Little Miss Perfect

By Julia Kent

Ten years ago, my high school crush found me during senior finals week in the student parking lot with my car decorated with items you find behind a drugstore counter and a ""Most Likely to..."" banner that would make a pro blush. And by ""pro"", I don't mean golf.

In under an hour, everything I knew about myself was turned upside down and inside out, just as our high school career was in its final hours.

Then again, he's the high school quarterback. He's used to performing when the clock's running out.

Me? I perform well under pressure, too.

But not when Will Lotham is about to kiss me.

Or is he?

Little Miss Perfect is a prequel to the events that take place in Fluffy, New York Times best-selling author Julia Kent's new book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prosaic Press
• Release date: Oct 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781950172306

Julia Kent

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, Italian, and German, with more titles releasing in the future. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire in a rom com). She lives in New England with her husband and children in a household where everyone but Julia lacks the gene to change empty toilet paper rolls.

Book preview

1

High school finals week. Senior year. Class of 2009 at Harmony Hills High School.

---

Mallory?

I whip around as my name echoes in the high school hallway, knowing that voice, unable to believe that voice is calling my name. The voice attached to the lips and face and tongue and body and omigod is Will Lotham actually, trying to get my attention?

Now?

I mean… finally?

It’s high school senior year finals week. The end. We’re done. I have one more final exam left and my government textbook is in my car, an oversight I'm remedying right now. A breeze from a massive air vent in the wall shoves my knit skirt toward Will as he walks up to me, as if my skirt is seeking a hug. A kiss.

Contact of any kind.

It’s been four years of torture, loving Will Lotham.

Or, rather, loving my fantasy version of him.

Four years of torture he knows nothing about, because crushing on someone means never having the guts to say a word. I'm wallpaper as far as he's concerned.

Except for that pesky problem with being his final obstacle on the road to valedictory.

We're tied for that honor.

And I'm determined to beat him.

I —

That’s all I can manage as Will approaches, those deeply jewel-blue and green eyes framed by gorgeous lashes, his hair longer than usual because he doesn’t have to keep it close cropped for football, lacrosse, and track anymore. We’re seniors. He’s off to Dartmouth and I’m going to Brown. We’re the only two in our graduating class who made it to the Ivy League, but aside from that, we have nothing in common.

Not one thing.

Sadly.

Hey. What are you doing here? he asks, the question understandable as he looks around the hall. The white speckled linoleum starts to incline, the long hallway to the vocational wing of our high school an echo chamber. Neither Will nor I are in voc ed classes, so we must both be headed for the parking lot. This is a shortcut people use, but I haven't in a long time.

Hi, I say, breathless, looking at him as if expecting him to go poof, like he's an apparition, one I've conjured in the last-minute desperation of the waning hours of ever seeing him again. My hair is long and unmanageable, the auburn curls turning into a frizzy mess when it's rainy, like today. Eyeing the window, I see the rain's stopped. My glasses are smudged, but he's crystal clear when I finally look right at him.

To find he's staring right back.

Hey. You okay? Will stops and studies me with concern, a realness to him I've never seen before. He holds his arms with authority, not letting his hands dangle like some guys, or shoving them in his front pockets and looking awkward. Kind eyes take me in, brow tight with a little concern.

A little.

Let's not get carried away here.

"What? No. I'm fine. Yes. Fine." I laugh at myself, pulse racing, smoothing my baby blue cotton shirt against my hips, resisting the urge to pluck at a tiny thread that begs for attention. My chest feels like an elephant is taking a nap on it, but my hands turn into helium balloons.

And my heart?

It's flopping in my chest like a fish out of water.

It's just exam stress. You know. I give him a smirk, eyes raised, because he knows. I know exactly how much Will Lotham knows about academic stress.

He nods.

My shoes click clack on the floor as we resume walking, the hard soles making my teeth rattle as I notice everything in triplicate. Who knew Will could trigger electric fields in my skin?

I did. I knew. I soooooo knew.

I knew four years ago, the day we met for the first time, and time hasn't changed anything.

As we reach the doors to outside, Will moves a little faster, pushing the horizontal bar and then standing there like a gentleman, waiting for me to pass. Carefully, I inhale as I move inches from him, closer to him than I've ever been, his scent as delicious in person as I've imagined it for – yep.

Four years.