The Perfect Fit: A stand-alone why choose romance

With Xander’s arms around me and his mouth nuzzling my neck, I watch West and Zeke prepare dinner, their forearms occasionally brushing. While they work, they chat quietly. I’m unable to hear what they’re saying, but I do hear West’s soft laugh just before he runs his hand down Zeke’s jaw to his neck. Their brief kiss definitely involves some tongue, and I can’t help the way my body reacts to watching them together. Their dynamic is tender and sweet. And so damn hot my panties grow damp.

“Do they ever …?” I whisper to Xander.

He presses his lips to my ear. “Sometimes. I get horny as fuck watching them together.”

I giggle. “Me too.”

“A horny Lily and at least an hour until dinner.” He hums against my skin. “Hmm. What’s a guy to do?” Without waiting for a response, he hoists me over his shoulder and carries me from the room.





Chapter

Eighteen





LILY


“Your usual.” Our server places my favorite sandwich down in front of me, and my stomach growls.

“He is so into you,” Jen says with a wicked grin.

“He is not.”

“Is too.” She pops a french fry into her mouth.

“So, how are you and Trey?” I take a bite of my delicious lunch.

She sighs dreamily, her eyes practically glazing over. “He is sooo hot, Lil. I mean, like freakishly hot. And that man’s dick should come with a health warning, I swear.”

Snorting a laugh, I place my hand over my mouth and try not to spray her with chewed-up bits of chicken and avocado. “So you two living together hasn’t been a bad thing?” Two weeks have passed since we had to leave her apartment, which is a long time for Jen. The woman has an innate fear of commitment.

“Not at all. In fact, I’m kind of sad I’ll be moving back home tomorrow. Speaking of which.” She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. “Will you be coming home too?”

Chewing my sandwich, I look up at the ceiling.

“Lils?” she prompts.

I wrinkle my nose. “No.”

“You’re staying with the three hot billionaires in the Park Avenue penthouse? Shocker.” Smirking, she rolls her eyes.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

She shakes her head. “Not at all. You were going to move out anyway. And if I was getting dicked down by the Unholy Trinity every night, I wouldn’t leave either.”

My face burns. “I do not get dicked down by all three of them,” I say in a harsh whisper, darting my eyes left and right to make sure nobody heard her.

She tilts her head and stares at me.

My lips curve up at the corners. “Just two.”

She shrieks with laughter. Once she calms down, I put my hand on her wrist. “Is that bad?”

“Hell no! You’re out there living your best life, girl. You enjoy those fine pieces of man meat while you can.”

Relieved, I take another bite of my sandwich. She’s totally right. There’s no way this arrangement can last forever, so I should enjoy it while I can. How many women get the chance to date three men as hot as Xander, West, and Zeke? Although I can’t really count Zeke. Despite the connection we seemed to have, and even though he said he was on board with the whole arrangement, he hasn’t touched me and has barely spoken to me since I moved in.

Jen steals a potato chip from my plate. “So, how’s your article coming along?”

I swallow and wash my food down with a gulp of soda. “The last one I was working on didn’t pan out, but I’m researching a new one. Julian thinks it could be promising.”

“You could just publish it yourself. Online or something. Julian doesn’t get to decide what you write.”

“Um. He’s the editor of the magazine I want to work for, so he kind of does,” I remind her. “And I do want to publish my own stuff one day, but I want to be with a reputable publication first. To prove I can do it, ya know. And Grayson’s is one of the most widely circulated magazines in the country.”

“Well, you are sleeping with the guys who are about to own it. Just tell them to make Julian put your article in the next issue.”

I shake my head. “You know that isn’t how I want to do this, Jen. What’s the point of working my ass off all this time? I want my article to be in there because it’s good, not because I’m getting dicked down by the boss.”

“Boss-es,” she corrects me.

I grin at her. “Eat your fries.”





Xander and West messaged me to say they were working late, so I know they aren’t home when I get back to the apartment, but the music coming from the den tells me Zeke’s here. I go to find him, hoping he’ll tell me what he wants for dinner. I hate choosing what to cook. Having to decide what to make is one of the worst parts of adulting.

I walk into the room to find him wearing only a pair of tight suit pants. His hair is damp like he recently took a shower, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of his bare torso. He’s always kept his shirt on around me before. “Wow.” Realizing I just said that out loud, I slap my hand over my mouth while he closes the gap between us.

“Zeke, your tattoos are beautiful.” I instinctively reach out to trace the lines of ink adorning his chest and abs, but he grips my wrist before I can touch him, squeezing hard enough to make me wince.

“I don’t like being touched,” he says with a throaty growl.

“West and Fitch touch you.”

He sneers. “They’ve known me forever.”

“So, it’s a trust thing, then?” I ask, raking my eyes over the intricate works of art.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.” I’m surprised by the sudden knowledge that I would give anything to earn his trust.

“You getting a good look there?”

My eyes travel back to his, which are smoldering with anger and … something else I can’t identify. “I could stare at them all day. They’re incredible.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re really looking at, buttercup?”

Buttercup? He makes the term of endearment sound like an insult. But I have no idea what he’s talking about, and my frown deepens. “What?”

He steps forward, and now his chiseled body is only a few inches from mine. Heat radiates from his skin, warming me even through my tank top. A pulsing sensation builds between my thighs.

“You heard me.” His voice drops another octave, its steady cadence making goosebumps prickle along my forearms.

What the hell is this guy’s deal? “Why did you lie, Ezekiel?”

His scowl deepens. “What?”

“You lied to me. When I asked you if you wanted me here, you said yes.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “So?”

“It seems like you don’t want me here at all.” I shrug, trying to pull off an Academy Award-winning display of disinterest.

His head falls back, and he lets out a dark, arrogant laugh, then fixes those fiery eyes on me again. “And why do you say that, buttercup? Because I don’t want you looking at my scars?”

I roll my eyes. Asshole. “What scars?”

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