Six

I shouldn’t have been here. I should have gone home when I had the chance.

Bianca’s room smelled like expensive perfume and flowers. I leaned against the wall, half-drunk, the top buttons of my shirt undone.

I had a pounding headache. I needed silence. I needed quiet. I needed her—and her alone.

But instead, Bianca was in front of me, a sultry smile on her lips as she slipped off my jacket. She let it fall to the ground, then began to undo the other buttons of my shirt. Her fingers skimmed down my chest like they belonged there.

They didn’t.

No one’s hands did but hers.

“Relax,” she...