Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) (39 page)

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.” His voice snapped me back to the sidewalk.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention? I met her at chemo… bucket list. I’m dying, dude.”

I simply looked at him, unable to respond.

“Stage four brain cancer.” He said it like it was an accomplishment.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Makes me less of an asshole in your eyes now, right?”

“No, you’re still pretty much an asshole.”

“I like you despite your Captain Caveman mentality.”

I shook my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Captain Caveman, it’s a classic cartoon.”

Narrowing my eyes, I gave him a puzzled look.

“It was featured on Scooby’s All-Star Laff-A-Lympics. Don’t tell me you don’t know who Scooby Doo is.”

“I know who the fuck Scooby Doo is.”

“Then you’re not a lost cause.”

This encounter had taken an odd turn, from me wanting to beat the shit out of him to us discussing some lame-ass old cartoon.

“Are we done with this pissing contest?” He stuck his hand out toward me.

Slapping my palm in his, we shook hands. “I think so.”

Dalton turned and took a few steps down the street before spinning back around.

“She’s a special girl who deserves to be cherished.”

“I know and I do,” I told him.

He started back down the street.

“Hey, Dalton.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he replied, “Yep?”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Too late for that, dude.”

He gave me one last smug smirk and then disappeared around the corner.

It had been a week since I’d seen Tweet at the diner. Even though both she and Dalton denied having more than a friendship, a deeper connection existed between them. I wanted to be the one person who knew her the best and understood everything she was experiencing, but I couldn’t be, not this time, so I backed off. Tweet’s happiness was the most important thing in my life. If that meant stepping aside for now and letting Dalton be there for her, then that’s what I had to do. I threw myself into school as much as possible, trudging through my day like a lost zombie.

I was living at home with Mom again. Carter had asked me to stay on at the condo after the New Year, and I did for a few weeks. After deciding to give Tweet some space, being only minutes down the street from her was too tempting. Mom and I were on different schedules, so it still felt like I was on my own. She was doing great, keeping busy with work and friends. My aunts decided to surprise her this weekend with a trip to New York, so I had the whole house to myself for a few days.

I was walking in the back door after a marathon study session at the library when my phone vibrated in my pocket with a text. I had put it on silent while at the library.

Brooke:
Where are you?

Me:
Just got home.

Brooke:
There’s something special waiting in your room.

As I dumped my backpack on the table I glanced up at the window over the sink. Memories of Tweet flailing her arms and dancing in her own window flooded my mind and made me smile, causing the ache in my chest to intensify. I missed her so much.

Pulling myself away from the window, I walked down the hall to my bedroom. I opened the door to find the
something special
lying across my bed on her stomach, blonde curls piled high on top of her head, and wearing absolutely nothing.

“Hey baby,” Brooke said, cocking her head to one side.

“What are you doing? How did you get in here?”

“I wanted to surprise you. I used the spare key under the mat. Surprise!”

“This isn’t a good idea.”

I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, grabbed the blanket that was draped over the chair next to it, and threw it on top of Brooke.

She sat up, wrapping the blanket around her body. “Your mom is gone for the entire weekend.”

“I gotta be honest, being in my childhood bedroom and you mentioning my mom is not a turn on.”

Giggling, she slid off the bed and walked toward me.

“I know things have been a little off between us and you seem to be having a rough week. Give me a chance to make you feel good. Give us a chance, Noah.”

Brooke held my gaze as she slowly unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it over my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers slipped into the top of my jeans. Walking backward, she tugged me toward the bed. Before sitting down, she let the blanket untwist from her body. It hit the floor at the exact same time my phone lit up with a text.

Tweet:
Hey, I’m at your back door.

My gaze flashed from the text to a naked Brooke, back to the text, back to naked Brooke. My heart thudded against my chest as beads of sweat popped everywhere sweat could pop. I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard three knocks at the back door.

I picked up the blanket and covered Brooke. “Stay here. I need to see who’s at the door.”

I rushed out of the room, not waiting for her response.

I ran down the hall to the back door and flung it open. Tweet really was at my back door. I didn’t imagine the text or the knocks. We stared at each other. She looked beautiful as always, but nervous. My stomach sank. What if she was here to tell me she and Dalton were now together? I stood silent, letting her make the first move.

She inhaled a deep breath before her words came out in rapid-fire succession. “I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment we met. I love you deeper every time I see you. I know the timing is awful, but there’s never a perfect time. So, no matter what happens, I needed you to know how I feel.”

I had dreamed about the moment when she would finally say those words, my response and how we’d end up celebrating, a million times in the past. The moment was here and nothing came out of my mouth. I was dumbstruck.

It felt like we stood staring at each other for hours before I finally said, “Tweet, I…”

No sooner had the words left my mouth when the sound of an irate Brooke screaming my name and stomping in our direction filled the air. She was wrapped in only the blanket. Then it dawned on me that I was standing in the doorway shirtless.

