–AVALINE–
SaturdayEvening
By the time I got to Bella's house, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in hazy golds and pinks. My shift at the café had ended an hour ago, and my feet ached, my shirt still smelling faintly of espresso and cinnamon. But Bella's gate opened before I even reached the front steps.
Her house was… well, "house" didn't quite do it justice.
Sleek, modern architecture. Glass walls that shimmered like mirrors. A marble driveway with two luxury cars parked like they belonged on magazine covers. I'd been here before, but it still felt like walking into a Vogue spread every time.
Her mom was a high-end corporate lawyer — the kind that worked across time zones and casually sued billionaires. Her dad? A tech CEO. He'd once launched a crypto startup I couldn't pronounce and now apparently spent more time in Dubai than New York.
Bella never liked that part. She joked about it all the time, how her parents only remembered her birthday when their assistant reminded them. But over time, she'd adapted. The silence. The space. The kind of loneliness even luxury couldn't drown.
The door flew open before I knocked.
"Look what the coffee gods dragged in," Bella grinned, barefoot and in a fluffy white robe, her curls piled in a towel. "Come in, come in — make yourself at home. You practically live here anyway."
She pulled me inside like a tornado, then closed the door behind us. The entryway gleamed. Glass staircase, chandelier like floating diamonds, candlelight flickering from some expensive diffuser.
I followed her upstairs, carrying my little duffle bag with the dress I brought — plain, modest, safe.
"You got here just in time," she said. "Joshua's coming to pick us at 8. He already texted me like five times. Boy's too excited."
Her room looked like it belonged to an influencer. Floor-length mirror, plush rug, a vanity filled with more makeup than a Sephora aisle. Soft LED lights glowed along the edges of the ceiling, casting everything in a pale rose hue.
"Bathroom's yours," she said, flopping on her bed with a dramatic sigh. "Please wash the scent of capitalism off you. You smell like hard work and oat milk."
I rolled my eyes, laughing. "You're annoying."
"You love me."
Her bathroom was — of course — beautiful. Black marble walls. A huge gold-rimmed mirror. Rainfall shower with lavender soap already waiting in a crystal tray. I let the water wash over me, scrubbing off the day, the sweat, the nerves. I wrapped myself in a spare robe — black satin — and padded back into the room.
Bella was already dressed.
I stopped.
She wore a shimmery gold dress that clung to her like it was designed just for her. Off-shoulder. Thigh-slit. She hadn't even packed her curls yet, and she still looked like a movie star.
"How do I look?" she asked, striking a playful pose.
"Like you walked out of a dream," I smiled. "You look gorgeous, B."
"You're my favorite person," she grinned, grabbing her setting spray. "Now your turn. Go change."
I ducked into her wardrobe room — if you could even call it a room. It was a mini boutique. Glass shelves, color-coded racks, drawers that opened with a soft click. My dress felt even more boring now. A red gown, long and loose. It had full coverage, no cling, no curve. Exactly how I liked it.
I stepped out and called for her.
Bella looked up from her phone… and immediately winced.
"Oh my God, Avi," she groaned, hitting her forehead. "Are you going to a church service? This is a freaking party. Like a night party! You can't— You just can't wear this."
I frowned. "It's the only thing I brought."
"There's so much wrong with that sentence," she muttered. "Jesus mother of grace…"
"I don't see what's wrong with it," I said.
"You're dressed like a wholesome TV pastor. They'll laugh at you."
"I don't have anything else."
Bella stood up. "Good thing I prepared for this exact disaster. Knew you'd bring something holy."
She stormed into the wardrobe room. I followed hesitantly. She scanned through the racks with dramatic flair, then held up a yellow dress like it was Excalibur.
"No," I said instantly. "You are not making me wear that."
"Oh, but I am," she said with a wicked grin. "By force if necessary."
"I'm not doing this."
"Girl," she walked over and placed the dress in my hands, "if you don't wear this, I'll cry. And I'll fake my death. And it'll be on your conscience."
I groaned.
"You'll look amazing. Trust me."
Reluctantly — so reluctantly — I slipped into the bathroom to change.
The dress was… revealing. V-neck so low I swore I saw my heartbeat. Holes cut into the sides, clinging to my waist, hugging my hips. The yellow fabric was soft, shiny, too tight. My breasts peeked just enough that I wanted to hide under the sink.
I stepped out slowly.
Bella gasped — loudly. "Oh. My. GOD."
I covered my chest. "I look like a prostitute."
