Between Us (all of us #1)

T W O

T R E N T O N

"I'm gonna be your stepdad some day, bro. Bet on it," I say, drying my face off on a pool towel.

"Fuck you." Diesel laughs before driving his fist into my side.

That's been the running joke since we were preteens. Since the three of us hit puberty and realized Diesel's mom was a fucking delicacy. A rarity, considering everyone else's moms' looked like, well...moms. Often sporting messy buns and tired eyes. They smelled like rose perfume and Aqua Net. The kind that curled their bangs and wore baggy scrubs most of the day, then white bath robes and rollers in their hair the rest of the time.

They were the kind of mom's that force fed our friends just because they were at the house, the kind of moms who'd never, ever let us drink or party on their property. They called us sweetie, or honey, or baby. But Diesel's mom, she never uttered those words—they wouldn't sound so innocent coming from her.

Mrs. Cooper's just, different.

She walks around the house in a silk lounge robe and wears her hair in long waves like she's just done print shots for a Victoria's Secret catalogue. I always wondered what she wore underneath the thin fabric. The death grip she has on it every time she's around me makes me guess it's either lacy underwear or nothing at all.

I always had a little innocent crush on her when I was a kid, but when I turned thirteen, things changed. When her tits bounced, it was captivating. And anytime her shirt rode up, it was like all eyes were summoned for a peek at any inch of bare skin that made itself known to us. She was hot, and she's still hot. She's always been hot.

It's fact.

Even Diesel knew it, and he hated it.

But he can't deny that having an insanely attractive mom has gotten him out of a whole lot of shit, not to mention the fact that it's gotten him the majority of his friends over the years.

Everyone wanted to hang at Diesel's house because his Mom's the hot housewife that stays home all day and walks around in leggings and crop tops. Fucking crop tops.

My eyes rise up to her window again. I love catching her watching me. She can't deny the joint attraction there is between us, but she does because it's unorthodox. I can tell she beats herself up about it, but fuck is it sexy to see her get all hot and bothered when I get too close.

Diesel smacks my thigh with the back of his hand as a billow of smoke flows out of his mouth. "Marina's here."

"Fuck," I mutter and he laughs.

Marina's the cute, petite blonde we grew up with. She's always had these golden doe eyes and her long wavy hair is never not braided or twisted in some way around her hairline. I crushed on her for a short while, and then the feeling soon disappeared like I never did.

I see the box she's come in with as she shuts the gate and feel a little bad for not wanting her here for a second. And it's not even that I don't want her here, I just...I don't know.

She smiles up at me as she walks into my open arm. "Happy birthday, Trent."

"Thanks." I squeeze her into my side, feeling her small hand wrap around my torso.

"Aw, you guys are cute." Diesel crinkles his nose at us and I get the compulsive visual of drawing back my fist and launching at his jaw. He's been pushing for us to get together for a couple of years now and it's annoying.

I open the box, revealing a giant chocolate cupcake with a candle shaped like the number eighteen sticking out of the top of it. She's smiling at me, flicking the lighter in her hand.