Chapter Sixteen
"What The Actual Fuck"
"I hate men who are afraid
of a woman's strength,"
~ anaïs nin
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"Dress slutty!" Sydelle screamed from the kitchen down the hall while I rummaged through her closet, trying to find a dress for tonight's festivities.
With a dramatic eye roll, I yelled back, "I plan to!"
Her laugh was muffled, but she didn't reply, so I went back to searching for an outfit. I finished work at five, so I ended up training on the second floor until eight, and since I didn't have enough time to go back to my place and get ready, I just came straight to Sydelle's condo.
We were somewhat the same size, but while she had some hips, mine were wider. There was also the slight important fact that I was taller, so any of her short dresses would act as a shirt on my body.
Besides the music playing from the TV in the living room, the apartment was silent, since Sydelle had already gotten ready by the time I arrived. Thankfully, she let me shower—which was why I was standing in her small room with nothing but a towel around my body.
"Yes," I mumbled with relief when I reached for a hanger near the end of the closet. I pulled it out and used my other hand to skim the soft fabric, bringing it closer to me.
It was a dark red, ruched bodycon dress that had a cowl neckline. By the length, I could tell that it would usually end above the knees, but with my height and wider hips, it would likely stop at the middle of my thigh.
With a nod of approval, I brought it to my chest before spinning on my heel, so I was facing Sydelle's double sized bed. Her comforter-pillow set was unsurprising a dark green and cream colour palette.
Laying the dress on the bed, I took the towel off and quickly slipped on the outfit. Since there was a mirror on the other side of the bed, across from me, I could see that my nipples were showing, but I internally shrugged—everyone had nipples. Here's to hoping I wouldn't have to hit anyone because of their perverted comments.
Since I blow dried my hair in the bathroom, I released it from its bun and allowed it to fall down in waves. And for the next ten minutes, I applied my makeup in the bathroom connected to Sydelle's room before finally meeting her in the kitchen.
"Please tell me you just started drinking," I drawled, seeing her hold a shot of tequila while she swayed her hips to the music coming from the TV.
She glanced my way and smirked. "You know I can't lie to you, cous."
"I wish you would." I sauntered to the island, which had the sink facing the living room across from us. Sydelle watched as I sat myself on top of the table before sliding to the counter space opposite of me. "Is Doris meeting us here?"
She nodded before throwing her head back. "No chaser?" I laughed as her expression morphed to a cringe.
"Chasers are for babies," she replied, still smacking her lips together to get rid of the burning taste. "God, it gets worse each time."
"Maybe stop drinking?" I offered, pursing my lips but raising my brows suggestively.
Her eyes narrowed into slits before tilting her chin up stubbornly. "You can't talk. You accept the sober life." Without looking away, she slid the shot glass on the counter she was leaning against.
"If it makes you feel any better, I wish I didn't have to," I smiled sadly, only to watch her straighten her back with a frown. "But don't let me ruin the mood. Drink to your heart's content."
YOU ARE READING
The Devil (BOOK I + II)
Romance[COMPLETED] Three years ago, she ran away from something she doesn't want to go back to, and never looked back. But that doesn't mean she's safe. 21 year old Alina Anthony thinks New York City is safe for her-well, safe enough to not be found. Hidde...
