𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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"What's your fave sex position?" Mia wonders out loud, in the sauna of the Forbes Palace.
"Why do you keep talking about sex?"
She groans, dropping her head back on the mosaic tile bench. "Because I'm sex deprived!"
"Carter's in the pool, go and have sex with him."
"No. His head is never in it," She whines.
"Oh."
"What's it like sleeping with George—and Albie?" She changes it up a bit.
I scoot away from her, "You're scaring me, please go and get laid."
"Nooo," She laughs. "But like, both George and Albie are so like, exclusive. So many people wonder what they're like in bed. They throw these amazing parties, get seen in Forbes and GQ with a bunch of suits. And you know what both of them are like when they're at their most vulnerable."
I scrunch my nose up, "Loads of people have slept with Albie."
"Okay, but not George. Hardly anyone has slept with George."
Thinking about it, I realise I am quite lucky. I wouldn't say George is a playboy as such but Albie definitely is, the tabloids love using that word for him and Charlie. George is more the type they post about with one-sentence captions or articles about business ventures.
It's rare that they actually post about anything George gets up to. I'm sure they have tons of pictures but they're just too scared to use them in case something happens to them. But over the years, there's been plenty. Girls go mad for him. I would if I were watching him from afar.
They loved the twins in school. Loved me and George together in school as well. Followed us around with their cameras like shadows. I think they've got pictures from a holiday in Lake Como when we were about fifteen/sixteen. My bikini string broke because it got caught on a rock as I climbed out of the ocean. Fell completely off and George had to cover me with his body while he tried to fix it. The paparazzi were surrounding the little island we were on in boats.
"Okay, well, text me when you finally get laid and maybe we can get dinner in the week," I slap her knee lightly and get up.
"Where are you going?" She whines, reaching for me.
"I'm going to find George and then I'm going to fuck him so—"
"Can I watch?" She claps, jumping up.
"Christ no. Ask Astrid, she'll probably let you. Maybe you can film a home movie with her," I wrap my towel around my bikini. Mia bursts out laughing. We're still not over that. It's been just over a week since we got back from Monaco and the pair haven't heard the end of it since.
I leave the little spa area, trying to find something to put on over my swimming costume. There's nothing in the pool room so I go to the laundry room just outside in the hallway. A small room that blends right in with the rest of the white vintage interior.
