Read Online Perfectly Flawed by Emily Jane Trent - Free Book Online
Authors: Emily Jane Trent
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tapped her knee to the bass periodically, drawing attention to her long legs peeking out from under her short skirt. There was no need; Sean couldn’t take his eyes off her anyway. But he tried to focus on the slippery roads, allowing his peripheral vision include Adrianna.
All the way, Sean ran ideas around in his head. He couldn’t just let her get out, say goodbye, and drive off. Then they’d see each other again on Monday and nothing would be any different. He hoped by Monday they’d know each other a lot better.
He pulled in front of her aunt’s home—a mansion from his perspective—but didn’t immediately get out.
“This is it,” Adrianna said, and reached for the door handle.
“Wait.”
She stopped and looked at him. Her perfume filled the car, and Sean knew he’d smell it all the way back to his apartment and longer. Maybe he’d never wash the darn thing again, just to keep the fragrance in there.
“What?”
“Can I see you again?”
“You’ll see me Monday.”
“You know what I mean. Like a date. I’d like to see you again, Adrianna.”
She slumped back from the door and looked at the windshield, wet from the drifting snow.
“I don’t think so,” she said without looking at him.
Feeling desperation begin to surface, Sean said, “Why not? Are you with someone?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean? How can you ‘not exactly’ be with someone? Either you are or you aren’t.”
“I have been dating someone.”
“Is it serious?”
Adrianna paused and looked into his eyes. Sean thought his heart would stop.
“It’s confusing.”
Sean reached out and touched her jaw with his fingertips. She felt so soft. “You’re confusing.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Anyway…it’s just not a good idea. Thanks for the ride, though.” And she hopped out and jogged up to her front door and disappeared inside.
Sean sat in the car until so much snow had fallen he couldn’t see out the windows. Then he revved up the engine and peeled out. Damn. There had to be a way to win her over. He was just going about it wrong, that was all. He’d have to rethink this. Women. They were so hard to understand sometimes.
Chapter 8
The black leather sofa made a rubbing sound when Nic dropped into the corner of it, putting his arms over the back and lifting one leg to rest his ankle on his opposite thigh.
“Comfortable?” Sean smirked.
“Yeah this sofa isn’t bad, for leather anyway. I prefer those overstuffed fabric deals.”
“Well, I’ll let my interior designer know.”
“So, isn’t Tomas coming by?”
At that moment the bell rang.
“Get it, will you? I’ll check out the booze situation.”
“Oh, man. I just sat down.” Nic rose and sauntered to the door, in no particular rush. His dark hair was buzzed all over, about an inch long on top, which looked tough-boy cool. Nic thought it made him look older, an advantage with the women, and Sean had to agree. At nineteen, it didn’t hurt to look more mature; the women liked that.
Of course, Sean didn’t have any issue there. Probably his height and muscular build carried him past the late-teens look, making him look at least twenty. He kept his brown hair cropped short too, though not buzzed; he just liked it that way, for no particular reason.
“Hey, man.” Tomas walked into the kitchen, the rubber soles of his brown suede shoes squeaking on the tile floor. He patted his palm on the blond wood cupboards several times like he was keeping time to a tune playing in his head. “What’s up?”
Tomas wore a white T-shirt and jeans, swinging a leather jacket by one finger. His shaggy brown hair fell partly over his face, shading his green eyes. The girls liked Tomas; maybe it was that Irish look. He had more of an accent than the other two since his parents spoke Irish a lot at home; he tended to sound like his dad.
“It’s Saturday night. What do you want to do?” Sean asked, rummaging through the fridge for something
All the way, Sean ran ideas around in his head. He couldn’t just let her get out, say goodbye, and drive off. Then they’d see each other again on Monday and nothing would be any different. He hoped by Monday they’d know each other a lot better.
He pulled in front of her aunt’s home—a mansion from his perspective—but didn’t immediately get out.
“This is it,” Adrianna said, and reached for the door handle.
“Wait.”
She stopped and looked at him. Her perfume filled the car, and Sean knew he’d smell it all the way back to his apartment and longer. Maybe he’d never wash the darn thing again, just to keep the fragrance in there.
“What?”
“Can I see you again?”
“You’ll see me Monday.”
“You know what I mean. Like a date. I’d like to see you again, Adrianna.”
She slumped back from the door and looked at the windshield, wet from the drifting snow.
“I don’t think so,” she said without looking at him.
Feeling desperation begin to surface, Sean said, “Why not? Are you with someone?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean? How can you ‘not exactly’ be with someone? Either you are or you aren’t.”
“I have been dating someone.”
“Is it serious?”
Adrianna paused and looked into his eyes. Sean thought his heart would stop.
“It’s confusing.”
Sean reached out and touched her jaw with his fingertips. She felt so soft. “You’re confusing.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Anyway…it’s just not a good idea. Thanks for the ride, though.” And she hopped out and jogged up to her front door and disappeared inside.
Sean sat in the car until so much snow had fallen he couldn’t see out the windows. Then he revved up the engine and peeled out. Damn. There had to be a way to win her over. He was just going about it wrong, that was all. He’d have to rethink this. Women. They were so hard to understand sometimes.
Chapter 8
The black leather sofa made a rubbing sound when Nic dropped into the corner of it, putting his arms over the back and lifting one leg to rest his ankle on his opposite thigh.
“Comfortable?” Sean smirked.
“Yeah this sofa isn’t bad, for leather anyway. I prefer those overstuffed fabric deals.”
“Well, I’ll let my interior designer know.”
“So, isn’t Tomas coming by?”
At that moment the bell rang.
“Get it, will you? I’ll check out the booze situation.”
“Oh, man. I just sat down.” Nic rose and sauntered to the door, in no particular rush. His dark hair was buzzed all over, about an inch long on top, which looked tough-boy cool. Nic thought it made him look older, an advantage with the women, and Sean had to agree. At nineteen, it didn’t hurt to look more mature; the women liked that.
Of course, Sean didn’t have any issue there. Probably his height and muscular build carried him past the late-teens look, making him look at least twenty. He kept his brown hair cropped short too, though not buzzed; he just liked it that way, for no particular reason.
“Hey, man.” Tomas walked into the kitchen, the rubber soles of his brown suede shoes squeaking on the tile floor. He patted his palm on the blond wood cupboards several times like he was keeping time to a tune playing in his head. “What’s up?”
Tomas wore a white T-shirt and jeans, swinging a leather jacket by one finger. His shaggy brown hair fell partly over his face, shading his green eyes. The girls liked Tomas; maybe it was that Irish look. He had more of an accent than the other two since his parents spoke Irish a lot at home; he tended to sound like his dad.
“It’s Saturday night. What do you want to do?” Sean asked, rummaging through the fridge for something
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