Page 99 of Beautiful Sinners

“I was going to say the same about you, but you always look gorgeous.”

She flashes me one of her effervescent smiles that shows off her perfect teeth.

“I’m so glad we could meet up before class. Did you switch phone numbers again? I didn’t realize it was you who texted me, otherwise I’d have been here ten minutes ago.”

Constantine didn’t want me using the phone Andie gave me. There are some understandable trust issues between the guys and my cousin. I didn’t argue.

“It’s no problem,” I reply, thankful for the delay, otherwise, she would’ve shown up at the same time Aleksander did.

I get distracted by the man trying his best to blend in but doing a horrible job at it. I’m pretty sure it’s the guy Cillian sent to keep an eye on her. I’ll add him to the list of things I need to speak with Cillian about.

I hold up my new phone, pretending to show it off when what I’m really doing is taking a picture of the man in the DF hoodie wearing shiny black leather loafers, dark gray suit trousers, and black aviators. I mean, come on. At least try to do a better job of fitting in.

“How are you?” Raquelle asks.

“I’m good. Tired. I foresee another nap in the quad after calc.”

Thin tendrils of steam rise from the small opening on the lid after she sips her drink to test the temperature, apparently finding it too hot because she puts the cup back down. Her head disappears below the table for a second, then she pops back up holding her refillable glass water bottle.

“Fill me in on your trip. All the juicy details, please,” she says, unscrewing the lid.

I don’t like how I’m instantly on alert. I’m pretty certain Raquelle isn’t Society, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. My gut tells me she isn’t. She’s too nice, too chipper, too happy; personality traits the Society sucks right out of you at an early age.

“The Catskills are pretty.”

She flutters her hand at me. “Get to the good stuff. The S-E-X stuff,” she whispers.

I use my straw to absentmindedly stir the ice in my cup, hoping to steady my nerves. “You already know I’m officially deflowered.”

I glance around to make sure no one is watching, including the guy in the hoodie who is now leaning against the outside of the SU and looking at his phone, before pulling down the collar of my shirt and giving her a glimpse of a few of my love bites.

Raquelle’s eyes bug out, and she slaps a hand to her mouth to stop from spewing her water everywhere.

“Holy shit, those look painful.”

“They’re not so bad. I hardly feel them.”

She accepts the napkin I offer and cleans up the spilled water, then reaches across the bistro table, covering my hand with hers.

“Are you good? No regrets?”

My thoughts stray to the first night with Constantine, then to last night, and the burn I can feel growing in my cheeks becomes a full-body flush of arousal.

“I’m more than good. Zero regrets.”

Raquelle’s honey-brown gaze transfixes on me with rapt attention. “Who took it?”

I burst into laughter. “You make it sound like someone broke into my vagina and stole my virginity. And it was Constantine.”

Leaping from her seat, she does an excited shimmy, waving her hands in the air like a lunatic. “I knew it!”

I flap my hands, trying to hush her when we get a few curious looks. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday with the whole ‘burn girl’ thing.

Raquelle sits back down and leans in conspiratorially. “What about the other two? Mr. Handsome Glare and the Greek Adonis?”

I tuck my chin when I feel my face heat a tomato-red.

“So, it’s like that, huh? Good for you. And don’t you dare be embarrassed. You are the envy of every woman on the planet.” Raquelle giggles as she dramatically fans herself. “Three hot men and all those fabulous orgasms.”

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