Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) (28 page)

“We’re not kids anymore. I’m getting ready to go off to school…”

“Don’t do this. I won’t touch you again. I swear, not even a hug. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you too,” I pleaded, moving in closer to her.

The inside of my mouth turned into a desert. Swallowing several times, I tried to get an ounce of moisture to appear. My tongue kept sticking to the roof of my mouth and my throat began closed. With each pump of my chest my lungs felt like they were filling with cement. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. A prickling pain covered my skin, like a thousand pins jabbing me all at once. I was familiar with the sensation. Its level-one devastation, a pure physiological reaction, before your mind has had a chance to process what’s about to happen. I felt it a week ago when I thought Tweet was in the ER and again when I saw my dad on the stretcher. A sob pushed against my chest, the pressure intensifying the longer I stared at the determination in her eyes.

“I love you,” I finally blurted out.

I was a walking contradiction, touching her whenever possible, then telling her I wouldn’t, before blurting out my feelings. I grasped at anything that had a chance at stopping her from what she was about to do.

“Well, you shouldn’t. I’ve told you over and over that I can’t be with you, but you keep pushing. The truth is, I
don’t
want to be with you, Noah.”

Every muscle in my body tensed as I glared at her. “So this is my fault? You always said the reason we couldn’t be a couple was because
you’d
do something to mess it up and we’d lose our friendship. Now you’re blaming me for being too
attached
, too
clingy
?”

“No one is to blame,” she squeaked out.

“Oh yeah? I blame you,” I snapped.

Heat shot through my body as memories bounced from one corner of my mind to the other. All the times I showed her how I felt, told her how I felt, was patient with her, and tried to understand her screwed-up way of thinking. None of that ever sunk into her thick bullheaded skull.

“You don’t give a shit about me or my happiness. All you care about is
you.
You want to dictate and control
us
in order to protect yourself.”

Tweet took a step back and turned her head away.

I grabbed her chin between my thumb and index finger, forcing her gaze up to meet mine. “Don’t you dare look away from me. You’re not going to run this time.” She froze and remained silent. “I’ve tried to stay away from you, to not touch you, and I’ve tried so fucking hard not to fall in love with you.”

I moved in closer until our chests rubbed together with each heavy breath we took.

Dropping my face, so that our lips were almost touching, I gritted my teeth and said, “I know you want me in every way. I could tell that night in your room how wet you were through your pajamas. You were so ready for me to slide into you. All I did was kiss your stomach and you almost came right in my arms… didn’t you?”

Deafening silence.

“Didn’t you?!” I yelled, causing her body to jerk.

She inhaled a ragged breath and simply nodded.

Stepping back, I shook my head and chuckled humorlessly. “You always said I deserved better than you. Maybe you really thought it was you who deserved better than me. You always have to have everything so fucking perfect. Nothing is ever good enough. I’m not good enough.”

“That’s not true!
You
are perfect. I’m the loser. You deserve perfect.”

“And you think Brooke is perfect for me?”

“I don’t know. I just know that I’m not.”

“Shut the fuck up! I’m tired of hearing you say that. All these years I hated how you looked at yourself. I know you think everyone is constantly comparing you to
perfect
Emily.” I looked at Tweet through blurry eyes as I choked back a sob. “I never have and I never wanted to. I put up with you pushing me away, convincing myself that all you needed was some time. If I kept telling you how incredible you were and how much I loved you, one day you’d believe it, and stop all this bullshit. You’re not a loser, Tweet. You’re a coward, because you’re throwing away the chance to be with the person who wants to spend the rest of his life loving you and telling you how perfect you really are.”

“Please don’t hate me. Once you calm down and have a chance to think clearly you’ll see this is for the best right now.” Her voice quivered, the words barely making it out.

I stood looking down at the ground in silence. My body was rigid, my hands rested on my hips, fingers clawing into my skin. I blew out heavy breaths as I held on to the tension in my body. If I let it go, I’d collapse. I couldn’t believe she was doing this.

You fucking promised you wouldn’t leave me.

The first tear splashed to the ground. Tremor after tremor coursed through my body. A second tear fell from my eye. I was not going to crumble in front of this girl. A third tear dripped, followed by a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, a seventh… until a steady stream gushed out of me.

Lifting my head slightly, I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was still standing in the same spot. For the first time in my life, I wanted and needed to put some distance between me and my
best friend
. She had lost the privilege of seeing her effect on me.

“Get the fuck away from me.” My voice was low and controlled.

“Noah…”

My head shot up, light blue eyes pierced teal ones. Her face was coated in tears, her body shaking uncontrollably. I felt the life drain from my face. She gasped, cupping her hand over her mouth.

In a slow, clear, and determined cadence, I ordered, “Get. The fuck. Away. From me. Now.”

She hesitated for a moment before stepping away. I stared straight ahead as she brushed past me. The crunch of the gravel diminished as the love of my life disappeared across the park and into the darkness. With each step she took, my heart slammed harder against my chest until it completely shattered.

My gaze moved toward the table,
our table.
The blood that had drained from my body was replaced by pure adrenaline. All my systems went into overdrive—my breathing, my pulse, my temperature—all shot up to an explosive level.

I kicked at the table a few times before ramming my fist into it. The more I brutalized the piece of wood, the more my anger was fueled. Growls and grunts flew out of me along with incoherent and incomplete sentences.

“Mother fucking… selfish… bit…!”

I stumbled back. Drawing in several deep breaths, I tried to get some control of myself. There had to be another reason why Tweet did this to me now. I attempted to piece together some logical thoughts, but nothing made sense. I was fed up with trying to figure out her actions. What kind of a person abandons her best friend at the lowest point in his life?