"You look like a goddess," she said, walking around me. "Your shape, Avi. Girl, your hips? Your boobs?? I'm actually mad at you right now."
"I don't like it," I whispered.
"It's perfect. Look at me—" she spun around, her own dress glittering. "We're both showing skin. That's the theme."
"I feel naked."
"Good. That's the vibe."
I laughed nervously. "I just… I don't know. It's exhausting having all this."
Bella rolled her eyes. "God gives the right things to the wrong people," she muttered, teasing. "Anyway, sit. I'm doing your makeup."
She painted me like I was a canvas. Soft glam. A little shimmer. Pulled my curls back into a slick ponytail, then added lip gloss that tasted like vanilla. When she finished, I barely recognized myself.
We went downstairs and grabbed dinner from the kitchen — sushi and fries she ordered in. By the time we were done, it was 7:30. My stomach twisted with nerves.
On the couch, I tried to act normal, scrolling aimlessly.
Bella turned to me. "Alright. First party, so I'm giving you rules."
I raised a brow. "Rules?"
"Girl rules. Rule number one — don't follow a dude into any private room. He'll sweet-talk you, and then bam, you're getting fucked."
My jaw dropped. "Bella!"
She ignored me. "Rule two — don't take drinks from strangers. Ever. They could be drugged."
I nodded slowly.
"Rule three — don't start dancing inside a group of guys. You'll get groped."
"Oh my gosh."
"Rule four — don't open random doors. You will see someone getting raw doggy."
"BELLAAA—"
"Rule five — no making out with strangers. Herpes is real. And don't give out your number"
I looked horrified. She just sipped her soda.
"Rule six — stay close to us. At all times. You hear me?"
I nodded like I was in church. "Yes, ma'am."
Just then, my phone buzzed. A text from Josh.
"Outside. Come out, girls."
We grabbed our bags and walked to the front door. A sleek red car was waiting, shining like candy under the porch lights.
Josh got out with a grin.
When he saw me, his jaw dropped. "Oh my God… Ava. You look like— an angel. A stunning angel."
I blushed so hard I looked away. "Thank you…"
He opened the door for me, all gentlemanly. I slid in, heart racing.
Bella stood there, arms crossed. "You're not gonna open mine?"
Josh raised a brow. "I only do that for special girls."
"Oh, eat dirt," she snapped, smacking his arm as he laughed.
"Love you too," he winked.
Bella cursed under her breath and climbed in herself, flashing me a smile. "He's a piece of trash," she whispered.
"She's just mad I didn't worship her like a queen," Josh muttered as he got into the driver's seat.
The engine purred.
As we pulled off into the night, music buzzing low, Bella and Josh bickered like siblings. I sat there watching them, lips glossy, body wrapped in yellow silk, anxiety twisting in my stomach like a knot.
I'd never been to a party like this.
And something told me… it was going to change everything.
---
Saturday Night, 8:15PM
The second we pulled up, my mouth fell open.
This… this wasn't a house. It was a palace.
Lit up like a hotel, the mansion stood tall with glowing windows, balconies draped in string lights, and music shaking the very ground beneath us. It had columns like a Roman temple and a driveway wide enough to fit a parade. A full valet station stood at the edge with a luxury car lineup that looked like a dealership.
When I said big rich mansion, this is exactly what I meant.
The bass pounded through my chest before I even stepped out of the car. Josh parked without hesitation, windows already vibrating with some heavy rap beat. Bella squealed, already in party mode. I gripped the seatbelt for a second longer, my nerves twisting up like a knot.
We stepped out, and the music grew louder. Much louder. Like scream-to-hear-yourself-louder.
"COME ON!" Josh yelled over the noise, motioning for us to follow him toward the front entrance.
I kept close to Bella as we walked up the stairs and into the house.
"Is this… Alex's house?" I asked, shouting as best I could without sounding like I was dying.
Josh turned back and leaned close. "NOPE! PARTY HOUSE! HE ONLY USES THIS FOR PARTIES!"
I blinked. "He has a whole separate house just for parties?"
Josh just grinned. "YUP. RICH PEOPLE STUFF."
I wasn't sure what shocked me more — the mansion, or the fact that this wasn't even his real home.
The moment we stepped inside, it hit me like a tidal wave.
Lights flashed in all colors, music blasted from every speaker, and bodies swayed everywhere. The living room looked like something out of a dream — a chandelier dripping with crystals above a dance floor full of glitter and chaos. Boys and girls filled every corner, dancing, yelling, some already clearly drunk.
