I blush, passing up an emerald floor-length dress that caught my eye and running my fingers over a white one, instead. “Well, I want to hold onto him, too. So I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Indeed, it is,” Erin says, squeezing my arm as she passes.
“Gah, why does every dress make my ass look so large?” Jess huffs, dramatically exiting the little dressing room with the curtains flying up behind her. She hangs her hands on her hips, turning around to show us said ass in a tight-fitting and rouched gold dress. “I mean, look at this.”
She grabs both her cheeks and jiggles them to the tune of our laughter, and Ashlei smacks her ass for good measure. “I’d hit that.”
“I’m sure Kade won’t mind your ass being highlighted,” Skyler remarks, arching a brow before making her way into the dressing room next to Jess.
“He might if it busts through the fabric and everyone else gets to see it, too.” Jess mumbles to herself, shaking her head and flinging the curtains back on the dressing room, slipping inside it again.
“How’s that going, anyway?” I ask, taking a seat on the bench outside the row of dressing rooms once I have an arm full of dresses. “How was your first real date?”
Jess pokes her head out, giving me a thoughtful look. “Honestly? It was… surprising.”
“How so?” Ashlei asks, joining us from where she’d been picking out a couple of short numbers from the return rack.
“He was such a gentleman… all dressed up and fancy. Took me to this super nice restaurant. We talked, laughed, shared feelings and things.” She wrinkles her nose. “And, he wouldn’t fuck me at the end of the night.”
Ashlei balks. “What? Why?”
“He said he won’t until the third date.”
Erin barks out a laugh from the dressing room. “I like him.”
“Anyway,” Jess says, disappearing behind the curtain again. “I had a great time. I just also am ready to get these next two dates over with so we can bang again.”
I snort a laugh just as Skyler walks out in a rose gold baby doll dress. Ashlei and I both shake our heads in unison.
“Too innocent,” Ashlei says. “You look like you’re twelve.”
“Aw, I thought the color was pretty,” Skyler says on a pout, twirling and watching herself in the mirror. When she stops, she nods. “But, you’re right. Next!”
“Are you excited for your trip to California on Tuesday, Little?” Erin asks beside her.
“Ugh. I’m dying. I feel like I’ve been staring at the clock since I booked my flight last month.” She sighs. “I just can’t wait to be in Kip’s arms.”
“I bet he can’t wait to be in your pants,” Jess murmurs.
I chuckle. “Honestly, I don’t know how y’all do it. Just being apart from Adam for a couple weeks drove me insane. And we were still on the same campus. Like, if I wanted to see him, I could.” I shake my head. “It’s got to be maddening to have so much distance between you guys.”
“It sucks. A lot,” Sky confesses, emerging again at the same time Erin does. They look at each other and burst out into laughter when they see they’re in the same dress, and then they’re gone again, a wave of curtains floating behind them. “But,” she adds. “This is the way it needs to be for now. I’ve got another year here, and he’s just getting started at his dream school. We can make it work.”
“Do you think you’ll move out to California with him once you graduate?” Lei asks.
Skyler pops her head out of the curtains, frowning. “I hadn’t thought of it… but honestly? Maybe. I could get down with the other coast.”
“Maybe you could go from paddle boarding to surfing,” I suggest.
“What’s going on with that intern, Lei?” Jess asks, coming out in a breathtaking high-low sunshine yellow dress. It highlights her bronze skin and showcases her cleavage with the sweetheart, shell bust, and the flowy layers of the skirt seem to swish and sway with every tiny move she makes.
“Oh, Jess,” I whisper, still gawking. “That is the one.”
“Agreed,” Ashlei says. “You might as well stop looking now. You won’t find better than that. God, you look stunning!”
“Is that a blush I see?” Skyler teases, poking her head out to see what all the fuss is about.
“Shut up.” Jess waves her off, but she can’t hide her glow as she looks herself over in the three-split mirror. “It really is pretty.”
