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“I don’t know,” I said. The words on the menu spun when I tried to read them.
“It’s fine, I know your hangover order,” she said, and dialed the number for room service.
“Hi, yes, we need three of the fried egg and bacon sandwiches, French fries, two biscuits, and two green smoothies . . . Yes . . . Thank you.” I had to fight another round of nausea at the mention of all that food. Hopefully that would change when said food got here.
“I have to get this dress off, Callyn. Be a doll and help me.” Emma turned her back to me, presenting me with the zipper in the back of the dress. My fingers trembled as I tried to grip it and pull it down at the same time.
“Sorry,” I said, my hands slipping on the tiny zipper. I regained my grip and got the zipper down to her waist. Emma pushed the straps off her shoulders and sighed in relief. As far as I could tell, she wasn’t wearing anything under it.
“That’s so much better.” She stood up and shimmied the dress down her hips, leaving it in a sequin puddle on the floor. I couldn’t look as she crossed the room and pulled a thick robe from the back of the bathroom door. Yup, she had been completely naked under the dress. Sure, I’d seen her naked dozens of times before, but it was always weird and I always tried to give her privacy. The alcohol must have lowered her inhibitions, because she wasn’t normally this free with nudity. Neither of us were. Vegas was a whole other place.
Moments later, the room service arrived.
“Hello, my love,” Emma said, sighing happily as she pushed the cart over to the couch. “Don’t you want to take that dress off and get in one of these robes?” She rubbed the material against her cheek. Judging by the state we were currently in, we’d had one hell of a night and she still looked incredible. Sure, she might have a little bit of mascara goop on her eyes, and her hair was a complete and utter disaster, but Emma was gorgeous as hell and always would be.
I went into the bathroom and struggled to dislocate my arm to reach the zipper in the back of my dress before calling out to Emma for help.
“You dork,” she said, coming up behind me and undoing the zipper with little effort. I held the gown to my chest so it didn’t fall. I knew I wasn’t wearing any kind of bra.
“Thanks,” I said, and she handed me a robe. I put it on before sliding the dress off.
“I’ve seen your boobs before,” Emma said. “How many years have we been friends?”
I kicked the dress aside and tied the robe securely, making sure I was covered before I turned around to face her.
“Too many,” I said with a smirk, and she gasped and then hit me in the shoulder.
“Just for that I’m not giving you any of the extra bacon. It’s all mine now.” She rushed to the cart and snatched the plate of bacon, crouching over it like a dragon with a hoard of gold and hissed.
“My bacon,” she said in a deep, demonic voice, that made the hair on the back of my next stand on end.
“Please don’t use that voice. You know it freaks me out.” I joined her on the couch, reaching instead for a plate with the sandwiches on it. I took a tiny bite, willing my stomach to behave itself. After a few small bites, I was a little more confident that I could keep the food down.
Emma was going to town on the bacon and at last held out one strip to me, like it was a fresh-picked rose.
“Callyn, will you accept this bacon?” she said, using a phrase from a popular reality dating show.
“Yes, I will,” I said, completely serious, reaching out to take the bacon and then shoved it in my mouth. It was just the right amount of crispy and chewy. Shit, I loved room service.
Emma moved on to the sandwiches and I figured I needed something green, so I sucked down a smoothie. A beep startled both of us and we went on a quest to find the source of it only to hear additional beeping across the room. Both of our phones were blowing up.
We’d been so wrapped up in dealing with hangovers and getting food into us that we hadn’t gotten to how the hell we’d made it into this room last night (or this morning), how we’d gotten the gowns, and what had happened to lead up to all of that. I’d tried to think, but my brain screamed in protest every time.
“Oh, crap.”
“What’s up?” I said, tearing through the covers on the bed and sending my phone flying to the floor. I dove for it before it could bounce off the carpet and go under the bed. My clumsy thumbs scrolled through my missed messages.
Oh. Ohshit. Most of them were my friends asking where Emma and I were, and they got increasingly more panicked the later it had gotten. Luckily, we were all in a group text together, so I could respond to everyone at once. Just a second before I hit Send, the reply from Emma popped up.
We’re both fine. In a hotel somewhere, will figure everything out and meet you there soon.
I sent my message agreeing with her and a flood of relieved replies came in asking for all the dirty details.
“I don’t remember the details and I’m pretty sure they weren’t dirty,” I said, as Emma went back to the room service cart and devoured more of the food. “Well, except for the glitter. Do you have any idea why I would have had glitter on my downstairs?” I blushed when I said that for some reason. I’d always been weird about that stuff with her. She might be my best friend, but there were lines I just didn’t cross with Emma.
“I think there was something about a kit where you could jazz it up down there and someone dared you to do it, maybe?” Right. A dare. I was a sucker for dares, which had gotten me into much worse trouble than having glitter on my vulva before.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” I had zero recollection of this event.
