me, just blows up into the air. Grey’s eyes lock to mine as his head tips back down.
“Ask me nicely.”
My hair is swept over my shoulder as the heat from Liam’s body engulfs me from behind. His lips graze my neck as he inhales up my jawline, making my head tilt and breath suck in between my teeth. Lines aren’t just being blurred. They don’t fucking exist anymore.
“Come on, Van. Ask us nicely,” Liam whispers, and my eyes shut.
When I open them, Grey flicks his cigarette into the fire. He licks his lips, letting his eyes drift down my body to where Liam’s finger is tracing the hem of the T-shirt at the top of my thigh. Liam’s finger runs back and forth indecently slow, barely ducking under the fabric, but I’m already panting, wet, and hungry. So fucking hungry. They’re really good at this.
“Were you actually talking about smoking?” I ask, already suspecting the answer.
“Not even a little, Cherry.”
About the Author:
Trilina is an author, wife, and mama to three rowdy kiddos. When she isn’t making grilled cheese sandwiches, she can be found writing saucy novels that titillate and excite her readers.
Pucci’s journey started impulsively. She wanted to check off a box on her bucket list. But what began as fulfillment has become incredibly fulfilling. And now she can’t see her life without her characters, her readers and this community.
She currently resides in Northern California with her Italian stallion and her feral children, where the days are slow and easy and wine pours are heavy. (just kidding…maybe)