Page 1 of That Pretty Pucking Mouth

Chapter 1

It’s the way she says it that makes me stop.

Not the words at first. It’s something about her voice, clear and precise, like she’s dissecting the world around her just to see how it ticks.

I hear it from across the room, cut through the music and the fake laughter. A girl, talking low to a group of girls near the drink table. I wouldn’t have noticed her if I wasn’t already bored and on edge. But then she says it again, soft and dead serious.

“I just want to understand what makes people do terrible things.”

It’s not a joke. She’s not trying to impress anyone. She means it.

And I turn to get a look at that soft voice.

The moment I see her, everything else fades to static.

Everything dulls, dims…leaving only her and I. In a room brimming with people, she is the only one I see.

A glowing ember in the darkness of my existence.

And I want her more than anything.

I watch as the girls she is speaking to ignore her statement. She stands awkwardly at the edge of the room, her gaze is fixed on the glass of orange juice in her hand, only rising when a member of the circle of people surrounding her shifts.

I recognize a few people in the crush, but they all pale in comparison to her.

She’s delicate, a pale dark-haired dove in a frilly green dress with skin like satin. My eyes follow her as an older woman in the circle turns to speak to her. When she responds, her lips, pink and full, moving with her words are plush and fuckable.

Her response is short and curt before she looks back at her glass, her bare shoulders rising and falling with a sigh.

My hand tightens around my own glass, a ball of hope, greed and something more sinister inflating in my chest as I will her gaze to rise one more time, to me.

Look at me, dove.

The need for her to look at me is so raw and intense, I consider walking over there, slipping my hand under her chin and forcing her eyes to me. My feet start moving.

One step, two…

The anticipation of being close to her is slowing the breath in my lungs, my heart pounds hard against my rib cage and I feel my mouth dry.

Just a few more feet…

A familiar face slips in in front of me, blocking my view of my dove, and I almost growl in annoyance at the grinning face of my brother.

“That’s a look,” he pauses to glance behind him. “You about to murder someone?”

“You’re in my way,” I seethe, my agitation growing at not being able to see her.

I need to see her.

I need…

“Come with me. Dad wants to introduce you to some people,” Archie says, stepping more into my space. He knows our father and I aren’t fucking talking. “The least you can do is play this façade and the night will be over soon, brother.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he wants.”

She could be gone… I don’t even know her name… How will I find her again if I don’t know her name?

“Five fucking minutes.” He carts me away from her.

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