Filthy Little Pretties - Trilina Pucci Page 0,24

sixty-six inches because he’ll stalk, pounce, and prey on me.

The arrogance his grin is soaked in halts my thoughts, and I lick my lips before quietly hitting him with the last one.

“Be warned, Grey McCallister. A girl like me is bad for a boy like you.” I have baggage too big to fit into anyone’s mansion.

“That sounds like a challenge, Cherry.”

Before I can dissuade him, Liam’s fingers find my side and tickle me, making me jump and squirm away, effectively breaking the trance.

“Quit.” I giggle, shoving at him, but Liam slaps his large hands on the table, standing and turning his chair back around to sit normally.

“All right. Get serious, Van. Stop throwing yourself at us. It’s embarrassing. Now catch us up.”

I widen my eyes dramatically and lean my head over to Grey’s broad shoulder. “He thinks I’m throwing myself at you guys…that I’m a whore.”

“I wish that were true.”

“That he thinks I’m a whore?”

“That you are a whore,” he smirks and kisses my forehead. “But I do agree with one part—catch us up. Stop avoiding questions.”

I sit up and look back and forth between them. Fuck. Where to start? I need to ease them into my dysfunction. We’ve only been back together for half a day, but if they rightfully go running, I’ll feel the loss.

Both sets of beautiful, curious eyes stare back at me, and for the first time, I feel shameful. I’ve felt regretful, apologetic, even embarrassed, but this is the first time I want to hide from the girl I’d become.

My mouth hesitantly opens to speak, but it’s not my voice that comes out.

“Oh my God.” A waifish brunette glares down at me. “It’s true. As if I don’t have enough to deal with, with these peasants, Donovan Kennedy is back.”

When she says peasants, she motions to some girls to her left. Sadly, they seem used to their label. Standing next to her is the caramel-hued boy from earlier today. Unlike her, he’s smiling at me before turning his attention back to her.

“My nemesis is back. It’s so cliché that I could jump off a bridge.”

I look behind me, wondering who the hell she’s speaking to, because it can’t be me. I don’t even know her.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

She smooths her hair as if she can barely stand to hear me speak. “Oh, we’re doing that.”

“Fuck,” Grey breathes out as Liam laughs, entirely too amused.

Her plus-one smiles as he pulls out his chair but not before tending to hers.

“I’m Kai.”

“Hi again,” I answer, when realization dawns somewhere in the roll of her eyes and the practiced bored expression she carries. The last time I saw Caroline Whitmore, she was very blonde, much heavier, and an incredible twat. Guess she only changed the outside.

“Caroline. Wow. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t recogn—”

“Yeah,” she breathes and shoos away her entourage, lowering down into a chair. “Let’s get this part out of the way. I look different. And you’re the same. I want to say it’s brave that you kept the same cut of your bangs since sixth grade, but I don’t believe in lying.”

“Jesus,” I laugh, sitting back in my chair.

“Tell me, are you fucking one or both of them?”

Is this girl serious? “Excuse m—”

“Carebear,” Kai smirks. “Claws in. She’s royalty. Right, Grey?”

Grey gives him a small laugh, staring at me as if he’s waiting to see how I’m going to handle myself. Keeping his eyes on me, he answers Kai. “Stop fueling the fire. Unless you’re hoping for a catfight?”

I narrow my eyes at him as Liam leans onto his elbow, shifting his eyes between Caroline and me. “Maybe they’ll rip each other’s tops off? Wait, let’s get Jell-O.”

“Pig,” I hurl before smacking his shoulder. “Watch yourself, Brooks.”

“Damn, Van. Easy. Although I do like it rough.”

I pretend I’m going to hit him again, and we both laugh as he says, “Sorry. Jokes, I got jokes.”

A loud clang of silverware against a plate raises my eyes back to Caroline as she sneers, pushing her tray out of the way. “For this to be a match, the opponents have to be declared equal. Donovan’s out of her league.”

“So, this is a fight?” I question, already knowing the answer.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

My eyes narrow with my thoughts. And for there to be a fight, we’d need a prize. What’s your trophy, ice princess? Her eyes discreetly shift between Grey and Liam. Oh, I see. You want my seat. In your fucking dreams.

“I see. So long

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