Every girl I passed wore something tight, short, or nearly invisible. Halter tops, sheer mesh, bikini-style dresses — it made Bella's and I outfit look like Sunday service. And next to them, I stuck out like a sore, covered-up thumb.
Bella was right.
A guy with a tray suddenly appeared out of nowhere, offering little cups of glowing liquid.
"SHOTS?" he said, barely audible over the bass.
Josh didn't hesitate. He grabbed one, threw it back, and made a face like he'd just eaten a lemon. "WOO!" he shouted.
Bella took one next. "Bottoms up," she smirked, tossing it back like it was juice.
The guy turned to me, smiling expectantly.
"I'm good," I said quickly, raising both hands. "I'm fine."
I didn't need alcohol. This place already felt like an out-of-body experience.
People bumped into us constantly as we tried to move deeper into the living room. The music shifted to something with more bass, more pulse. I tried not to step on anyone's heels.
Then it happened.
A random hand grabbed mine — rough, unfamiliar. A boy with a wide grin leaned toward me, saying something I couldn't hear. I froze.
Before I could even pull away, Bella smacked his arm hard. "DOES SHE LOOK LIKE A HOOKUP GIRL TO YOU?" she yelled.
He dropped my hand immediately and mumbled something before disappearing into the crowd.
"Ugh," Bella hissed, rolling her eyes. "Creeps everywhere."
Josh leaned in, out of breath from the volume. "I'M SORRY TO LEAVE YOU GUYS," he yelled. "BUT YOU SEE THAT POOLSIDE? YEAH, I'M GOING THERE."
He pointed toward the giant glass doors. Through them, I could see girls in bikinis dancing around a glowing pool. Guys in tank tops, shirtless even, lounged on cabana couches with drinks in hand. A bunch of them looked like Alex's baseball teammates.
Bella gave a thumbs up. "GO, STARBOY."
Josh winked and disappeared into the crowd, practically jogging toward the pool.
I stayed glued to Bella's side after that, barely moving.
Eventually, she started swaying with the beat. "Dance with me, girl!" she shouted, pulling me closer. "C'MON, JUST A LITTLE!"
I let her guide me, trying not to be stiff. My body wasn't used to moving like that in public. The lights flashed, the floor vibrated, sweat clung to the air. For a few moments, I danced — only because Bella made me laugh, twirling and flipping her curls.
But then she leaned close and shouted, "BATHROOM! BE RIGHT BACK!"
Before I could protest, she was already slipping away through the crowd.
And suddenly… I was alone.
The music felt louder now. The colors brighter. Everything more chaotic.
Around me, people danced with abandon, some almost making out in the open. I turned my head and saw a group sitting on a circle of couches playing some game — truth or dare. A guy had just dared a girl to kiss another guy. She didn't hesitate. Laughter erupted. On another couch, someone spun a bottle and groaned dramatically.
Everywhere I looked, it was loud, wild, messy.
And I hated it.
I didn't belong here. I didn't like tight dresses, or flashing lights, or the taste of alcohol, or the way strangers grabbed you like it meant nothing. My heart pounded as I backed away and found an empty armchair near the edge of the room. I sank into it slowly, pulling my knees together, clutching my phone.
This wasn't me.
This wasn't where I wanted to be.
And Bella… she was gone. I didn't know if I was more upset at the party or at myself for saying yes in the first place.
I looked around, hugging my arms gently. And for a second, I wondered if anyone else here had ever felt like this — dressed up like someone they weren't, trying so hard to look like they were having fun.
Because the truth was… I didn't feel like myself at all.
---
ALEXANDER–
Friday Night, 8:40 PM
I was drunk.
Not the falling-over, blackout type—just that warm, loud, reckless kind of drunk that makes everything look a little shinier and a little more fuckable.
Theo was beside me, slouched low with a half-empty cup and eyes glued to every girl that walked by like he was shopping for sex.
"You see that one?" he said, elbowing me like an overexcited dog. "Her ass could end world hunger."
"Pick a struggle," I muttered, sipping whatever was in my cup. "You're drooling."
Then some dude came walking up—quick pace, flushed face, like he'd just won something. I squinted through the haze. "The fuck—"
"Yo, number 20," I shouted into Theo's ear, smirking. "Josh is heading over."
Theo straightened up a little, lips pulling into a grin. "Oh, our new baseball friend himself."
Josh walked up to us, cheeks red, smile wide. He looked like he belonged in some varsity-themed movie.
