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My lips part to argue, but I quickly find I have nothing to say because I agree, I don’t want anyone at the party touching me with a barge pole either.
“Exactly,” she says with a smile.
“Okay, fine. Maybe not tonight, but we will find you a guy.”
“Not that I don’t agree, but any chance you could open those?” Stella asks, nodding toward the two presents sitting in mine and Calli’s laps as she bounces on the balls of her feet.
“Yeah, sorry.”
We both rip into the paper to discover a fancy black wooden box inside.
“What have you done, Stel?” Calli asks, getting suspicious.
“Just something I think every princess needs.”
My eyes roll but open the box.
“Oh my God, Stella,” I squeal looking down at a brand new, gleaming, black knife.
“Stella,” Calli also squeals, staring down at her new accessory. “It’s fucking purple.”
Stella lifts one shoulder, an accomplished grin pulling at her lips. “You like them?”
“I love it. Thank you so much.”
“Just promise me something,” she says, a little too seriously for my liking.
“Hmm…”
“Don’t use it to kill Theo. She says the words so seriously it almost makes me laugh—until I imagine holding it up against his throat and for once, experience him being on the losing team. That makes my mouth water. My fingers pluck the heavy weapon from the box and wrap them around the handle, imagining how it might feel to threaten him. To make him bleed.
"I’ll promise not to kill him. Can’t promise anything else.”
“You can hardly talk, Stel. We know all about your kinky knife shit,” Calli pipes up, twisting her knife this way and that, watching it reflect the spotlights from above.
“Meh, have all the fun you want. I’m sure Emmie’s hot daddy will tidy up the mess later.” She flashes us her inner thigh that’s more than exposed in her short dress as a shadow falls over the room from the doorway.
“Still lusting over a man you can’t have, baby?” Seb’s deep voice booms through the room.
“He wouldn’t want me with your initials on my thigh.”
“That was the point,” he states, holding her stare.
The chemistry between them, even across the room, is burning fucking hot, and it only serves to remind me just how long it’s been since I’ve been with a guy. I think of my most recent ex. He certainly knew how to make me scream.
As much as I might like to claim that my vibrator collection is all I need, I can admit—especially when I’m halfway to being drunk—that sometimes you just need a sweaty roll around the sheets with a halfway talented guy.
My temperature spikes as I watch them both eye fuck each other, and a real screwed-up part of my brain kinda wishes they’d just go for it—wouldn’t be the first time in our company. Surely a little live porn is better than nothing at all. Right?
Realising that I’m imagining my best friend screwing her fella, I shake my head, forcing the thoughts from my mind.
I should go back home, find Archer and make use of everything I know he can give me.
Maybe I could sneak out of this damn party and…
“Emmie,” Stella shouts, dragging me from my own head, and when I look up, I find her waving at me.
“Sorry. I’m here.”
