Chapter 6
Chapter Six
It’s no surprise to anyone that my parents love to host a party. New Year’s Eve is no exception, especially because Mom believes hosting practically guarantees all three of her children will be in attendance.
Turns out: she’s right.
As much as I’ve been itching to get back to my apartment, where I have my own space and can breathe a little easier without having to worry about Mom, and now Dad as well, talk up Michigan.
It’s exhausting having to pretend to be excited as Taylor discusses their plans for when Landon and she are back in town permanently.
I haven’t seen Harlow since gayme night.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t keep checking SapphicSingles to see if she’s messaged.
I’ve gotten a couple new matches the past couple days and have exchanged some brief messages.
Yet when it comes time to meet up, I’ve hesitated.
I’m not hung up on Harlow or anything, but …
I don’t know. Knowing the woman responsible for the hottest sex of my life is in this very town has me not wanting to settle for anything less.
If I’m going to sleep with someone while I’m in Blue Skies, I want it to be her.
Harlow hasn’t messaged me though. And I know I won’t see her tonight.
Carlos and Brandon are throwing their own party, and I was tempted to go when Em invited me, but I wanted to be with my family—as annoying as they are—on my last night in town.
So, I can kiss the chance at ending my little holiday with a bang goodbye.
“Oh, my god! These lobster mac and cheese bites are hitting the spot!” Taylor plops down on the couch next to me with a borderline inappropriate moan.
“Ew,” I say. “Also, give me one.”
I reach for one of the three bites on her little firework-themed plate, and she slaps my hand.
“Ouch!” I clutch my palm to my chest.
“Don’t you dare steal food from a pregnant woman. Have you lost your damn mind?” Taylor gapes before seemingly shaking off her disbelief at my audacity and resumes eating.
I chuckle while nursing the lingering sting. “Okay, you’re right. I should have thought that one through.”
She nods in exasperated agreement.
“How’re you feeling, by the way?” I ask. “Still super nauseous?”
She groans. “Yes, I hate it. Everything I’m reading says it should go away soon, but we’ll see.”
The party is in full swing with all my parents’ friends in attendance.
There are about twenty people mingling indoors as music plays softly in the background.
Dad has five commercial patio heaters, like the ones they use at restaurants, set up outside on the deck.
So there’s another chunk of people drinking and smoking cigars out there.
Our flat screen is currently muted with subtitles playing Times Square.
Landon spots us and brightens. He wiggles his empty Michelob Ultra bottle. “Hey, babe, I’m grabbing another. You need anything?”
“Yes!” She holds up her plate. “About a hundred more of those lobster mac and cheese bites, please.”
He laughs and dutifully returns with a full plate. Taylor holds up her phone to him. “Do you know a Mikayla?”
My blood turns cold, but there’s no way. Mikayla is a common name, there’s no chance she’s referring to her.
“She requested to follow me on Instagram,” Taylor explains as Landon leans in and squints.
“Oh yeah, she’s our neighbor,” he says. “Well, I guess, she was our neighbor now that my parents are selling the Winston house.”
My breathing is shallow, and I dread what I know is coming a second before it happens.
“She used to be best friends with Lily when we were growing up,” Landon says and takes a swig from his beer.
“Oh.” Taylor turns to me. She lifts one eyebrow in question. “Used to?”
My ears roar, drowning out the sound of the room’s music and conversation. Taylor looks at me expectantly. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them off on my knees.
“What happened?” Taylor asks, her face softening into concern. “Are you okay?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I mumble. “It was a long time ago.”
It was. So why does it still hurt this much?
Mikayla Scott and I were born three weeks apart. As next-door neighbors with parents who were best friends, we were inseparable. We did everything together. She was my favorite person.
Until Gabrielle Rodriguez moved to our street the summer before seventh grade.