"Men," he said, clapping Theo's hand and giving me a nod. "Party's lit."
"You bring girls like I told you?" Theo asked, bouncing his brows.
Josh laughed. "Some. You'll see."
Theo leaned in closer. "Well, can't wait to pick one."
I rolled my eyes. "Fucking animals."
Josh turned, pointing toward the living room's glass wall. "Actually—look there."
Our gazes followed—and I locked eyes on a girl sitting alone on a velvet couch, lit by the warm chandelier glow.
She looked pissed. Or maybe just miserable.
Tight dress, legs crossed, posture like she was praying to disappear. Her hair curled perfectly.Yellow dress hugging everything it wasn't supposed to.
Theo made a sound beside me. "Damn. Who's that? She's fucking beautiful."
Josh straightened up immediately. "That's Ava."
"Ava?" Theo blinked. "Who the hell's Ava?"
Josh said, "My best friend. Don't talk about her like that."
Theo cocked his head, confused. "Wait… A lady you are always with? Quiet one?"
Josh nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah. She's cool."
Theo gave a low whistle. "Dude. No offense, but your bestie's got some serious tits."
Josh's smile dropped. "Theo—don't. Don't say shit like that about her."
Theo raised both hands. "Damn, okay. Chill."
I watched the exchange, lips quirking up into something like amusement. "Didn't know you were a white knight, Josh."
"She's not just anyone, alright?" he muttered, clearly annoyed.
I looked back toward the glass wall, eyes trailing to her again.
She stood.
And my drink nearly dropped.
Her back turned—and holy shit. That ass.
Round. Tight. Fucking unfair.
"God damn," I muttered under my breath. I adjusted my pants slightly, feeling the pressure shift. Yep. Hard.
Is that what she hids under her uniform?
Great.
Getting a fucking boner from the her? What's wrong with me?
Theo was still going on about other girls nearby, but I barely heard him. I was trying to ignore the fact that my dick was now fully awake and responding to someone I didn't even like.
"Bro," Theo said, laughing. "You good?"
I shifted in my seat. "Yeah. Just… adjusting."
"Adjusting your dick?"
"Shut the fuck up."
Josh laughed again, but he wasn't paying attention to me. His eyes were on Ava too, like he was watching out for her. Cute.
I looked again—only this time, some guy was talking to her. Grinning, leaning close like he was charming as hell.
It was fucking Noah.
I frowned. "No way."
Theo squinted. "Wait… isn't that Noah?"
"Yup." I took a slow sip. "And he's trying too damn hard."
Josh frowned too. "He's harmless?."
"Harmless my ass. Look at him. He's pulling that I'll listen to all your dreams and then try to finger you by midnight face."
Theo choked on his drink, laughing. "God, you're fucked in the head."
"Yup," I muttered. But my eyes stayed on her.
She smiled at him.
And I swore I felt something twitch again.
I groaned quietly and leaned forward, elbows on knees. What the fuck is happening to me?
Theo and Josh were gone a second later, heading off to the bar to flirt with girls in bikinis.
I stayed back, jaw tight, trying to distract myself, trying not to look again.
Because if I looked… I'd probably get hard all over again.
Over someone I'm supposed to ignore.
----
–AVALINE –
I sat there, quietly sinking into the velvet couch, arms folded tight over my chest as if it'd help cover the parts of me I wished weren't showing. My thighs were glued together, and I kept tugging the edge of Bella's dress down, wishing I had worn literally anything else. The music pounded against the walls like a heartbeat having a panic attack. It was hot. Loud. Flashing lights. People dancing like their lives depended on it.
And all I could think about was going home.
Boys kept glancing my way. Whispering. One even gave me a weird little wink that made me want to vanish into the floor. I turned away quickly, eyes scanning the party like I was searching for a lifeboat.
Through the glass wall near the poolside, I spotted Josh—finally. He was talking to someone, back turned to me, arms moving like he was mid-joke. I couldn't see the faces of the people around him. I just wished he was beside me. Even his chaotic energy was better than sitting here like a lost puppy.
I pulled out my phone and typed "Where are you???" for the fourth time, sending it to Bella. Still no reply.
Ugh.
I muttered under my breath, "I'm going to go look for her…"
Just as I shifted forward, a shadow moved in front of me. I looked up quickly, then down again, instinctively pulling the dress up and wrapping my arms tighter around myself.
"Hey," the guy said, voice easy, smooth. "You enjoying the party?"
