Page 77 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
The room falls quiet. Isaak’s expression hardens, his eyes slide to Octavia in warning. Across from him, Milo’s posture changes, gone is the easy grin, replaced by a look dark and watchful, fixed squarely on Isaak.
The tension is taut, I rise before it can snap.
“Enough,” I say, looking between Octavia and Adelaide. “You agreed to a truce for this trip. Keep your promise.”
Octavia mutters something under her breath that I don’t catch, but Adelaide does, and she sends her a hard look.
Before it can spiral further, Piper rises, closing her book with a soft snap. Her voice is quiet. “We’re going,” she says simply. Then she turns to Octavia. “All of us. That includes Adelaide. You can manage one evening of civility.”
Octavia folds her arms, sulking, but doesn’t argue.
I don’t wait for more. “Let’s go, then,” I say, heading for the stairs. The others fall in behind me.
As we disappear down the corridor, Adelaide’s voice drifts back toward the men. “Stay here. As much as it pains me to admit it, Octavia’s right, men aren’t invited. You’ve already crashed our trip, and I know it’s pointless to ask you to leave my chalet, but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to interfere with our plans.”
I don’t look back, but I can feel the tension radiating behind us.
Once in my room, I head straight for the wardrobe. My fingers skim over hangers until I find what I’m after, a sparkly champagne toned mini dress.
I pull out a pair of black ankle boots and set them neatly beside the bed.
At the vanity, I lay out my makeup bag and start to work, foundation, a touch of blush, winged eyeliner, mascara, a hint of highlighter, and red lipstick.
As for my hair, I undo the braid, letting it fall in soft waves down my back. I take a small section at the front, braid it neatly, and fasten it with my diamond clip.
Once I’m dressed, the fabric shifts and glints as I move. I pull on my heeled boots, shrug a faux fur coat over my shoulders, and take one last look in the mirror.
Satisfied, I reach for a small clutch and slip in the essentials, phone, lipstick, glucose tabs, insulin pen.
I spray a light mist of perfume over my neck and wrists as a final touch.
The door swings open and Octavia steps in, grinning. Her dress is short and pale pink, paired with knee high boots that make her legs look impossibly long.
Her lips are a soft nude, her candy coloured hair falling loose around her shoulders, and somehow it all just works.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, and I mean it.
She smirks. “Don’t go soft on me, Lia. You’ll ruin my reputation.”
My hand tightens instinctively at the nickname, but I let it pass.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We step out into the corridor together, where Piper is already waiting.
Her ginger hair is pulled into a sleek high ponytail, freckles dusted across her nose, her makeup minimal but glowing.
She’s wearing a slate blue dress that complements her colouring perfectly, with matching heeled boots and a tailored faux wool coat.
Adelaide emerges from her room next, closing the door behind her with a click.
Her emerald green dress clings to her figure, her black curls twisted into a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face.
We start down the staircase together, the sound of heels echoing faintly through the open space. I glance between Octavia and Adelaide, both looking like they’d rather kill each other than share oxygen, and sigh.
“If we’re doing this,” I say under my breath, “you two need to promise me you’ll behave. We’re in a foreign country, and I’d rather not explain to the Swiss police why one of you ended up in a snowbank.”
Octavia snorts. “No promises.”