Gabby had a strong personality from the very beginning. Bold, funny, and thrived under the spotlight. There weren’t many kids in our neighborhood, so Mikayla and I invited her to hang out with us—a massive mistake. I called it from the very beginning, but nobody believed me.
Lucy called me immature. Landon called me paranoid.
Dad said I was overreacting. Mom thought I was jealous and needed to learn how to share—that it was okay for Mikayla to have two best friends.
Only that never would’ve been good enough for Gabby.
She was always trying to weasel her way in between us. She wanted to replace me.
I hate that I gave her the very thing to do it.
“Lily?” Taylor prompts, and it sounds like not for the first time. “Are you okay?”
I shake off her gentle touch to my shoulder and glance down at my cup. “I need a refill.”
“Landon can get it—”
“I’m already up.” I slip away before she can say anything else. Setting the cup down on the kitchen counter, I bundle my hair into my hand and fan myself. My skin is hot and clammy, and it’s a little hard to breathe.
One of my dad’s friends finishes mixing his drink and offers me the whiskey bottle. I take it gratefully. I pour myself a shot, throw it back, then pour a second.
“Damn, I didn’t know this was that kind of party,” a soft, lilting voice says.
A short brunette with a sly grin stands at my side.
Beth something, one of my sister’s friends from work, the principal of a nearby high school.
I’ve only met her two times before, but I’ve noticed the way her eyes linger on my body and how often she finds excuses to talk to me.
While I find her attractive, I don’t want to make things messy for Lucy—mostly because if she was to so much as catch me flirting with Beth, her brain might explode.
But with my mind reeling from thinking about Mikayla and Gabby and how painfully horny I’ve been all week, I find myself caring less and less about how Lucy might feel about this. Beth and I are both grown women. Things don’t have to be messy.
“It’s that kind of party now.” I flash her my most charming smile and pour her a shot of her own. I offer it to her with a suggestive raise of my eyebrow.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” she purrs while taking the glass, her finger grazing mine. “To a happy new year?”
“To a happy new year.” I clink my glass to hers and down the shot. The whiskey burns my throat, and I cover my mouth with my fist.
“How long are you in town for?” she asks.
“I leave tomorrow afternoon.”
She edges her hand closer to where mine rests on top of the onyx countertop. Her fingers slip into the spaces between mine, and she looks up at me from under her long eyelashes. “Guess that means you should make tonight count.”
Movement across the room catches my eye, and I startle at the appearance of Harlow. She looks amazing in a black button-down with a dark vest and slacks. Mom pulls her into a hug and says loud enough I can hear her from across the room, “I’m so glad you could make it!”
What is Harlow doing here? My heart races, and I stand a little taller.
“Do you want one?” Beth asks as she reaches for a champagne bottle and flute.
“Sure,” I say and make myself focus on her. It doesn’t matter that Harlow is here. She doesn’t want to hook up again, and neither one of us is looking for a relationship. We can be friendly, but if she’s not going to take care of this ache between my thighs, I might as well find someone who will.
“Are you enjoying your winter break?” I ask, discreetly searching for Harlow out of the corner of my eye, but not finding her.
“I am.” She leans in closer to me, her fingers stroking along my forearm, sending chills up my spine. “And it’s getting better by the second.”
I smirk. “Would you want to get out of here?”
“I’d love that,” she says. “Give me one second, and we can head to my place?”
After I nod, she excuses herself with the promise she’ll be right back. I reach for the whiskey, my gaze scanning the room.
“She seems nice,” a husky voice says, making me jump two feet in the air.
“Shit, Harlow.” I clutch my chest. “What’re you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
She doesn’t say anything, her face serious as she stares straight ahead.
“I thought you’d be at Carlos and Brandon’s party,” I say.
“I’m going there in a minute. Your mom needed me to stop by to meet someone for work.”
That makes sense. Still, the words make me deflate. There was a tiny part of me that hoped she was here because she changed her mind about having a repeat of the other night. But, of course, she’s only here because of my mom. My presence is irrelevant.
