Gorgeous (Editing)

chapter 3.

There was a party tonight.

That alone meant Jade and I would be there—because Jade didn’t believe in missing anything that involved loud music, cheap alcohol, and the hockey team. I’d heard people talking about it all day, whispers passing through campus like a warning disguised as excitement.

The hockey team would be there.

Which meant everyone would be there.

The school had a strange way of orbiting them, like planets pulled into a gravity they didn’t question. Wherever the team went, people followed. I never understood it. They were just people—flawed, loud, careless people—no more important than anyone else. But crowds liked having something to worship.

Jade loved the chaos. I tolerated it.

We got ready earlier than usual, mostly because Jade hovered until I did. I stood in front of my mirror longer than I wanted to, tugging at fabric, overthinking every choice. Eventually, I settled on a glittering top and ripped blue shorts—something bold enough to pass as confidence.

I snapped a picture for my Snapchat story and immediately regretted it.

A week ago, I’d accepted Dominic’s follow request. After that, he’d added me on Snapchat. I added him back—not because I was interested, but because ignoring him felt childish.

The notification came faster than I expected.

you look hot

I stared at it for a second longer than necessary, then typed back a simple thank you. Polite. Neutral. Safe.

“Let’s go, Alli,” Jade said, already halfway out the door.

The house was unfamiliar, large in the way money makes things feel louder. I noticed photos on the wall as we passed through the hallway—friends, parties, one picture of a dog sitting beside Dominic. The sight of it surprised me.

He had a dog.

“Hello, love.”

I turned.

Dominic stood behind me, casual, confident, like he’d been waiting. His presence filled the space too easily.

“Hi,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

“Didn’t know it was Oliver’s birthday party?” he asked.

I nodded. Jade had bought a gift—mostly alcohol. I’d offered to chip in, but she waved me off, told me to just write the card.

Before Dominic could say anything else, a woman burst into the room wearing a firefighter costume.

“Who’s the birthday boy?”

The room erupted. Oliver was pushed toward a chair amid cheers and laughter. I watched as the woman danced, grinding against him while the crowd encouraged it like a sport.

Dominic stood close behind me. Too close.

“I’m better than that stripper,” I murmured near his ear, not entirely sure why I said it.

He bit his lip.

“Don’t tease me, Allison,” he said, his voice lower now.

I turned, meeting his eyes. “Who said anything about teasing?”

I kissed his cheek—brief, controlled—and stepped away before the moment could become something else.

An hour later, alcohol softened the edges of everything. The music felt louder, the lights warmer. I noticed Dominic watching me from the bar, his gaze steady, unreadable.

I walked over.

“Dance with me,” I said. It sounded more like a demand than a question.

He hesitated.

“Please?” I added.

That did it.

He took my hand, and we moved together into the crowd. I pressed back just slightly, enough to feel him react. He put distance between us, which surprised me. I turned, wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, met his eyes.

They were green-grey, intense, searching.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing my ear.

I nodded—and kissed him first.

His hands found my hips, firm but not rough. I let the kiss deepen, then pulled away before it could swallow me whole.

I touched his cheek once, softly, and walked away.

I didn’t kiss people randomly. Not really.

But kissing Dominic felt different. Dangerous in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted to explore.

I lost myself in the music again, dancing alone this time—until I felt someone behind me. Hands on my hips. Too familiar.

“Hello, hotstuff.”

The voice made my blood turn cold.

“Moving your body like that,” he continued, breath at my ear, “like the little slut you’ve always been.”

I froze.

I knew that voice.

And suddenly, the room felt too small.