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She scoffs. “And what about your…adventures with the sexy society?”
I hesitate, memories flooding back—a tangle of limbs, stolen breaths, lips tracing secrets down my spine. Their heat was like a wildfire, uncontrollable, consuming everything.
“Let’s just say they know how to worship a woman.” A sigh escapes me, a mix of satisfaction and regret. “But it’s over now.”
“Uh-huh, I’m sure.” She gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe me before pointing “Try on that one. It’ll look better.”
I slip into another dress, the fabric clinging in all the right places—but it doesn’t sing to me. Callie’s brows knit together as she rifles through my closet, determined. She pauses, a glimmer of victory in her eyes, and pulls out a dress I’d forgotten about. “This,” she declares, holding up a crimson number that promises sin with every stitch.
“Too much?” My voice is a murmur of doubt, but Callie’s having none of it.
“Perfect amount,” she insists, her tone brooking no argument. “Slip into this, and you’ll forget Levi and his crew even exist.”
Reluctantly, I take the dress and slip into it next. It fits like it’s made for me—like a second skin promising both danger and delight. Callie nods approvingly, her fingers already itching to work their magic on my hair and face.
“Trust me, Brie.” She wields her eyeliner like a weapon, accentuating the mystery in my gaze. Her hands are confident, practiced, as they tease my hair into soft waves that fall carelessly around my shoulders. The transformation is less about the makeup and more about the intent?—
“Damn,” I breathe out, meeting my own smoldering eyes in the mirror. Callie smirks behind me, satisfied with her handiwork.
“Let’s go turn some heads,” she says, the thrill in her voice infectious.
* * *
The air hits us with the bass of music as we step onto the threshold of the sorority house. Beer cans crunch under our heels. Strobe lights cut through the darkness, highlighting our faces.
Callie grabs my hand, pulling me further into the fray. “Ready to dive in?” Callie shouts over the din, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Absolutely.” The word is a vow, a covenant I make with myself.
“We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”
We move inside, and almost the second we do, Sierra pops up, accidentally bumping into me before realizing who I am. “Oh my god, Brielle?” Her eyes damn near pop out of her head. “You look smoking. I love it.”
I grin before stepping aside. “This is my friend, Callie.”
Callie holds her hand out, and Sierra takes it. “A fellow fashion lover, I love to see it.”
Sierra laughs. “Same here. I’m so happy you guys could make it.”
A whirlwind of curls and energy, Sierra’s hand latches onto mine, her grip firm yet inviting. “Come on, you’ll miss it. Beer pong championship’s the main event tonight,” she chirps, leading us through the thrumming bodies.
A guy passes us with a tray of jello shots, and Sierra stops him, handing one each to me and Callie. “You guys are going to love these! The fun doesn’t start until you have one.” It’s clear Sierra has already had more than one.
I hesitate before Callie nudges me. “Don’t think, just enjoy,” she urges.
With a shrug that sheds layers of doubt, I snatch up the crimson shot. A quick toss, and it slides down my throat—cool and sweet with an afterburn of defiance.
The liquid courage settles deep within, igniting a flame. I’m fierce. I’m fire. “Let’s light it up,” I say to Callie and Sierra.
“Let’s do it.” Sierra reaches for my hand, leading me forward to the beer pong tables. It’s a battlefield of red cups and bouncing balls, where glory is measured in gulps and cheers. The air is thick with the tang of perspiration and spilled beer, a heady perfume that dizzies the senses.
“Watch this,” Sierra says, pointing to a duo who aim with the precision of archers at war. They sink one, two—three shots each, followed by a roar from the crowd.
I find myself intrigued.
“Another shot?” Sierra suggests, taking another jello shot off the table and handing it to me. I take it quickly and eagerly throw it to the back of my throat, shaking my head after with a grin on my face.
And then my attention is back on the game. I’m caught up, leaning forward, elbows on the table’s edge. My blood sings with every successful hit, every miss that draws a collective groan. Callie bumps shoulders with me, her eyes shining with the same frenzied light. We’re in it together, feeding off the energy, hungry for the win even if we’re just spectators.
