Page 13 of Filthy Little Pretties

“Hey,” Liam’s voice calls over my shoulder.

We clasp hands, bumping shoulders hello.

“Dean’s got you doing upkeep, huh? He needed a pretty face?” he jokes, poking at my cheek as I smack his hand, making him laugh.

I stare at the car, and Liam’s eyes follow my gaze.

“Don’t be jealous. I can’t help that I’m superior to you in every way. But now we get to demolish Red Oak. You’re welcome, dick.” Turning my head and raising my eyebrows, I’m waiting for the justifiable gratitude.

“No shit, boss. But we could’ve done it, anyway, go off-campus. Fuck the dean,” he counters, leaning against the opposite rail, looking arrogantly at me.

“Now we don’t have to. Instead of winning in secret, everyone gets to watch them lose.”

He might be my best friend, but he’s impulsive and a pain in the ass sometimes—just like a real brother would be. But that’s what we are, brothers, even if we’re opposites.

The sound of the gravel calls our attention before he can respond. We stand watching as the car slows to a stop, silent for a moment, before Liam pushes off the railing. The sound of the first-period bell rings as he speaks. “Have fun. Don’t be too much of a dick. You’re a role model, after all.”

He slaps my hand again before pushing the doors open, letting the voices drift out momentarily.

“No promises,” I answer to myself, as the black town car idles a moment before turning off.

I stand, crossing my arms, watching as a driver comes around and opens the door. I’m beginning to lose my patience with the dean and this favor when a long, tan, slim leg slinks out, followed by its match. Hell yes.

My eyes drag the length of them, hoping the rest of the package is as delectable. Either Darren has a set of legs on him that could turn me, or those luscious stems belong to the girl I’m about to make my new school project.

Praise the rich and their sexually ambiguous names.

Darren pushes out of the car, sweeping her long honey locks over her shoulder, an armful of bracelets catching the sun’s reflection.

Fuck me.

All the air leaves my body. She turns a blinding bright smile on Dean Pritchett’s surprised face, and my knees almost buckle.

This can’t be real. No way. Donovan Kennedy is standing twenty feet from me. I feel like I can’t catch my breath. Her memory packs that much of a punch. I honestly can’t recall a day when I haven’t thought about this girl. And now she’s here in front of me.

Holy shit.

The last time I saw Donovan, we were twelve, saying our sad goodbyes in my bedroom. God, the girl was a dream. She loved me fiercely, held my hand everywhere, and let me chase her. Everything a twelve-year-old boy prayed to God for.

Thinking back, I realize that my utter devotion to her wasmostlyfueled by puberty, but at the time, I thought she was the coolest person I’d ever known and my good luck charm. Fuck, Donovan’s like the last known location of my innocence. When I believed in shit like Santa and that my future would be in my hands one day.

The thought makes me laugh. Five years change a lot.

I’m not as innocent anymore, and judging by how hot she’s turned out, there’s no way she is either. It may be unfair to judge her virtue by her appearance, but the girl grew into a proper fucking bombshell. Her kind of looks opens the gates of hell. It’s a good thing she moved away, or I have a feeling Liam and I would’ve viciously fought over her.

She smooths her skirt, and every part of me is paying attention, exceptmy brainhas one hundred percent stopped thinking.

Her head tilts back, exposing her long neck, as she laughs haughtily over the dean’s surprise that she isn’t a “Darren.”We’re all surprised, Donovan.

The act of just thinking her name makes a smirk grow on my face. Damn memories. My hand lowers from my forehead, just as her throaty, raspy laugh fills the sky again like a symphony. One that makes my dick jump, and I swear I almost take the steps two at a time so that I can shove her back in the car and fuck her senseless.

I look down at my crotch and whisper, “Down, boy,” before perusing her goods again. I’m so fixated on my next meal that I don’t pay any attention to the dean calling my name, but I know it happens because her eyes become full, and her head swings quickly in my direction.

Hi, Donovan. Long time, no see.

The minute our eyes lock, a thousand memories flood my body, and I see all of them play across her face too. The smile that unfolds on her face isn’t just genuine; it’s contagious.

“Mr. McCallister.” Dean Pritchett motions again, calling me down the stairs. “Please join us.”