Looking back at the table another wave of rage flooded my body. I stepped forward and grabbed the edges. Inhaling a huge breath, I flipped the table over.

“Goddamn her!”

I pounded one of the wooden legs with my foot until it finally broke off. Grabbing it, I used the last of my energy to throw it full throttle in the direction of the pond. Exhaustion took over, my knees buckled and gave way, causing me to collapse to the ground. Tears and sweat soaked my clothes and hair.

Robotically, I walked back to my house. I rounded the corner of the family room, heading to my room when my mom’s voice broke through my haze.

“My god, Noah. What have you been up to?”

“I went for a run,” I answered flatly.

“
Blah, blah, blah
,” she said as I continued my nonstop trek toward the bathroom.

I can’t be there for Mom right now. Please don’t be disappointed in me too much, Dad.

I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower. Hot water poured down my back as the room filled with steam. Placing my palms flat against the tile wall, I dropped my head down, letting it hang between my arms. I was numb from the inside out. As I focused on nothing, wanting my mind to stay blank, the pain slowly sliced through the numbness. Once the first cut was made, it took only seconds for it to rip me apart. I felt lightheaded. My legs shook, barely able to hold my weight. My stomach, followed by my heart, plummeted, as my body seized out of control. The bottom dropped out and the pain overpowered me.

I squinted my eyes, staring at the door in confusion. I couldn’t remember driving over here. I tossed and turned in my bed for an hour after I had gotten out of the shower. I was physically drained, but my brain wouldn’t shut off. Thoughts of
her
flashed through my head—the shy smile, the teal eyes, the soft curves, the laughs and dreams shared. Just when I allowed myself to enjoy how the memories felt, the picture of her walking away from me shot through my consciousness, the pain invading every corner of my body. Finally, I bolted out of bed, threw on a black T-shirt and gray cargo shorts, slipped on my black Nikes, and then jumped in my truck.

Raising my hand, I knocked on the front door. A light shined from behind the etched glass inset of the dark wood. The door swung open. Her eyes lit up and a smile broke out across her pale pink lips. She was dressed for bed in a white tank top and red shorts covered with white polka dots. Her hair fell down over her shoulders. She looked like an angel, with the light bouncing off the soft blond curls.

“Are you alone?” My voice was scratchy and hoarse.

“Yeah. Dad is on a business trip and Mom went with him.”

Brooke stepped back, opening the door wider for me to walk through.

I stood in the entryway as the door clicked shut behind me.

Brooke’s hand landed on the back of my shoulder. As she circled around to stand in front of me, she let her hand slide down my arm and meet up with mine.

Looking up through long blond lashes, she asked, “Are you okay?” My gaze dropped to hers. A slight chuckle drifted from her as she rolled her eyes. “God that was a stupid question. Your dad just died.” Another chuckle paired with a smile appeared.

“Let’s go to your room,” I mumbled.

“What?”

I jerked my hand away, cupped the sides of her face, shut my eyes, and crashed my lips into hers. Brooke clung to my biceps as I backed her up toward the bedroom. Stopping abruptly, her fingers curled around my wrists, pulling my hands away from her face.

“What’s gotten into you, Noah?” She gasped for air.

“Isn’t this what you’ve been wanting?”

“Yes, but why now? Did something happen to change your mind?”

“No. I just wanted to kick the summer off with a bang.” I smirked at my lame joke.

Without another word, Brooke took my hand and led me into her bedroom.

I hadn’t been in Brooke’s room before. I’m not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t the pink nightmare I had just walked into. At first I thought she had made a mistake and taken me into her younger sister’s room, but then I remembered Brooke didn’t have a younger sister.

The walls were covered in Pepto-Bismol pink that made me queasy. The bookshelf was pale pink and lined with a few books, some framed pictures of Brooke throughout the years, and a collection of stuffed animals. Bears, cats, lambs, unicorns, horses, all stared at me. In one corner sat a white desk and chair with a bright pink lamp and more stuffed animals, only these were miniature. The blanket covering the bed looked like a pink Muppet had been killed and skinned for Brooke’s warmth and comfort. To top off the pink nightmare, hanging over the bed was a chandelier decorated with white pearls and crystal beads. Four small lamps with pink shades surrounded the fixture. The bottom edges of the shades were wrapped in pink fluffy feathery material. No doubt another Muppet sacrificing its life for Brooke’s decorative desires.

A sexy smile crossed her face as she walked back toward her bed. I concentrated on the movement of her body, working hard to ignore the Muppet carnage that surrounded me. Brooke’s fingers hooked under the hem of her tank top. I mimicked her by grabbing the bottom of my own shirt. We stared for several seconds, challenging each other to be the first to strip. My hesitation was confusing. I needed to move on with Brooke. There was no reason not to. She cared about me. She loved me. She looked good on paper.

Finally, I hiked my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. Brooke lifted her shirt, torturing me with a slow striptease. Her tits bounced slightly as they were released from the shirt. Brooke’s body
was
hot. She was tall and thin, not curvy like…

You’re about to fuck your girlfriend. Do not think or compare her to
“the other one.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, No-No?”

What was I waiting for?

To feel something.

Once I touched her I was sure I’d start responding to the hot half-naked blonde looking at me with big blue eyes full of lust. I walked over to her, grabbed her hips, pulling her into me. Her hands shot to the back of my head. Tangling her fingers through my hair, she tugged, bringing my lips down to hers. My eyes closed as I slid my tongue between Brooke’s soft lips. The deeper she allowed me inside her mouth, the more my fingers dug into her hips. My dick finally woke up as I pressed it against her. Several moans rumbled out of her, each one louder than the last.