[BOOK2]
Friendship built their world. Love will break it open. ❤️
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I swear to all that's holy," Becca starts, her voice low with barely-contained annoyance, "If I see Peyton, I will slap the hell out of her."
I let out a nervous laugh, because I know Rebecca Mae Chen. And that? That was not a joke.
"Easy there, tiger," I say, my eyes scanning the racks of Zara for the perfect dress for the upcoming gala. My fingers graze over fabric, but nothing feels right. Not yet.
She strides ahead, yanking dresses off the rack with a little more force than necessary, her frustration practically radiating off her.
"No, seriously. The nerve of that girl. What was even the point of that whole conversation?"
"Easy, Becs," I murmur, trying to defuse the tension while I keep looking. "You do realize she's still in our study group, right?"
I remind her, but mostly, I remind myself. Because dealing with Peyton and her drama is way less appealing than picking the perfect dress.
"I don't care," she snaps be back to the present, holding up a dress that might've looked good on someone else but would probably make a whale out of me. "She's toxic, and I'm done with her shit. Honestly, I don't know how you even tolerate her in the same room."
I roll my eyes, trying to steer her away from that particular rabbit hole. "Because unlike you, I'm not out here slapping people in public places," I tease, glancing up at her with a smile.
"Yet," she mutters under her breath, but I catch the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Before I can let out a laugh, I'm distracted by the sight of a dress that catches my eye—a black sequined number, sleek and understated but undeniably glamorous. I walk toward it, fingers grazing the fabric.
"Tell me this is the one," I murmur, holding it up to my body in front of the mirror.
Becca doesn't even need to say anything; the way her eyes light up tells me all I need to know.
"That is definitely the one," she agrees, tossing a few other dresses aside to make space in my arms.
"Alright," I breathe, taking the dress to the fitting room.
I feel the weight of the evening ahead of me settling in. The gala. Theo. Everything that's building between us. I can't stop thinking about him—his touch, the way he's never once hesitated when it comes to me.
And the idea of showing up at the gala with him by my side... well, it has me feeling a mix of nerves and excitement I can't quite explain.
The dress fits perfectly, hugging me in all the right places, and when I walk out of the fitting room, Becca gives me a grin that says it all.
"You're going to look incredible in that," she says, her voice soft with approval.
