Imperfectly Bad Read Online Free

secret: I knew a thing or two about it. In fact, I’d spent my teenage years hopelessly, head-over-heels, in love and it didn’t get me anything besides a whole lot of heartbreak.
    Fuck love, and all its bullshit promises.
    Who gives a shit about hearing those three little words?
    I love you.
    Pfft.
    “Oh God! Oh, Rob! Faster! Harder!” That’s all I ever really needed to hear. In fact, it was pretty much all I ever heard. At a guess, I’d say it was one of the main things that bugged Tyler about living with me. Either that, or he put it all in his spank bank. But that was neither here nor there. That shit was the stuff dreams were made of.
    I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Sure, Elizabeth. Whatever you say.”
    “Shut up, Rob,” she spat back.
    The hatred was mutual. She loathed being around me just as much I did her, but we both sucked it up and dealt with it for Tyler. We just refused to be nice to each other.
    Flipping her the middle finger, I directed my attention back to Tyler.
    “So, what are you doing?”
    “I told this chump”—he gestured towards the guy standing next to them—“that I could bench press Half-Pint a hundred times…”
    As he tailed off I laughed, assuming my part in this hustle. We’d done this a time or two. “Oh yeah?” Tyler and I loved to use his freakish strength to our advantage at parties. Pull-ups, push-ups, bench pressing bitches. Yeah, it had always been part of our thing.
    “Fuckin’ yeah,” Tyler said with a smile. Elizabeth’s eyes darted back and forth between us, unaware of what we were doing.
    “There’s no way,” the guy said.
    “Well, I’d like to see him try…” I said casually. Tyler could do it, I’d seen him lift weights for years, but I was a sucker for a good party trick.
    In true glory days fashion, Tyler, always a steroidal maniac when drunk, ripped off his shirt and lay down on the coffee table. Once he was comfortable, he gestured with his head towards Elizabeth. If I knew Elizabeth Sloan, this would go over like a fart in church.
    As if on cue, Elizabeth shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest in protest. “No way, Tyler Johnston. You are not bench pressing me like a piece of meat.”
    “Oh, don’t be such a goody two-shoes,” I teased.
    She glared at me. “I hate you.”
    “Feeling’s mutual.”
    “C’mon, Babe,” Tyler pleaded from the table. “If you let me play, I promise I’ll take you home straight afterward.”
    Frown lines appeared on her forehead as Elizabeth contemplated his offer. She hated when we had house parties, saying they were skeezy and put her on edge. Which, knowing what I know about her past, is understandable. Elizabeth Sloan had been through a lot. Back in high school, she’d been the victim of a fairly brutal assault that had left her hardened to the world. It had taken a while, but Tyler had stuck at it and had brought her back to life.
    She bit her lip, obviously weighing her options out before she made a choice, but with Tyler’s offer to take her home straight after, I knew her well enough to know that she would take the deal. It was possible that she hated house parties more than she hated me.
    She sighed before sitting on his lap and pressing her forehead to his. “Fine.”
    Seemingly oblivious to the crowd around him, or maybe he just didn’t give a shit, he crashed his lips onto hers and dipped her back into his arms. Their lips separated as she straightened in his arms and he pushed her over his head. I had a feeling that this wasn’t their first rodeo, I imagine that the two of them had probably made a go of this before. In fact, thinking back on it, I know I’d seen Tyler and Elizabeth do this one time when just the three of us were at the apartment. She’d been in on it the whole time. Impressed, I smirked. It looked like Tyler would be making an easy $50.
    A few minutes later, sweat was beading from Tyler’s forehead and his arms were shaking, but he had nearly reached his