I gave a tiny nod, not really meeting his eyes.
He smiled gently. "Mind if I sit?"
I hesitated. Then nodded again.
He sat beside me, not too close, which I appreciated. I still kept my knees tight together, hands in my lap, fidgeting with my fingers.
"I could, uh…grab you a jacket or something," he said after a moment, glancing at my posture. "You seem…not super into the dress."
His words surprised me. But in a good way. No teasing, no sarcasm. Just…a little kindness.
I looked up at him, actually looked, and smiled. "I'm okay. But thanks. Really."
He smiled back. There was something calming about his face—warm brown eyes, soft features. Handsome, sure, but not in an intimidating way. Just…nice. In my head, I thought, Oh. He's cute.
"I'm Noah," he said, leaning a little forward, still keeping space between us. "What's your name?"
I blinked. Bella's rules rang like a warning bell in my head: Don't follow them to a private room. Don't take drinks from strangers. Don't give them your number. She didn't say I couldn't talk to someone. Right?
"I'm Avaline," I said quietly.
His smile widened. "That's a really good name."
I looked down shyly, then up again.
"You're also…uh, really beautiful," he added, almost stuttering. His cheeks turned a little red, and I couldn't help but smile.
"Thank you," I said, cheeks warming.
"Are you…friends with Alex?" he asked after a moment.
I shook my head. "No."
He chuckled. "He's kinda hard to miss."
"We go to the same school," I added. "But we're not friends."
"Ah. So how'd you end up here?" he asked, leaning back on the couch, relaxing a bit.
"My best friend—Josh. He's on the baseball team with Alex," I explained. "There was a game earlier, and I came to support…and then this."
"And your friend just…left you?"
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "No, no. He went off to talk to some teammates by the pool. And Bella—my other best friend—she went to the bathroom like thirty minutes ago."
Noah laughed. "So you're just waiting here?"
"Apparently."
"Well," he smiled, "you're pretty patient.
I nodded.
He laughed again, head tilting back slightly. "You don't really look like the party type."
I laughed, covering my face for a second. "Is it that obvious?"
"You look way too sweet for this kind of scene."
"It's more of…my friends kinda hyped me into it."
"And then ditched you," he said with a light shrug.
I shot him a look. "Don't say that. They probably got caught up in something. I'm not going to hold them back from having fun."
He nodded. "Fair. You're nice."
There was a small silence between us again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Just quiet. For once.
I glanced at him. "So…Alex Worthington is your friend?"
Noah looked up. "Eh. More like our dads are best friends. So we get dragged into the same circles. I've known him for a while—we hang out sometimes. Mostly stuff like this."
I nodded, biting my lip.
He glanced sideways. "You really are too innocent for this place."
I blushed a little and laughed. "I get that."
"Well, you wear it well."
Just as I was about to respond, a figure suddenly slid in beside me, slightly out of breath. Bella.
She looked flushed, hair sticking slightly to her forehead, her expression both guilty and apologetic. "Ava."
I blinked. "Bella?"
"I'm so sorry," she whispered quickly. "I swear I'll explain everything."
Noah looked between us, then gently tapped my arm. I turned toward him.
"This is Bella," I said softly. "My other best friend—the one I told you about. She's like…my best best friend."
Noah held out his hand, polite. "Nice to meet you."
Bella gave a tight nod, clearly unimpressed. "Hi."
I cringed a little and gave him a look. "Sorry. She's just tired."
Noah smiled, then glanced at me again. "Hey…would it be okay if I got your number?"
I froze. Bella was watching me. Her eyes said don't.
I bit the inside of my cheek, turned to Noah, and gave a small apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just…I can't."
He nodded, understanding. "It's okay. Really. No pressure."
"Thank you," I said, truly meaning it. "For staying. I really appreciated it."
He gave one last smile and got up, heading back toward the crowd.
As soon as he was out of sight, I turned sharply to Bella. "You better make some explanation. And not just any one. A big, huge, understandable one."
Bella raised her hands, guilty. "I will. I swear. Can we just find Josh and go outside first? I'll tell you everything once we get home."
I narrowed my eyes. "This better be good."
She nodded like a kid caught red-handed. "It will be."
---
–ALEXANDER–
Still Saturday Night,Later
I kept glancing back.
Fuck.
There she was again—still on the couch, legs crossed, chest out like the damn dress was glued to her skin, but she wasn't owning it. Not like Bella would. Not like half the girls here whose dresses scream "Take me behind the pool house and wreck me."
