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Chapter 3
Sammi
10:18 AM SATURDAY
I leave the smirking Aussie beefcake out by the pool and rush to the bathroom with damage control on my mind.
Percy’s screams reach me with all the appeal of an ice pick through the brain.
“They’rePINK,” she continues. “They’re all pink! Oh god, myPUBES!”
“Okay!” I shout back, my head throbbing from the act. “I’m coming!”
I start to make my way towards the sound of her cries, stumbling every so often over the copious wreckage littering the floor.
By the time I make my way to the main room, I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of the damage.
What the fuck?
The room is fucking trashed.
There are empty bottles and canseverywhere.Bedding that is definitely not from this room is strewn across the furniture along with food containers and trash.
I can’t even begin to imagine what we got up to last night. I don’t know what I even did—apart from, apparently, Lock Williams.
It doesn’t help that every time I try to remember, the throbbing ache in my brain stops my thoughts in their tracks. The taste of tequila is bitter in the back of my mouth. Tastes fucking bad. Really,reallybad.
I burst into the bathroom riding a wave of nausea and regret.
And there’s Percy, bare-ass naked and handcuffed to the bidet.
The first time I met Percy, we were at the same house party, unknowingly making out with the same guy all night. Instead of getting mad at each other about it, we just dumped our drinks on the asshole’s misshapen potato head and got Taco Bell together instead.
We roomed together for a lot of college. I taught Percy how to binge drink and Percy taught me how to wax my muff.
As it turns out, a good wax might be the only thing that will help Percy’s pube situation now.
“Percy,” I say, taking it all in. “Babe. What the fuck?”
She’s laid out naked on the floor, her voluptuous body on full display. Her arms are raised above her head, and I follow them to find that her wrists are clasped firmly into the silver bracelets of a pair of handcuffs.
How the fuck?
And she’s right—her pubesarepink. In fact, everything, and I meaneverything, is pink, from the hair on her head to the lady-beard between her legs. Even her armpits threaten to blind me with their unnatural, neon glow.
“Do I even want to know?” I say, still at a fucking loss.
“I was just asking myself the same thing,” she whimpers, shaking her wrists for emphasis, rattling the metal and bringing my focus back to the more pressing issue at hand. “The handcuffs though, Sams? Please?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Usually you can get yourself out of those.”
Percy’s shoulders slump tiredly. “Too tight this time. I’m losing my touch!”
I take a deep breath. “Sure. Right. Hang on.”
I lean over her to closer inspect the handcuffs. Lucky for her, they’re your run-of-the-mill sex shop cuffs. Nothing too tricky.
I’m about to ask if she’s seen the key when I hear a snort from behind me.