“You ready to go?” Beth asks sweetly as she rests her hand on the small of my back.
“Yes. Yeah.” I swallow, acutely aware of Harlow’s proximity. Beth smiles, and there’s a twist in my stomach. I discreetly pull away from her touch. “Actually, sorry, can I use the bathroom real quick?”
“Of course, I’ll be waiting for you here.”
I nod and mentally prepare myself as I turn toward Harlow. Only … she’s not there. I swivel my head around and don’t see her anywhere. My heart drops, but it’s for the best.
While washing my hands, there’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“One second,” I call.
Another, louder knock comes.
“Seriously?” I scowl at the locked door before yanking it open.
Ready to tell whoever this impatient asshole is, I’ll be another second, but the words die in my throat.
Harlow is standing there. Her eyes narrowed, lips pulled down in a frown, and there’s this cute little annoyed crinkle in her forehead.
“Bathroom emergency?” I ask wryly.
Harlow checks down the hall, then shoves her way into the bathroom.
She whirls me around, pinning me to the wall.
Her mouth smashes against mine in a hungry kiss.
I still under her touch, frozen by shock, until my body reacts faster than my brain.
I match her intensity and pull her body tighter against mine.
Harlow’s hands clutch my face. I lift my leg, wrapping it around her waist. Her hand trails down, palming my breast, before grabbing ahold of my thigh.
She presses her body into my center, and it rips a loud moan from my throat.
“Shh,” she whispers with a sexy little smirk. “Unless you want all your parents’ friends to know what you’re doing in here.”
“What—Fuck, Harlow,” I rasp. “What’re you … I thought you didn’t want to hook up again?”
“Do you want to talk or do you want to—” She sucks on my throat, and I groan.
“That. Definitely that.” I roll my hips into her.
“Can you be quiet?” she asks.
“Y-yes.” My hands roam over her chest. My fingers find one of her nipples and squeeze. She groans, her eyelids fluttering shut. She palms my ass and takes my mouth in a hungry kiss. My core is on fire.
“I need to feel you inside me,” I say. “Please, Harlow.”
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” She shifts back to make space between our bodies for her fingers. Hiking my dress up above my hips, she deftly slides my panties to the side and sinks a finger into my wet heat. I gasp, then moan, and she covers my mouth with her free hand.
“You have to be quiet,” she says in a voice that demands obedience.
I nod, squeezing my lips together as Harlow pulls out to rub tight circles against my clit. Wrapping one arm around her back, I grip her shoulder and brace myself against her as my legs shake.
“You are so fucking wet,” Harlow whispers. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”
She pinches my clit, and I whine. I have to bury my face in her throat to muffle the sounds.
“Is this what you thought about?” She plunges two fingers back inside me. “When you touched yourself?”
“Y-yes,” I gasp.
Harlow groans against my ear, the sound sending its own wave of pleasures down my spine. My thighs are quivering, my core tightens as my orgasm builds fast and hard.
“Don’t … stop.” I bite down on her shoulder.
She angles herself lower to thrust deeper inside me, and that does it. I’m tumbling over the edge. My lips part in a silent scream as my orgasm rocks through me.
I’m panting and boneless, if Harlow wasn’t holding me up, I’d collapse to the tile floor.
Slowly, she eases out of me and presses her fingers, soaked with my arousal, to my lips.
I take them in my mouth, meeting her eye, as I clean her fingers, sucking and swirling my tongue along the length of them.
Her gaze is desperate and full of pure sex as she watches the little show I put on for her.
She curses and pulls her hand away to kiss me. Her tongue sweeps inside my mouth, to taste me on my lips. I grip her by the back of her neck and suck on her bottom lip. After a long, heated kiss, she reluctantly pulls back.
“Come on,” she says. “I don’t like it when you’re quiet. You make the hottest fucking sounds, and I want to hear you scream before you leave tomorrow.”