Something Like Perfect

by Stephens, S. C.

  PRAISE FOR S.C. STEPHENS

  “From page one, this book is impossible to put down.”

  —Abbi Glines, on Thoughtless

  “S.C. Stephens at her best!”

  —Katy Evans, on Thoughtful

  “Addicting and heart pounding—you won’t be able to put it down until you’ve devoured every word.”

  —Christina Lauren, on Untamed

  ALSO BY S.C. STEPHENS

  Thoughtless Series

  Thoughtless

  Effortless (Book 2)

  Reckless (Book 3)

  Thoughtful (Thoughtless alternate POV)

  Untamed (Book 4)

  Rush Series

  Furious Rush

  Dangerous Rush (Book 2)

  Undeniable Rush (Book 3)

  Conversion Series

  Conversion

  Bloodlines (Book 2)

  ’Til Death (Book 3)

  The Next Generation (Book 4)

  The Beast Within (Book 5)

  Family Is Forever (Book 6)

  Stand-Alone Books

  Collision Course

  It’s All Relative

  Under the Northern Lights

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2020 by S.C. Stephens

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542003810

  ISBN-10: 1542003814

  Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson

  For KK. Thank you for keeping me moving forward!

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  It was a chilly night in LA, and I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself as my friends and I walked down the sidewalk to our favorite club. I was exhausted, and I really wanted to go home to my apartment and sleep for about a hundred years, but I couldn’t. Today was my best friend’s birthday, and we were celebrating.

  “Valerie, why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

  I looked over at the tall redhead walking beside me. Stephanie, the birthday girl and my best friend. “Culinary school is kicking my ass,” I told her. She frowned, like she was worried about me, and I quickly swished my hand to wipe away her concern. “It’s a good tired, I swear. I love school.” Even as I said it, visions of soufflés, risottos, and tartars filled my head. God, I couldn’t wait for Monday.

  Smiling, her blue eyes shining with joy, Steph looped her arm around mine. “Well, I’m glad you’re coming out with us. And not just because it’s my birthday. You need to unwind.” Steph had always been the protector of our little group, caring and empathetic. She was the one we all went to when we needed a shoulder to cry on.

  I grinned at Steph, and the smile instantly turned into a yawn. On the other side of me, my friend Alicia smacked my arm. “Stop that. You’re making me tired, and it’s not even ten o’clock.” Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she smirked at me. Where Steph was sweet, Alicia was blunt and outspoken. She told the world exactly what she felt about it; I loved that about her.

  “Sorry,” I said, clenching my jaw to stop myself from yawning again.

  My third friend, Chloe—walking behind me with my sister, Kylie—started giggling. Cute, sweet, and so short you could almost tuck her in your pocket, Chloe was the official jokester of the group; she found everything funny and had a way of making everyone else see the humor in any situation.

  At hearing Chloe snort, Kylie started laughing too. I tossed a glare at her. The sister code clearly stated that she shouldn’t laugh at my misery. Kylie cringed in apology, then continued laughing. So much for the sister code.

  Rolling my eyes, I twisted back around to face the club that was now just a few feet away. The thumping music inside the building was so loud I could feel it vibrating through my chest. Its energy perked me up a bit. Maybe Steph was right. Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

  The five of us walked inside and headed straight for the bar. Dancing was always better once you had a shot or two dulling your senses. I ordered a round of whiskey for everyone, then passed them out.

  After everyone had one, we formed a circle—a symbol of our impenetrable bond. “To Steph,” I said. “The best one of us.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Alicia quipped, fluffing her dark wavy hair. “I’m pretty fabulous.”

  We all laughed, then clinked our glasses together. “To Steph,” we all said as one, and then we tipped the glasses back. It burned in the best possible way, and I was immediately back at the bar, ordering another round. This night was going to be so expensive but so worth it.

  Kylie joined me at the bar while I waited for the bartender to precisely fill each shot glass. My sister was chewing on her lip, looking really guilty about something, so I couldn’t help but ask her what was going on. “You okay?”

  She grinned as she tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears. “Yeah, why?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem like you want to say something, but at the same time, you don’t want to say something.”

  With a groan, she dropped her head back. “Ugh, I hate how you can read me like a book.”

  Half smiling, I shrugged. “That comes with being a big sister.”

  She raised a pale eyebrow, amused. “You’re ten months older than me. That hardly qualifies you as being wiser than me.”

  My smile grew as I grabbed some of the finished drinks. “All that matters is the older part. Doesn’t matter if it’s ten months or ten minutes. I’ll always know best.”

  She laughed at my statement, then bit her lip again. “Okay . . . I have a secret.”

  Handing her two of the glasses, I let out a loud groan. “Oh my God, Kylie . . . how many times have I told you the first step to spilling a secret is telling someone you have one? Seal those lips.”

  She giggled again, then shook her head. “Oh, I’m not spilling anything yet.”

