Page 37 of Make Me Pretty
“How much longer are you stuck with him? It’s gotta be strange, living with him. With the things he does…” Grady trails off as he shoots a three-pointer. It bounces off the rim, making all of us chuckle while he glares at the hoop like it personally offended him.
I roll my eyes at his blatant inquiry. Like I’d ever fucking tellthema thing about Abel—but only because it simply doesn’t matter what he does at home. Which is absolutely nothing because whenever we’re under the same roof, it’s like no one but me exists to him, and helivesto push my every button.
Like donning those short-ass pink shorts and chomping on various green candies—with Skittles being the exception. T.V. turned on to none other thanSpongeBob SquarePants,his Discman from the early 2000s never far away.
I crack my neck loudly.
I’m at my breaking point.
“Couple more months. February,” I say absentmindedly. It’s all I’ve thought about. Exactly how much longer I’m forced to look at his face, feel himeverywhere.Like a disease corroding me into nothing.
Thomas pipes up, “So, this is why you’ve been so off your game. You’ve gotta deal with him at home? Is he a nuisance or something?” I almost laugh out loud. I wish it were as simple as him being a ‘nuisance’.
But no. I just saw something I shouldn’t have. Something I hate myself for admitting I like, want,need.And not at all because he makes my fucking dick hard every time I look at him.
“Don’t worry, Peris. Once he’s out of your house, he’ll just be another lost cause sucking dick for rent money!” Corbin yellsobnoxiously loud, interrupting Thomas. The sound of his taunt bounces off the vast, white brick walls of the gym.
I whirl around with a snap of my molars to pin him with a glare. My veins surge with overheated blood, making my hands tremble at my sides. “Thefuck?—”
The sound of shoes squeaking across the glossy hardwood floor has my neck snapping back, words dying on my lips as Abel makes his way toward us, his pointy jaw set wide, beady eyes narrowed, the silver of his irises flashing many shades darker.
He looks pissed—and seeing that reaction from him when all I ever see is a wash of smug confidence…fuck.
My eyes rake over him, observing with hidden glee at how assured he portrays himself for being so diminutive, walking right up to the five of us like he doesn’t give a fuck. Abel’s gaze rakes over everyone individually in a sharp scrape, his expression passive and indifferent.
He skips right over me in his perusal. My hands fist at my sides.
“Well…” he drawls, tone pitched low and soft, eyes pinned on Corbin with intent, “whatever your name is, I’ll be sure to give you a discount when you can no longer resist the temptation and make your way down my alley.” He blows Corbin a kiss as his eyes slide to mine, flashing.
I feel it in my fucking balls. In a heavy, deep throb.
That little fucking runt.
His eyes pinch slightly at the corners, big lips twisting to the side before it all falls away. Then, he walks right past with his head held high, bag slung over one shoulder, shoes squeaking loudly like he’s twisting them against the floor on purpose so I’ll succumb to the urge to walk right up to him and snatch him up by the hair at his nape, growl in his ear, telling him to shut the fuck up while kissing his anger away.
His lithe form disappears through the double doors at the other end of the gymnasium, and my gears shift back to what’s right in front of me like I’m sucked out right out of a tunnel—or tunnelvision.
“Daaaamn,” Gabe drawls, whooping. “Little dude’s got a mouth on him.” He sounds amused—impressed even. Of course, Gabe would be.
But I’m fucking not.I’m not.The way his lips screwed up, steel-colored eyes drilling into me with obvious intent. Always such a fucking tease.
These guys don’t know him like I do. Everything he said—while aimed at Corbin—was meant for me. A visceral truth we’re forever pussyfooting around.
Corbin’s usual ruddy cheeks are now scarlet as he fumbles with the ball between his hands. I step up to him and smack it away. Its bounces and echoes barely register. His brow arcs in confusion.
“Don’t fuckin’ say shit about him again.” My voice is low, tight, and menacing. Each word is spit between clenched teeth.
He stares at me with wide eyes, lips falling open into an “O” shape. My molars grind. Nails bite into my palms, gut hot and churning just thinking about Corbin’s dick in Abel’s mouth.
Fuck, I want to rip my hair out. Peel my skin straight from the muscle so I canbreathewithout the constriction.
A hand clasps my shoulder, yanking me back. I fumble, finding my footing, and Gabe laughs gleefully. “Alrighty. Let’s just go home. Eat andsleep,” he enunciates the word pointedly. I can feel all their eyes on me,observing me,making my skin crawl like maggots burrowed beneath.
A maggot did.
“Fuck off,” I snap, shaking Gabe’s hand off. He holds them up in front of his face, brows high, but his lips are quirked likehe knows something he shouldn’t. But he does because I fucking talked, and he knows me, and now?—
I stomp away to grab my duffle and shove my way through the double doors, heading for the locker room. I usually always go home since I live close enough, but tonight, I need time. To clear my head. To be away fromeveryone,but Abel and those lips, especially.So big and glistening with spit as he spews his venom.