“You’re getting it,” Erin says definitively, and then she steps out in a poofy purple dress that we all go silent at before bursting out into a chorus of laughter.
“Yeah. That ain’t it, sis,” Jess says.
Erin’s shoulders deflate. “I look like a bridesmaid from 1982.”
That earns her another roar of laughter, and when she’s in the dressing room again, Jess and I turn to Lei.
She sighs. “The intern is… fine. I guess. She was great at the Okay, Cool party, and she said she wants to interview me for some project. She really is good at her job, but… there’s something off about her. She’s like a fox. I don’t trust her.” She pauses. “And… I think she might be into me.”
“What do you mean into you?” Jess probes.
“I mean, I think she might have hit on me at the party.”
We all widen our eyes at that.
“I know, I know, it sounds crazy, and maybe it is,” she confesses with her hands up. “I don’t know. I’ll keep y’all posted when I know more, because right now, I’m just confused and jealous.”
“Nothing to be jealous of,” I assure her. “Especially since Brandon told you he loves you.”
I sing the last words, and all the girls chime in with ooh’s and aww’s that have Ashlei flicking us all off.
“I think I’m seeing someone, too.”
We all turn in unison to look at Erin, who’s looking back at us in the mirror as she assesses the long violet dress she’s wearing. She does a little turn, stopping when she’s facing us.
I don’t think a single one of us blinks.
“His name is Gavin. He’s in my therapy group.”
She adds that last part with a little clearing of her throat at the end, and we’re all completely silent for a moment longer before Jess squeals and wraps her in a hug.
“Ex! You sly dog, you. Why haven’t you told us?”
Erin blushes. “I don’t know. I kind of told you when we were sunbathing behind the house.”
“Ah, the friend,” Jess teases.
Erin shoots her a glare. “Well, I wasn’t sure what it was at first but… we’ve gone on a few dates and… I don’t know. I think I like him.”
“You haven’t dated anyone seriously since Landon,” Skyler observes. “Well, other than my boyfriend, but that was a hot mess.”
We all shift a little uncomfortably at that.
“Too soon?” Skyler asks with her arms out.
Erin chuckles. “Yeah, I know… it’s been…” She goes silent for a long time, a shadow passing over her eyes, and the girls and I exchange worried glances.
“You know you can talk to us,” I whisper, standing to touch my Grand Big’s arm. “Whatever it is you’ve been through, we’d understand.”
“I know,” she whispers, tears flooding her eyes. “And I will. Someday. Soon.”
We all nod, and then Lei wraps her in a hug. “Well, I for one am glad this Gavin guy has caught your attention. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“And I can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out so you’ll loosen up a bit in Chapter,” Jess adds.
Erin launches at her, tickling her sides before Jess breaks free and takes off. Erin chases her around the dress shop while we all watch and laugh.
Skyler and I exchange a beaming look, and I know we’re thinking the same thing.
Our sisters are fucking crazy.
But damn, do we love them.
Later that night, after Sunday Chapter, Adam and I walk the beach licking on our respective ice cream cones. Mine is
mint chocolate chip, his is moose tracks. Our hands that aren’t holding our dessert are clasped between us, swinging lightly as we walk.
The stars are non-existent, the clouds wispy, glowing from the moon behind them and adding a moody tone to the beach. It’s quiet but for the waves, and our occasional laughter.
When we finish our cones, Adam pulls me into his arms and kisses me breathless, his warm lips a contrast between the cool sand under my bare feet.
And when we sneak away under the pier to make love, that same fluttering of wings sets my chest afloat.
Everything is perfect.
“SO, YOU TOOK THE lead, pitched the launch event to Mrs. Delure from Bare•ly, and then she asked for you to be the lead event planner on the account?” Sophie asks, leaning on one elbow with stars in her eyes.