  “Then why did you tell me? Are you trying to drive me insane?”

  “No, I’m just . . . I’m excited.” She immediately held a hand up, like she was blocking my questions. “But it’s too soon to say anything. I don’t want to jinx it. You’ll know soon, though, I promise.”

  I studied her face for a moment. The big bright-blue eyes, almost carbon copies of mine. The commercial-worthy silky blonde hair, also similar to mine. We definitely had a familial resemblance, but Kylie had inherited Mom’s perky nose and perfect cheekbones, while I’d inherited Dad’s height—I had a good six inches on her. Curiosity was killing me, but my sister was an integral part of my life, closer than a best friend, so I respected her wishes.

  “All right, f
ine, keep your secret. But if you don’t spill soon, I will hold you down and tickle your armpits until you tell me everything inside your head. All your secrets will be mine.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she gaped at me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Oh yes, I would. Just you remember that.”

  She smirked, then laughed, then nodded. “I’ll tell you everything soon, I swear. And like your schooling, it’s a good thing, Val. A great thing.”

  Her eyes were sparkling so much I could practically see the heart bubbles floating in the air around her. Carefully wrapping my arm around her in a quick hug, I indicated where the other girls were waiting. “Enough sappy stuff. Let’s get our drink on.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said, laughing. Then she helped me carry the alcohol to our friends.

  Two hours later, I was higher than a kite and feeling no pain. I’d definitely overdone the celebrating, but I had really needed the break. I hadn’t expected training for my dream career to be as intense and high pressure as it was. My teacher believed in realism, and his classroom was more like a battlefield than a kitchen. But he didn’t want to coddle us when he knew the real world would be vicious. He wanted to give us a taste so we could drop out now if we didn’t like it. I appreciated that. I’d rather know exactly what I was getting into than think I was getting something else and be caught off guard. After completing this school, I would be ready for anything. Bring it, world. I’m ready.

  By the time we were done for the night, my head was twirling like a top. Steph patted my back the entire cab ride home. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay overnight with you? I really don’t mind.”

  Withholding a groan as I sat with my head down between my legs, I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. I just . . . need sleep.” And the world to stop spinning.

  Steph still saw me into my apartment and tucked me into bed before leaving. That was just the sort of friend she was. It made me feel guilty. It was her birthday; I should be holding her hair back while she emptied her stomach, not the other way around.

  When I woke up in the morning, I regretted every life decision I’d ever made. My head was throbbing, my stomach was roiling, and I was still wearing the same clothes I’d had on last night. Coffee. I needed coffee. But not the lame, watered-down version I made on my kitchen counter. No, I needed full-strength, no-messing-around, made-by-a-professional espresso. Good thing my favorite coffee bar was right around the corner from my apartment. Thank God for city living.

  After clearing my stomach—three times—I changed my clothes, snatched my purse, grabbed my sunglasses, and made my way to the caffeine haven. The smell instantly soothed my churning stomach when I stepped inside. I was halfway to feeling better. One cup of joe, and I’d be nearly human again.

  I felt like death as I waited for my turn. Why did getting coffee take so long? Pour, next. Pour, next. It seemed like it should take no time at all to get through the line. But then again . . . you couldn’t rush perfection, and these guys really did make the best coffee in the city.

  At least I had something yummy to look at while I waited. The man in front of me had to be a full-time model. If he did anything other than promote underwear for Calvin Klein, I’d be shocked. His body was perfect—not too bulky, not too lean, and clearly defined. He couldn’t hide that with his shirt and shorts. And the glimpses I’d caught of his face had only confirmed my model theory—perfect cheekbones, masculine jaw, green freaking eyes. And to top it all off, he had perfect semishaggy, I don’t care, but I really care light-brown hair. He was the epitome of every woman’s fantasy, and I was too sick to my stomach to make a move on him.

  Why did I have to run into him today? I knew I looked awful, I knew my hair was atrocious, and I knew that underneath my gargantuan sunglasses, my eyes were worn and bloodshot. Looking like this was not how you grabbed the attention of a guy like that. It killed me that I’d never see him again after today, and as I stepped up to the barista, I prayed that somehow I’d be given an opportunity to interact with him. Something that would trump how I looked today.

  “How much do I owe you?” I croaked, my voice unusually raspy.

  “Nothing. The man in front of you paid.”

  My eyes shot wide open at that, and I lowered my sunglasses to look at her. “What?” Because I swear you just said that hot guy bought me coffee.

  The barista pointed at said stranger. Her eyes looked a little starry as she stared at him. “He paid for your drink.”

  Mouth agape, I looked over at him. He was busy talking to someone in the waiting area, not looking my way. As I got a good look at his face, instead of just quick profile glances when he’d turned his head, my heart started racing. Wow . . . this was the most attractive man I’d ever seen, and he’d just bought me a drink. Sure, it was only coffee, but . . . that had to mean something, right? He’d noticed me, and he was interested?

