Page 11 of Play It Sinful

I kept my décor simple because I want to display my art on the walls as I create it. My duvet is my favorite color—teal—and I have a few fluffy pillows on my bed, and a fuzzy white blanket Kenzie got for me in London.

Kadence and Scarlett, two freshmen I met at the Arts Program mixer yesterday, are sitting on my bed, chatting about all the hot guys they’ve met so far while I get ready for a party hosted by one of the said hot guys. R something, I already forgot this name.

“Your pink hair turned out so good,” Kadence says for the second time tonight.

I chuckle. “You said that already, but thanks.”

“It complements your dress, which I love, by the way. You have such good taste, Ash,” Scarlett adds.

“Thanks. I’ve had it for years. The dress, I mean, not the good taste.”

Especially when it comes to guys.

They laugh, and then Kadence asks, “Are you saying you don’t have good taste?”

I shake my head, not willing to get into what prompted my comment. “Never mind.”

I have the worst luck with guys, but whenever I’ve said that in the past, it motivated my friends to prove me wrong by setting me up with randoms. All the guys I dated in high school were either assholes, losers, or both. I refrained from dating any of the guys on the football team, and that’s why I was good friends with some of them. Maybe I should have broken my rule and tried dating them, instead of going for the artsy types. Oh well. At least some of my boyfriends didn’t suck in bed.

The dress Scarlett is so enamored of is a snug, deep blue velvet with long sleeves and an open back. It’s one of the sexiest dresses I own. It might be overkill to dress up for a college party, but tonight I want to feel pretty. My enthusiasm has taken a hit since I found out Sean was here. Now I know Kenzie and Mom had no idea, only Chris knew, and he didn’t say anything because Sean asked him not to. It was a low blow from Sean, but I wasn’t surprised. Once an asshole, always an asshole.

“God, I don’t fit in any of my old clothes. I gained so much weight in my senior year. I’m a stress eater.” Kadence eats another potato chip.

“You’d better see a therapist for that, then. Hannaford U is hard core,” Scarlett replies.

“It’s okay. I’m not complaining about my current size. I never had any boobs before, but look at the size of these melons now!” She squishes her boobs together, making me laugh.

“I think you look stunning,” I add.

“You’re sweet, but I agree.” She winks at me.

I grab a leather jacket from my tiny closet and put it on. “Remind me again who’s hosting this party?”

“Ryder Westwood. He’s like a god on campus. Comes from an uber-rich family. My father works for his dad’s company. Oh, and he plays hockey.”

My stomach drops. Fuck me. If a guy on the hockey team is throwing this party, then surely Sean will be there. After I told him to stay far away from me, how am I going to show my face at a party on his turf?

Hell. There’s nothing for it. I won’t let him mess with my social life on top of everything he’s done to me already. This won’t be the last event on campus where he’ll be around. I’ll have to get used to seeing his stupid face.

“Okay. I’m ready,” I announce.

“Hold on. Let’s have drinks first.” Scarlett pulls a small flask from her jacket.

“What do you have there?” I ask.

“Tequila, obviously.” She unscrews the top and takes a big gulp.

Kadence drinks next and then passes the flask to me. I’m not used to drinking tequila straight, but there’s a first time for everything. I expect the drink to burn my throat, but it’s surprisingly smooth. I take two big gulps instead of one.

“Damn. Someone is ready to party,” Scarlett pipes up.

The tequila works quickly, melting some of my tension. I smile from ear to ear. “You betcha.”

The party is being held in an old church that was converted into a trendy club. It’s ten minutes from campus. Only someone with deep pockets would be able to afford renting the place to host a party there. At the entrance, Kadence needs to show a QR code to a mean-looking bouncer.

“Wow, this isn’t an ordinary college party, is it?” I ask.

“Apparently not,” Scarlett replies.

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