Luckyme.
I make my way into the kitchen, dodging a guy in a horse mask and a spilled beer waterfall, only to freeze at the doorway.
A guy is wedged between a girl’s thighs as she sits on the kitchen counter, his hand clamped around her bare thigh like he’s in pain—or like letting go might kill him. His fingers twitch like he’s barely hanging on, face twisted in desperation..
The girl, though? Both hands buried in his hair, gripping tight, dragging him closer with the kind of force usually reserved for bar fights. She yanks his mouth to hers, devouring him like she’s starving and he’s the last meal on Earth.
They’re not kissing. They’re performing an exorcism—with tongue.
I just stand there, blinking, because I’ve heard the termsucking facebefore, but I neverunderstoodit—until now. This? This issuction-level intimacy. They might fuse if they’re not lucky.
“I bet you ten bucks his hand doesn’t make it under her skirt,” a voice drawls beside me—slow, sweet, and drenched in honey-soaked southern charm.
The words roll over me like warm sunlight, and I turn my head—and nearly forget how to breathe.
Because standing there, leaning casually against the fridge with a plastic cup in hand and the confidence of someone who knowsexactlyhow hot she is, is the most beautiful girl I have ever witnessed in my entire fucking life.
Her red hair tumbles in loose waves around her shoulders, catching the flickering kitchen light like it’s trying to set itself on fire. Her curves are the kind that make your hands twitch, soft in all the right places and framed perfectly by a cute jean mini skirt,black worn-in cowboy boots and a crop top that sayspower bottom --good thing I’m a top ain’t it?
But worst of all, her golden hazel eyes are so vibrant I have to look away, even though she is smiling like I’ve already said something funny, despite the fact that I haven’t even opened my mouth yet.
Holy shit.
I take a slow step forward, glancing down before looking back up at her with a lazy grin. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to say that again.”
She cocks her head, one brow raised, lips glossed and twisted in amusement. “Why’s that?”
“Because you caught me off guard,” I say with a low laugh, leaning back against the counter beside the fridge. “I didn’t expect to turn around and see the love of my life.”
Her snort is sharp and unapologetic. “Cuteandcorny?”
I place a hand dramatically over my heart, slumping just a little—just enough to play it cool while my brain is short-circuiting. Because now that I’m closer, I can see every perfect detail: the shimmer of her lip gloss, the dusting of freckles across her nose, the glint of mischief in her eyes. And of course, that smell—sweet and warm, like cinnamon sugar and the inside of a bakery.
“Wait,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “Did you just call me cute?”
She rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitches. “Earlier, I said I bet that guy’s hand wouldn’t make it under her skirt.”
I follow her nod toward the human suction cups still attached at the mouth. The girl’s hands have moved to bunch the guy’s shirt at the collar, and his hand has crept dangerously close to the hem of her skirt—but it’s the other hand that’s interesting. It’s slipped up her side, fingers resting right under her bra strap.
I tilt my head. “He’s not going for under the skirt. He’s going for the boobs.”
“No way,” she says, turning back to me with narrowed eyes.
“Yes way,” I grin. “Watch. His hand's doing the classic slow creep. He’s gonna go for the?—”
She gasps. “Oh my God, heis.”
Right on cue, the guy’s hand slides up her side, inch by inch, until his fingers are boldly cupping her boob. She immediately pushes him back and smacks him firmly across the face.
“What the hell, Brad?” she snaps, wiping her mouth like he’s contaminated her.
Brad—because of course his name is Brad—looks confused, hand still hovering midair like he can’t quite process what just happened.
She hops off the counter, adjusting her skirt with one hand and flipping him off with the other as she storms off, muttering aboutboundariesandoctopus hands.
Once she is out of earshot, I look back at the beautiful mystery girl neck to me and smirk.
“Boom,” I say, like I just won a game show. “Welcome toKiss and Grope 101, hosted by yours truly.”
