Page 63 of People Like Us

“Again,” he breathed against my collarbone.

“You’re mine,” I said, and his lips pressed against the dip of my throat. My fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, as I repeated the words.

“You’re mine. You’re mine. All mine,” I chanted, and I’d never hated myself more.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Are you coming to the after party at Paul’s?” Lindsey asked, turning in the mirror to get a better look of the sparkling violet floor length gown that was clinging to her curves.

“He’s already planning an after party?” I was struggling with the tiny clasp on a pair of silver heels.

“Someone remind me why we spend every Saturday at that loser’s house?” Emily called from the dressing room. She opened the door and stepped out in a bright blue cocktail length.

Paul wasn’t a bad guy. A bit chaotic, and an avid drug user—which I wasn’t sure how he got away with being on the football team— but he was always there if you needed a good laugh.

“Because his parents are never home, and there isn’t shit else to do in Woodland,” Lindsey answered dryly, then her attention fell back to Emily. “You look like a cake topper.”

Emily groaned and retreated to the dressing room. After another moment of struggling I gave up on the clasp and stood to examine the silver silk in the mirror.

“Andy is going to lose it when he sees you in that.” Lindsey gawked.

I frowned. “He still hasn’t asked me.”

“Cut him some slack, boys are dumb.”

I heard a shuttering sound behind me, along with a flash of light. I turned to see Emily with my phone in her hand.

“Send him a photo of your ass in that dress and he’ll be begging you to go with him.” She smirked, handing me the phone.

When she was close enough that Lindsey couldn’t hear her, she whispered, “Or send it to the nerd, maybe he’ll ask you.”

Her new dress was a soft pink that whispered when she walked.

“Em, you are not allowed to try any other dresses on. That color is perfect for you.” Lindsey said.

“You should get that one too.” Emily said back to her.

I sent the photo to Andy. The read notification popped up immediately, but I didn’t get a response. I waited a moment, then backed out of the thread to pull up my text with August.

I sent him the photo too, and he immediately responded with an emoji of a disco ball. I choked on my laughter, and Emily glared at me. Lindsey had already returned to her dressing room to change back into her own clothes.

My phone buzzed with a photo-message from August. It took a moment to load, but when it did I was greeted by the image of him in front of his bathroom mirror, his long fingers wrapped around his hard length over a pair of grey sweatpants. But that wasn’t what held my attention—it was the exposed skin of his chest.

I had never seen him without his shirt on, and I wasn’t expecting his stomach to be so toned. His abs weren’t as defined as Andy’s, but he was still lean in the center with soft curves at his hips. A thin trail of blonde hair heading from his navel disappeared into the elastic waistband.

Remind me to start coming over on laundry day from now on. I typed.

Every Saturday for the rest of my life. He texted back.

Emily pinched my side. I glared up at her, and she had the price tag on the hem of her dress held up. We both frowned at each other.

“Think they have a clearance rack?” I whispered, gathering my own dress to get a look at the tag.

“I pulled these from the clearance rack.” she grimaced.

“I’ll make you something better.” I winked at her, but her features didn’t lift until Lindsey was out of the dressing room.

“Do you guys want to get lunch while we’re in the city?” she asked, completely unaware of our exchange.