Page 7 of Lessons in Desire

Flopping down onto my bed, I sigh and feel the energy zap out of me. This week has been intense. I knew it would be, but I never expected to feel so drained.

I hear the door open, and I turn to see Bree walk in in a flurry of pink and gold.

“Um, why are you wearing a dress?” I say but the words are muffled because my face is still pressed flush against the mattress.

“Because we’re going out.” She sing-songs.

“What?” I groan.

“Yep!” She chirps, sitting down at her desk, makeup bag out and ready. “It’s half price night at Beady’s, the bar in town.” She turns in her seat and points her mascara wand at me. “We have to. It’s like college law that you go out on the first weekend.”

I groan harder.

She grins. “Come on, you can have a nice coke, I can down some tequila and we’ll have a dance!”

I smile. “Okay, yea it sounds fun.”

With anyone but Bree, I’d be dreading a night out. It’s not that I don’t like going out, but I don’t drink, and most people take that to mean convince me to drink. It’s exhausting explaining that I don’t want a rum and coke, or a tequila shot. But Bree understands my decision and has never disrespected it.

She knows I don’t want to ever end up like my parents.

“Exactly.” She grins. “So go get in the shower.”

“Yes ma’am.” I salute and head to the showers, excited for my first night out as a college student.

I smooth a hand down my dress, savouring the silky-smooth feel of the material as it follows the swell and dips of my curves. It’s a gift from Bree, made of a material that shimmers and flows like liquid gold, the shade brightening the gold threads in my eyes.

It’s beautiful and I do have to admit that I look fucking hot in it. With black liner and a nude lip, my brown eyes and blonde hair just pop. Bree was beaming as she gifted it to me, wrapped and complete with a bow, a freshly made fake ID nestled amongst the dress ready to get me into this club so I can burn off some steam by dancing.

And boy, am I ready for a distraction. I’ve not stopped thinking of Asher since my class with him. His teasing smile, his deep, drawling voice, his everything just strokes something inside me. My core throbs as I think of him, my pussy pooling with need as if he’s here, stroking me.

I shake my head. This is ridiculous, he’s just a man. A hot, art loving, man, but a man just the same. I push the desire away, forcing it down from a roiling boil to a quiet simmer as Bree walks out one of the stalls.

Her black skin is glowing against the shimmery pink slip that falls down her tall form like water. I send a whistle her way, grinning as she gives me a twirl, her balance wobbling from the tequila she drank before going out.

“You look like a hot Barbie.” I say.

“Right back at you, Ev. I knew that dress would look fire on you.” She slides into the space beside me, coating her lips in pink lip gloss. “You want some?”

I shake my head before resting it on her shoulder. “I missed you, Bree.”

“I missed you too!” She turns, gripping me by the shoulders. Her eyes are lined in brown, the liner smudged to create a smoky effect that makes her black eyes sparkle, a sky blanketed by stars. “Can I ask you something?”

I nod, unsure where this is going.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” I try to pull away, but her hands stay firm. “Ev, you’re practically my sister. I know you’re eating into your savings to keep your dad afloat while you’re here. I can help with that. Let me help.”

I shake my head. “No, Bree. It’s not happening.”

“But why? My parents both love you. They’d be fine with helping out.”

It’s the truth, I know that, but I’m not their daughter. I just couldn’t let them do that for me. I worked nights seven days a week to have the savings to pay my dad’s bills during college. I didn’t do that for no reason.

“I’m fine.” I smile, reassuring her. “I have the savings for a reason.”

“Your dad doesn’t deserve it.”

“Don’t say that.” I snap. “Just because he’s not perfect like your dad doesn’t mean he deserves to be left high and dry by his only daughter.” I pull away, the anger thrumming. I know my dad isn’t the best, but that doesn’t mean he deserves such fucking ridicule.

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