A Pretty Drunk Confession.

Sophie’s POV

The party had died down hours ago, but the buzz in my veins refused to fade. Music still thumped faintly from someone’s forgotten speaker in the corner of Ryan’s living room.

Empty bottles and red solo cups littered the coffee table. I was sprawled on his couch in that stupid short black dress I wore just to feel something, legs tucked under me, cheeks flushed from too many shots. Ryan sat beside me, close enough that our thighs touched.

My best friend of eight years. The one person who knew every stupid secret I had.

Except this one.

The one where I had been...