  Play it cool; don’t overreact. I didn’t want to scare him away by being overeager. Or by being really hungover. Why hadn’t I showered this morning? Or brushed my teeth?

  I was nervous as I moved into the waiting area. Why did this have to happen today? When I didn’t have my battle armor on, when all my defenses were down? I hadn’t believed in the power of makeup before, but I sure did now. A guy this gorgeous . . . well, you’d better look like Megan Fox to approach him. And I didn’t at the moment. But he’d bought my coffee. Not acknowledging him would be rude, so I had no choice but to approach him. Just to thank him, of course.

  Nervous thrills tore through my veins as I stepped closer to him. They intensified when the man he was talking to picked up his coffee, leaving him alone. Now’s my chance. I inched into his personal space, and he turned his attention in my direction. Once those jade eyes focused in on me, my breath caught, and I swear my heart stopped. How did so much perfection end up in one person?

  Knowing I should stop staring and say something, I quickly blurted out, “Thank you.” He tilted his head, confused, and I indicated the baristas making espressos behind me. “For the coffee. Thank you for the coffee.”

  He glanced back at them, then returned his attention to me . . . and smiled. “You’re welcome. I try to pay it forward whenever I can, and it seemed like you could really use a pick-me-up today.”

  A small part of me was disappointed by his answer—he wasn’t hitting on me; I’d just been the lucky recipient of a kind gesture—but mostly I was awed by his sweetness. Hot and generous. And no wedding ring. How was this man not married yet?

  As I mumbled an incoherent response, his eyes flicked over my appearance, and his smile slowly shifted into an adorable smirk. “Rough night last night?” he asked, playfulness in his voice.

  Exhaling a heavy breath, I nodded. Then I lowered my sunglasses and let him see my tired eyes. “You have no idea.”

  He laughed, and I had to restrain myself from grabbing my phone and recording the sound so I could listen to it over and over again. He hadn’t run away yet, and he’d even extended the conversation. Maybe the coffee had been an act of kindness and not flirtatiousness, but that didn’t rule out the possibility that he was interested. His eyes were certainly warm and friendly. Receptive. I had nothing to lose and a lot to gain, so I sucked in a deep breath and took a chance.

  “Maybe I could repay your kindness with a drink tonight? Maybe dinner too . . .”

  My heart rampaged inside my chest as I waited for a response from him. His smile widened, and my chest almost burst, there was so much hope running through it—he’s going to say yes. But then he frowned, turning the bright hope into icy disappointment. “Sorry, I can’t. I just started seeing someone. It’s new, but I really like her.”

  I blew out a long exhale. Of course he was seeing someone. Hot men didn’t stay single for long. Especially when they were sweet. Especially when they clearly had good hearts. Because it would have been really easy for him to say he was single and date us both for a while. But he hadn’t. He’d fessed up immediately. A
nd now I was pretty sure I was in love with him.

  Trying to hold in my embarrassment at being rejected, I slapped on a smile and told him, “No problem. Thank you for the coffee.” It was at this point that I noticed something about him that I really should have noticed earlier. “Oh, wow . . . your shirt . . . I have the exact same one. That’s my favorite show.”

  He looked down at the shirt I couldn’t stop staring at. It was an image from a really obscure anime show that I loved. A show I adored completely on my own, because everyone I knew either hated it or had never heard of it and had no interest in learning more about it. And here he was, displaying his fondness for it on his chest.

  “Oh yeah?” he said, looking back up at me. “I rarely meet anyone who knows what this is. Except at anime conventions, of course. Then I get showered with compliments and high fives.” He laughed and shrugged, and I was completely blown away. He went to conventions. He loved anime. He loved my anime. Now I knew I was in love with him.

  “I know what you mean,” I murmured. “I go every year, and I always wear my shirt.” Our shirt.

  His eyes sparkled as he tilted his head at me. “Huh. Small world, isn’t it?”

  Yes. And no. If the world were just a bit smaller, I would have met him when he was single.

  The barista suddenly called out the name Jake, and this truly captivating stranger swiveled his head her way. Jake. Thank you, barista. Now I had a name for my fantasies.

  Jake turned his head back to me, then stuck out his hand. “That’s me. It was nice to meet you . . .”

  He let the sentence trail off with an eyebrow raised. Knowing what he wanted, I said, “Valerie,” then took his offered hand. Touching him sent an unexpected rush of electrified energy through me; I doubted I even needed the coffee now. His skin was the perfect mixture of rough and soft, warm and dry, firm and tender. Being connected to him was intoxicating, and I kind of never wanted to let go.

  “Valerie . . .” He smiled as he slowly said my name, like he was savoring it. “Enjoy your coffee. And I hope you feel better after drinking it.”