We’re in one of the smaller conference rooms at Okay, Cool, finishing up what has been almost an hour of her asking me questions. We’ve covered everything from how I first became interested in event planning to my studies at Palm South University, from my first day of the internship to my duties today. I’ve never been watched with such reverence before, never been asked so much about myself as if I had something to offer that wasn’t just a pretty face and an occasional creative event idea.
Sophie is making me feel special, like my role here actually matters.
And as the hour ticks by, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake about her.
I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly how it went.”
“Wow,” Sophie remarks, sitting back in her chair with a shake of her head. She clicks the top of her pen back and forth, jotting down something in her notebook. “That’s pretty impressive. I mean, I feel like I’ve made strides as an intern, but I can’t imagine being offered the event planner position on an account. I mean, there’s a lot that goes into that.”
“Oh, more than you can even think of or try to list out. I had more than a few times where I was sure I was going to land flat on my ass, but somehow managed to pull the event off by the hair of my teeth.” I smile. “That was the first time I realized that working in event planning is a lot like trying to put out a house fire with nothing but a bucket of water and a handful of prayers.”
“I’m sure you’re selling yourself short,” Sophie says, tapping her pen on my knee. “From what I hear, you’ve been rocking that account since the day they placed the first binder of information in your hands.”
Appreciation settles in her fierce eyes, and those eyes trail the length of me, her tongue wetting her lips a little as they flow over my legs. I’m dressed in a rose gold, silky blouse and my favorite white pencil skirt, complete with hose underneath, and nude stilettos. Sophie nearly matches me in a skirt and blouse of her own, except her skirt is short, her blouse revealing, and where I’m all light and airy this afternoon, she’s all mauve and black, dark and severe, all the way from her black heels to the dark blood shade of her lips.
And the way she just licked them, it looks like she wants to have me for lunch.
The trust she’s built over the last hour fizzles out of me like the bubbles of a champagne bottle, and suspicion cools its place, making my skin prickle.
I clear my throat, gathering up the notes and files I’d brought for her to browse through for the interview. “Alright, does that about do it, then?”
“I think so,” she says, but I don’t miss the disappointment in her voice. “Thank you for taking time out of your day to speak with me. Truly. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. You’ll have to let me see the final product.”
“Absolutely.” She clicks her pen, still watching me as I pack up. “Can I ask you one more question? Off the record.”
“Sure.”
“Are you bisexual?”
I drop the files I’d been about to shove into my bag, sending papers flying around our heels on the floor as I watch her wide-eyed.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, I know that’s forward,” she says hurriedly with a blush. “I just… Well, you see, I’m bisexual. And I guess I just thought I had a knack for sniffing out another bi. My friends and I always joke that I have a radar of sorts.”
She chuckles, and on the surface, she looks pleasant and friendly and like she genuinely is just curious.
But my insides shrivel up in warning.
I swallow, standing and holding my skirt tucked against the back of my thighs as I slowly lower down onto my knees and begin picking up the papers that fell from the file.
Sophie doesn’t move an inch to help me.
She just sits in her chair above me, her crossed knees level with my face.
“I don’t know that that’s work-appropriate conversation,” I murmur, focusing on getting the pages back in place.
“I didn’t mean any offense. Honestly, I don’t think being bisexual is offensive. Do you?”
“No, of course not,” I answer quickly.
“Then, what’s the big deal?”
What is the big deal?
I try to find the answer to that myself but come up empty. What is it about her that sets me off? What is it about her that makes me want to strangle her and be best friends with her all at the same time?
I grind my teeth. “I am.”
“You are what?”
I huff, sitting back on my heels and looking up at her with half of the spilled papers in my hands. “Bi.”
Her lips curl up slowly. “I knew it.”
“But, I’m with Brandon now,” I quickly add.
Sophie chuckles. “And I don’t blame you for shouting it from the rooftops any time you get a chance. Mr. Church is…” She shakes her head, whistling. “Let’s just say I’d let him put it where no man has put it before.”
