[ six ]

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We were like a couple of kids, stealing glances back and forth as we put our clothes back on. We were on opposite sides of the bed. I fixed my hair as he tossed his shirt onto the bed, not bothering to put it back on.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Mmhmm," I nodded. "You?"

"Yeah," he grinned.

I was halfway between uncomfortable and more than satisfied.

"Let's not make this awkward, okay? We're...adults."

"I know," he bit his bottom lip as he eyed me down. "So what now?"

"I keep my job hopefully," I chuckled.

"You will," he assured. "I won't say a word if you won't."

"I definitely won't. But, uh...I should go." I fidgeted with my keys. "So, tomorrow, yeah?"

"Again?" A smile grew on his face.

I put my hands on my hips with all the sass. "I'm talking about your performance at DJ Khaled's pool party tomorrow."

"Oh," he cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'll see you there. I know it doesn't start until 3 but Dillon wanted to get there early to set up and I'ma just ride with him."

"Cool," I awkwardly nodded. "Okay...well, bye."

What just happened was madness but felt so necessary.

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"This is DJ-frickin-Khaled's pool party and you wore

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"This is DJ-frickin-Khaled's pool party and you wore...sweat-shorts," Elijah cringed.

I was able to invite him to tag along; mainly because he loved to mix and mingle with the rich and famous as much as he could.

"I'm sorry," I kept my voice down as we waited to get in. "I didn't have the time nor energy to go spend another hundred bucks on a pool outfit I'll only wear once. At least my kimono is nice, isn't it?"

"Sure," he forced a smile. "If it matched. What is this, we have navy blue, black, army green, gold on the sandals..."

Elijah's hands didn't know what to do with themselves as he tried to figure out my ensemble.

"It's like I want to help," he continued. "But I can't."

"Don't worry, after a couple drinks, you'll no longer care."

After giving the Bouncer my name and Elijah's, we entered a totally different atmosphere. There were already a plethora of L.A.'s finest, mingling with their expensive-looking beverages with made-up names. I played it safe when we stepped to one of the bars and got a Red Stripe beer. Elijah got his favorite, a piña colada, extra pineapple slice. Fancy white tents lined the large pool with private seating areas.

I looked around for Nate and even Rupp, but I saw no sign of them.

"On second thought," Elijah mumbled as a couple of girls walked past. "You may be mismatching but I see some trash up in here. I've never seen so many horrible ass implants in such a short span of time."

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