CHAPTER 1
BELLA
I apply one final coat of gloss to my lips, rubbing them together before pulling back and giving myself a once over in the mirror.
Not bad for someone who was covered in flour an hour ago.
My blonde hair falls in loose, ringlet curls down my back, the top half pulled back into a claw clip to create a messy-bun effect.
My dark, denim wash jeans fit my legs and hug my ass so well they almost look painted on.
And the white lace corset-style top does great things for my almost non-existent boobs.
I reach into my closet and pull out my white cowboy boots, pulling them on to complete the outfit.
The bedroom door opens and Justin steps in, his eyes immediately running the length of my body with that hungry look that heats my blood.
“Wow, babe. You look hot,” he says, prowling toward me.
My cheeks heat as he cups my face and devours my mouth with his, likely ruining the gloss I just applied. “Thank you,” I breathe when he pulls back. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He’s dressed in a crisp white t-shirt that hugs his muscles in all the right places, black jeans and matching white sneakers. The outfit combined with the backwards hat on his head is a stark contrast to the usual suit and tie he wears on a daily basis.
Justin is what I would call boy-next-door kind of handsome. Standing at six-foot-two, he towers over my five-foot-four frame. Dark hair, that is usually styled to perfection, is swept backwards beneath his hat. His brown eyes bore into my soul, keeping me rooted to the spot.
His eyes were one of the main things that drew me to him in the beginning.
One look into the swirling depths and I felt as though I could tell this man anything.
It was surprising. I’ve always struggled with trusting new people.
Growing up in a household like mine, you learned quickly that you could know someone your entire life and still not truly know them.
We’ve been dating for a little over a year and a half now and I’ve lived with him for the past six months.
After Daisy and Liv moved out of the house that we all shared, it went from being warm and full of life, noise and chaos, to cold, empty and quiet.
So, when Justin asked me to move in with him, it was a no brainer.
“Are you ready to go?” Justin asks, his hands resting on my hips as he stands behind me in the mirror.
“Yeah,” I reply, my cheeks still warm under the heat of his stare.
He kisses the top of my head, finally releasing me and moving toward the door. “Good. Taxis on the way.”
Tonight is New Years Eve and we’re spending it with some of Justin’s college friends. I’ve only met a few of them a hand full of times in our relationship and it’s always been in passing, so I’m a little nervous about going to a party where I know absolutely no one.
Usually, I would spend a night like tonight with my friends and family at The Calloway Ranch, but Justin practically begged me to bring in the new year with him this year, so I couldn’t exactly say no.
As much as I’m nervous to be around new people, I’m excited to be ringing in the new year with him for the first time.
“Taxi is here,” Justin calls from the bottom of the stairs and I quickly reapply my lip gloss before tossing it in a clutch with my phone, keys and wallet before following him out the door.
***
How long after midnight is it socially acceptable to take your leave?
If it were up to me, I would have left ten minutes after we arrived at this testosterone filled sausage-fest. The moment we walked in the front door of this oversized, monstrosity of a house, all I could think about was Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
We certainly weren’t in Rosewater Creek anymore.
But Dorothy had one up on me. She could click her pretty red heels and go home. Unfortunately, my plain old cowboy boots don’t have that power.
It’s a shared house, that much is obvious. What is also obvious is that a woman is not one of those tenants. The entire building screams bachelor pad.
I feel like I’ve stepped back in time and into a frat party. And my boyfriend, the one training to take over an entire publishing house, has stepped back in time with it.
I’ve never seen Justin like this. He went from being sophisticated man to hyperactive teenager in ten seconds flat. I’ve never felt more grown-up and out of place as I do right now.
“Shots!” Someone, I think his name was Danny, yells, carrying a tray full of red solo cups above his head. Just as expected, the entire room cheers. And to my absolute horror, so does Justin.
I internally cringe.
What in the alternate universe have I walked into?
“We’re going to play a game. Everyone has to play so don’t try and get out of it,” Another one of the frat-bros declares and I pull out my phone, scrolling through my contact list to see who I can bother at this time of night for a ride home.
A drink is thrust toward me and I look up, coming eye to eye with Justin. I shake my head, holding up a hand. “No thanks. I think I’m just gonna head home.”
His glassy, bloodshot eyes widen, his bottom lip jutting out in a full-blown pout. “Oh, come on, babe. Play along.”
I give him a tight-lipped smile. “This really isn’t my thing, Justin.”
He holds up one finger. “Just one game and then we can leave.”
I search his face for insincerity and when he holds strong, I crumble. “Okay. One game and then I’m going home. With or without you.”
“Deal,” he says, his smile blinding as he leans down and plants a playful kiss on my lips that has me giggling despite myself.
I take the drink he had offered earlier, eyeing the orange liquid that only fills a quarter of the cup and lean back in my chair as everyone gathers around.
“Okay, does everyone have a drink?” The same guy asks, scanning the group before nodding with satisfaction when he see’s everyone is holding a shot.
“The game is Never Have I Ever. I’m sure you all know the rules. ”
Jesus Christ.
The first few rounds are tame considering I’m in a room full of immature drunk men and I learn that Justin once got arrested by campus security for running through the dorms in his underwear. But it’s not long before the questions become sexual.
“Never Have I Ever… slept with someone I shouldn’t have.”
The room is silent as everyone waits for someone to make the first move and take a drink. Multiple hands move to mouths and without even thinking about it, I lift my cup to my lips and take a drink, the liquid burning as I swallow it down.
“Ohh, Mrs Justin is a sly one,” Frat bro number one calls out, pointing directly at me.
“I knew I liked her,” another one says, his attention on Justin.
My face burns with embarrassment as people around the room chortle and crack jokes. I knew I shouldn’t have done that the second the sour drink slid down my throat, but there’s no taking it back now.
The next round continues and I hear something about a threesome, but I can’t focus on anything other than the heat burning into the side of my face. I know Justin is looking at me, probably waiting for some kind of explanation, but I pretend to be occupied with the game playing out around us.
“You’ve got some explaining to do.” It’s a low whisper against my ear and Justins unexpected closeness catches me off guard, causing me to jump.
Keeping my eyes low, I dip my head in acknowledgement while silently praying for this night to be over.