“Oh my god! I thought you were alone. I only saw your car out front.” Tweet turned to leave, but I grabbed her before she could get away.

“Tweet, don’t go. Just give me some time. Brooke, let’s go in the other room.”

“You read her text while you were fucking me!” Brooke screamed.

“My phone was on the bedside table. I just glanced over at it.”

“You almost broke your fucking neck jumping off of me to get to the door.”

Tweet broke free of my grip, walked as quickly as she could to her car, and sped off down the street.

Closing the door, I leaned back against it, rubbing my hands up my face and into my hair. Brooke stood in front of me, fuming.

“I’ve put almost an entire year into you,” she said, clenching her jaw.

“Why did you lie to her about what we were doing?”

“Because she needs to realize you don’t belong to her.”

“But I do.”

“I was the perfect girlfriend—fun, smart, sexy. I pretended to like the stupid music you listen to and baseball. And you could have done anything you wanted to this.” She ran her hand down the length of her body. “We look incredible together. Do you have any idea how good I would be for your career? I look like a fucking surgeon’s wife!” she yelled and stomped her foot like a two-year-old brat.

“Let’s finally be honest, Brooke. From the second you knew I was headed to medical school you had your hooks firmly planted in me. That’s what was important to you, the status, not me.”

“Like you didn’t have ulterior motives being with me. Don’t act so high and mighty, Noah. Why were you with me? Oh, I remember now. You were trying to get over your fucking Tweet who didn’t want you.”

I stood in silence, letting her get all her emotions out.

She paced back and forth, talking more to herself than me. “No matter what, that fucking girl was always in my way. Even when she wasn’t physically around she was in your head. Every time she walked in a room your eyes got all googly for her.” Stopping abruptly she faced me. “Why didn’t you look at me that way?! After all I’ve done for you—the goddamn cookies I’ve made for you and I don’t even like to bake, the times I gave you the green light to fuck me, and I even got rid of that manipulative bitch for you so you could move on with me!”

“What?”

Tightening the blanket around her body, she walked toward me. “The little girl chat we had at your dad’s funeral… I told her to leave you alone. That you deserved better than her. You deserved me.”

Pushing off the door, I stepped in her direction. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I was your future.”

“You were never my future, Brooke.”

“Yes I was! You should have loved me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not her.”

“Well… fuck you, Noah.”

Straightening her shoulders, she spun and took a few steps away then turned back to me. “For the record, I’m breaking up with you. And don’t come running back to me when your precious Tweet is dead.”

My jaw clenched as I took a step toward her. “I’m trying to hold it together and not let my anger show because I know all this has hurt you. But do you really want to go out this way, as a cold heartless bitch? Don’t blame Tweet for taking something that was never yours. You have three minutes to get dressed and get the fuck out of my life.”

Her bottom lip trembled as tears filled her eyes. I had no interest in wasting any more time and energy on Brooke. I needed to go find my girl and start our life together.

“Goodbye Brooke.”

I hovered outside the door of my bedroom, poking my head in every few seconds to see if Brooke was dressed. I wanted her to hurry up and leave. It felt like hours had passed since Tweet showed up on my doorstep. I’d been calling and texting her almost nonstop with no answer. I was nervous, excited, and antsy to get to her. Brooke knew it and was dragging this out, wanting me to suffer. The thought crossed my mind to go after Tweet and deal with the Brooke aftermath later. Since Brooke demonstrated some crazy bitch tendencies earlier and had the potential to trash the place, I decided to tie up things with her first. I just didn’t realize the level of spite she’d had toward me.

Finally, Brooke appeared in the doorway, fully dressed, and holding her purse. With my palm facing up, I extended my hand. Her gaze fell and her lips formed into a sly smirk.

Sliding her palm on top of mine, she said, “I knew all you needed was a little time and you’d come to your senses.”

Dropping my hand, I looked her directly in the eye. “All I need is the spare key you used to get in here.”

Reaching into the front pocket of her jeans, she pulled out the key and threw it at me. Turning on her heels, she stomped down the hall and out of my life.

I quickly changed into a pair of jeans that didn’t reek of Brooke’s perfume and grabbed my gray T-shirt that was a favorite of Tweet’s. Passing through the kitchen, the chocolate cake on the counter caught my eye. Thank god my mom had a sweet tooth and a weakness for cake. I cut a huge piece, dropped it on a plate, and wrapped it to go. My mouth watered with just the thought of Tweet, chocolate cake… chocolate Tweet.

I started the search for my girl at Emily’s condo. On the way over every pulse point in my body throbbed. The place was only fifteen minutes away, but I caught every traffic light, making the trip feel like another lifetime. When I pulled into the driveway, all the lights were off inside the condo, but Tweet’s car was parked out front. I bolted from my truck, sprinting to the front door. Balling up one hand, I continuously pounded on the door, while alternating between calling and texting Tweet with the other hand.

The windows lit up as I heard noise coming from inside. Propping one shoulder against the door frame, I made my expression neutral and hid the plate of cake behind my back.