“Watch it,” I warn, jaw tight.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Sophie quickly adds, and then right in front of my face, she uncrosses her legs, spreading them just wide enough to show me a flash of her black panties before she leans forward and balances her elbows on her knees. Her eyes skate over the features of my face before they meet my gaze. “I’d let you fuck my ass, too. If you wanted.”
A zip of something hot and electric shoots straight down between my legs.
Sophie’s lips part, just barely, enough for her tongue to dart out and wet her lips again as she watches me. From this angle, I can see the mountains of her breasts, the black lace of her bra from where her silk blouse gapes at her neck.
And I’m rendered completely speechless.
Get up.
Get the fuck up and get the fuck out of this room.
But I’m under her spell.
Sophie spreads her legs again, this time lowering one knee to the ground, and then the other, placing one knee between mine. Her leg is warm and smooth as she presses my knees apart, just a little, and she picks up a few stranded sheets of paper as if that’s why she was on the floor.
But her eyes don’t leave mine.
And when she hands them to me, I hold onto them without moving an inch to put them in the folder, and her eyes flick to my lips.
She leans in.
I lean back.
At least, I want to. I should. But maybe I don’t at all. Maybe I sit there completely still, shocked, knowing I should move but not knowing how.
Maybe… I lean in, too.
And in what feels like a stolen breath of time, Sophie kisses me.
I know I feel the kiss.
I know I feel her lips on mine, slightly dry from her lipstick but warm and soft all the same. I know I feel her hands shakily resting on my thighs for balance, and her hot breath on mine, and the silk of her blouse as I hold onto her, too. I know I hear her whimper of a moan, and taste that moan on my tongue.
I know I’m present for every searing moment of it.
But I awake on the other side as if I’d blacked out, as if someone had drugged me, as if I’d been betrayed and violated in the worst possible way.
“No!”
&nbs
p; I shove her backward, sending her flying to her elbows with a shocked curse. I stand as soon as she’s off me, swiping what’s left of the papers off the floor and hastily shoving them into the folders before I shove them into my bag.
“Fuck, Sophie. Fuck. What the hell was that?”
I’m still packing up my shit, and I wait for her to say something. To apologize. To leap up and beg me not to overreact, not to tell, not to freak out or hold it against her. I expect her to blame it on a moment of passion, or a late night, or a connection she felt through the interview.
But when I finally tug my bag onto my shoulder and look down at her, she’s not making any excuse at all.
She’s just lying there on her elbows staring up at me.
With the most wicked smile I’ve ever seen.
I shake my head, frowning at her with a mixture of horror and astonishment whirling inside me. It’s like she’s the devil or a witch or both wrapped into one, and I can’t reconcile the fact that I just fell victim to her spell.
“Stay away from me,” I warn.
And then I run out of the conference room to wash her lipstick off my mouth.
I WAS AN ANXIOUS bundle of nerves the entire flight from Miami to LA.
It had been all I could do just to sit still, to drink the mimosas I’d ordered to help me cope with the fact that I was more nervous than I’d been in recent memory. And now that I’m on the ground in California, tugging my little carry-on luggage behind me in the airport and looking for Kip, I feel equal parts sick and elated.
I haven’t seen Kip since we parted ways after the summer, him coming here to UCLA while I went back to Palm South, and as silly as it seems, I’m nervous.
What if he’s changed?
What if he’s forgotten about me since he’s been here?
What if I’m a burden, if he doesn’t want me here, if he wishes I would have just stayed in Florida?
What if it’s weird between us?
What if we’re not meant to be?
I don’t know when I became this person, the kind who cares and loves someone so much that these are the kind of thoughts that plague me. Gone is the girl I used to be who could bang a stranger on Spring Break and not think twice about them. Gone is the Skyler Thorne who couldn’t be tied down, no matter who tried. And absolutely gone is the version of me who couldn’t be hurt by a breakup.
Ritual: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 5) Page 20
