Larissa:I’ll call a cab. Unless you want me to stay?
I texted her back.
Me:I just want to be alone.
Larissa:I’m sorry babe. Call me later ok?
Me:Ok
I tossed the phone aside on my bed.
Then I picked it up and checked it. No messages from Xander.
I tossed it aside again. And fumed.
And maybe pouted a bit.
After a while, though, it occurred to me I was more pissed at Shayla because I was jealous she had the balls to do what she just did, than I was about her actually doing it.
Argghhhh.
I rolled over and buried my face in a pillow. I breathed into it, deep, until it was kinda hard to breathe. Then I rolled back over and stared at the ceiling, willing it not to wobble around so much.
What was going on down there?
Were Shay and my brother making out or something…?
If it was up to her, they would be. For sure.
Or was Cary mad that she’d gotten in there? Used that key?
Would he be mad atme?
I lay there in a total funk. Upset. Confused. Angry.
Jealous.
Then I gathered some liquid courage. Or maybe some who-gives-a-shit-anyway. And peeled off my shirt.
And my bra.
Alcohol really was the devil’s concoction, becausedamn, it made you want to do bad things—and not care about the consequences.
Very bad things.
This was a bad idea, right?
I went to the drawer where I kept my bras and dug through… for the sexiest one I owned. Baby-pink, lacy and skimpy.
I put it on, arranging my boobs in it. I looked in the mirror over the dresser, checking myself out. The cupcake between my breasts sparkled, catching my eye.
I slipped the necklace off, hanging it on the corner of the mirror.
Then I picked up my phone.
I opened the camera app and switched it to selfie mode. I held it out in front of me and tried to center it on my boobs in my pink bra.
I couldn’t see my face… but I could kinda see my nipples through the lace.