No. This girl—Avaline—she was trying to shrink inside that dress.
She kept tugging at the neckline, shifting like her skin didn't belong in that fabric. Every movement screamed I don't want to be seen.
She looked so uncomfortable, it was almost funny.
Almost.
That wasn't a dress she picked for herself. I'd bet my car it was her friend who shoved that thing on her. I could hear it in my head—"You're not going to a church!"
I smirked.
Noah Stryker.
God. His dad and mine were best friends since boarding school, so of course, I had to be friends with him, his also cool. We weren't close. Never were. He was just that background dude that always lingered around family parties and had a silver spoon stuck so deep in his throat he probably coughed out Cartier.
And there he was.
Smiling.
At her.
He sat beside her like they were old friends—leaning in, way too close for comfort. His hand hovered like it might go to her thigh, and my teeth clenched before I could stop myself.
She was smiling. Just a little.
But enough.
Enough for my jaw to tighten.
What the fuck is this idiot saying to her?
I groaned and looked away. I needed a fucking distraction. Fast.
But my dick didn't get the memo. It was still very much responding to the mental image of her shifting under that tight dress—hips pouring out of the sides, cleavage threatening to spill out of that V-cut neckline like a goddamn waterfall.
I swore under my breath. "Shit…"
She didn't even try. That was the thing. She wasn't like the others out here, arching their backs and throwing themselves into dudes' laps. She was sitting there trying to disappear—and it still made me hard.
The fuck is wrong with me? I'm really fucked and drunk.
I walked off to the darker side of the hallway, where the music dulled just slightly and the crowd wasn't trying to dry-hump each other against the walls.
Leaning against the wall, I let my head drop back.
Fucking hell.
I'd seen prettier girls. Wilder ones. Girls who threw themselves at me with zero shame, tongues in my ear before I even knew their names.
But one glance at her pulling her dress up like she was naked under it, trying to hide her thighs and tuck her cleavage—And it's funny because I don't even like her. The power of lust.
And I was standing here with a fucking erection.
Because my dick? Oh, he didn't give a shit that she looked scared. Or quiet. Or too pure for this place.
I shook my head, ran a hand through my hair.
"Get your shit together," I muttered to myself.
She wasn't mine. She wasn't anything to me.
So why the fuck did the thought of Noah touching her make my jaw lock?
And why the hell was I still hard?
That's when I heard heels clacking behind me.
"Alex," came that sugary, syrupy voice I used to fall for.
I turned slowly, and of course—Hailey. Blonde hair curled like some damn commercial model, full lips glossed like she was ready to swallow sin. She used to be fun, in a 'ruin your life in five minutes' kind of way. I hooked up with her during one of those boring charity fundraisers our parents threw—too many expensive dresses, too little substance. She was all attitude and lip filler, and yeah, once upon a time, I thought she was hot.
Now?
I raised a brow. "Still lurking around like a puppy waiting for scraps?"
Her laugh was fake. "Still an asshole, I see."
"And you're still begging for my attention. Desperate much?" I smirked, Hailey stepped closer, like she was trying to physically block my line of sight.
"You looked like you needed a distraction," she purred, dragging a finger along my chest.
That made my smirk drop "How are you even here?"
"Mmm. So tense," she whispered, standing on her toes to kiss my jaw. "Want me to help with that?"
I was already half hard. Beaufort had fucked me up without trying, and now Hailey—the certified party whore—was offering herself like a drink I knew was poisoned but tasted like sin.
Fuck it.
I yanked her by the waist and crashed my mouth to hers. It wasn't sweet. Wasn't romantic. It was teeth and tongue and years of knowing exactly how to use each other. She moaned, grinding into me, her hands everywhere. I grabbed a handful of her breast through her top, and she gasped into my mouth like it was foreplay.
She tugged my wrist, pulling me down the hallway . "Come on. You know the guest room near the back? It's always unlocked."
I let her lead. Half of me hated myself. The other half was thinking with my dick.
The room was dark except for the LED strip lights flickering red under the ceiling trim. She shoved the door shut behind us and turned like she owned the place.
"You're still so fucking hot," she whispered, unbuttoning my shirt with messy fingers, kissing down my chest, lips trailing like she was starving.
I sat back on the edge of the bed, chest rising with each breath, already regretting it. But I didn't stop her. Not when she sank to her knees.
And definitely not when she looked up at me with that dirty smile.
A⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✧ ⋅.} ────── ⊰A