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“Holy shit.” She whistles, her arms sliding beneath her head, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re actually a fucking demigod. Oh my god—can I even swear around you anymore? Oh no, can I not say O-M-G,” she whispers the last three words as though some unknown power would smite her for saying those words in my presence.
“Well, I still swear like a sailor, and say O-M-G,” I say the letters in a mocking whisper. “And I’m still breathing.” I chuckle at the indignant look she shoots me. She swats my arm playfully.
“Wow, Ollie seriously banged a god. Good for him. I mean, not that I blame her. He’s a total silver fox. I would’ve killed to have seen him in his glory days.” She breathes out a wistful sigh and I huff out a breath of annoyance, swatting her right back.
“You’re seriously going to make me throw up. I told you not to talk about my dad like that.” I fake a gag, moving towards her. She lets out an involuntary squeal in protest, shimming away from me.
“Seriously though, thank you for telling me. You obviously went through a lot of trouble just to let me in.” She rolls her head back to meet my eyes.
“Honestly, you should really thank Adrian. He did all of the research when he saw how much it hurt me to keep the truth from you. You know Adrian, the guy you were a bitch to all afternoon,” I say pointedly, quirking a brow in question.
“Ya, I know. I just gotta make sure he’s good enough for you,” she says on a weary sigh. “That’s my job.” Laughing, she pushes me lightly before raising up onto her elbows. “I’ll tell ya what, I’ll apologize to god boy if you fill me in on this.” She cackles maniacally, whipping out the thong and gift bag. I reach out, snatching them from her hands. Mostly because she lets me.
I sit up on the bed, excitedly peering into the bag. My hand clasps around a piece of buttery soft fabric, bigger than a pair of panties would be. Holding it out in front of me, I find a burgundy cocktail dress—two thin straps at the top, dipping low into a generous ‘V.’ The bottom is asymmetrical, one side swooping lower than the other.
“The man has good taste.” She whistles, admiring the dress alongside me but still searching through the bag at the same time. She plucks a piece of paper from the bag. “I found a love letter,” she swoons before I snatch it from her fingers, careful not to rip it. Eagerly unfolding it, my eyes scan the page.
I can’t wait to see you in this, but fair warning, angel, this dress is an illusion. Meaning I can make it disappear at any time. So wear it with caution.
“Ooh, kinky,” Nelle teases, reading the note over my shoulder. I use the letter to fan my heated cheeks. Reddening from both his words and the fact that Nelle is also reading them.
I jerk in surprise as a knock sounds at the door. “Oh, that must be lover boy, now. I’ll get it,” she shouts, already rushing to the door. Scrambling from the bed and stumbling along behind her, I almost trip in my haste. She already has the door pulled open by the time I make it there.
“Definitely not lover boy,” she chirps, opening the door wider for me to see.
“Kali!” I usher her inside. Her gaze bounces from me to Nelle, shifting her weight anxiously.
“I can—uh—come back if you need some more time,” she offers, looking down at her feet. I open my mouth to wave off her concern when Nelle beats me to it.
“Nonsense, get that cute little ass in here, girl,” Nelle demands, gesturing her inside. Kali’s cheeks flush, and she shuffles forward, a dress bag draped over her shoulder.
“I was able to get this from a helper setting up for tonight,” she lifts up her arm, her hand clutched around the neck of a champagne bottle.
“I think I’m in love,” Nelle whispers, moving towards her. Causing Kali to jerk in surprise, darting a worried glance at me.
“I wouldn’t worry. I’d say it’s a seventy, thirty split.” I continue at her confused stare. “Seventy percent she’s talking to the bottle, thirty percent you.” Her bewildered expression makes me laugh.
“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” Nelle announces, closing the door behind Kali. “Not that I’m complaining, but what exactly are we celebrating?”
“Well, Nelle darling, we couldn’t exactly let you come all this way and not bring you to the bar night tonight. Now, let’s crack that bubbly and get the party started,” I respond, before snatching the bottle out of Nelle’s hands. Her mouth opens in outrage, a curse on her lips. The echoing ‘pop’ of the bottle drowns out her protests as the cork flies from the bottle.
* * *
I swaymy hips to the beat, Up by ‘Cardi B’ playing through my phone speaker.
I tilt my head back, letting the bubbles slide down my throat, and pass the bottle over to Kali—both of us ready for the bar night. She brought the satin cobalt blue dress she bought the day we first met. Styling her red curls up with a jewel-encrusted clip. I decided to straighten my hair, the sleek look complimenting the dress Adrian gifted me.
The dress fits me perfectly, the plunging neckline revealing my ample cleavage. One side of the dress cuts across my upper thigh, the other ending in a point just above my knee, making my legs look even longer. A pair of gold strappy heels accompanies it—exact copies of the ones destroyed by the garden.
“You bitches better not finish all of that,” Nelle warns, her voice echoing off the washroom wall, finishing up with her mascara. Kali giggles, interpreting her warning as a joke. Nope, that definitely was not a joke. She passes the bottle back to me, and I give it to Nelle.
She groans appreciatively at the taste of champagne hitting her tongue. Lowering the bottle, she spins, giving me a full view of her outfit—well, my outfit—to be fair. An emerald-green velvet dress that clings to her body perfectly, and her black hair is curled into loose waves.
“You look, gorgeous darling,” I drawl, air-kissing her on both cheeks, before slapping her on the ass.
“Hey, save that naughty shit for your lover boy,” she calls after me, rushing up to swat me on the ass back. I squeal, covering up with my hands to avoid her revenge slap.
“Which one?” Kali chimes, giggling at my shocked expression.
