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Thankfully, tonight’s party won’t be a black-tie event, so a dress like that has no business making an appearance. It will just be an elegant—although chill and relaxed—gathering of friends at Roy’s Bar in Beacon Hill.
Still, it’s a big one for Piper. Her twenty-fifth, to be exact.
Tonight has to be perfect for her, which means I can’t afford to have a meltdown.
I chose one of my favorite dresses to make me feel emboldened and confident tonight—one that I had custom-made, similar to the one worn by Dita Von Teese on the cover of Vogue a few years back. I loved how the figure-hugging, scarlet gown perfectly accentuated her hourglass silhouette. I just had to have one of my own. The dress’s plunging neckline and cascading mermaid hem exude seductive elegance and vintage glamour. Just how I like it.
I place the dress on my bed, pleased with my choice, and head towards the ensuite to blow dry my hair before doing the makeup. But just as I’m about to head back into the bathroom, I hear the doorbell.
Hmm, that’s odd. Wallace didn’t call to announce someone was coming up to see me.
Confused about who could possibly be ringing my bell, I walk over to the living room, only to find someone fiddling with the lock, trying to get into the apartment.
“Who’s there?” I call out, tugging my towel tightly to me.
When no one replies, my hackles rise. I scan over every surface for my phone and find it on the kitchen island, so I pick it up, ready to call nine-one-one.
“Whoever you are, I want you to know that I’m calling the police right now,” I shout in warning.
I watch the door’s knob swing left and right, the assailant apparently not one bit bothered by me calling the cops.
“I got a bat!” I shout, waiting for the emergency professional to answer my call.
“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?” a female voice utters just as the door swings open, coaxing me to let out a toe-curling scream.
“Chill, babe, it’s me! It’s only me,” Cooper hurriedly jokes, uncaring that he put the fear of God in me.
“Damn it, Coop! You scared me!” I shout.
“Miss. Do you need help? Should I send the police to your door?”
“No. I’m so sorry. It was only my boyfriend. False alarm,” I apologize before hanging up.
“Why didn’t you answer me? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, babe. Just not used to using these keys, I guess.” He shrugs, dropping his overnight bag on the floor.
I seal my lips shut, fighting the urge to tell him that if he visited more often, then he’d be used to opening his own front door.
It’s his house, after all—the same one his wealthy parents bought him after graduating high school, in the hopes he would go to Havard instead of NYU. But in true Cooper fashion, he managed to keep the penthouse apartment and move to the Big Apple anyway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask hesitantly, holding my towel close.
“I wouldn’t miss Piper’s big day, now would I?” he coos, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Although I have to say, this wasn’t exactly the welcome home greeting I expected. Don’t I even get a kiss?”
He doesn’t wait for me to reply before pressing his lips on mine.
I close my eyes and try to give in to his kiss, but it doesn’t feel natural to me anymore.
It’s stilted and awkward. As if we’d lost practice.
“When is Piper’s party starting?” he asks after pulling his lips off mine only to start planting wet kisses on my neck.
I used to love it when Coop kissed my neck.
Now though?
Not so much.
