I look to Chase, who smirks at me from across the water.
I, for one, can’t wait to find out.
Chapter 3
Arianna
* * *
“Hurry up, brats! The cab should be here any minute!” Mason yells from the bottom of the stairs.
“Ugh, that man, I swear, he’s wound so tight.” Cam smirks into the mirror. “Think he’ll let me help him out with that?”
“Cameron.” I laugh. “Ew!”
“Oh, chill Virgin Mary.” She hip checks me and leans across the sink to finish her mascara. “And what do you think you’re doing?” She glances at my dress. “Take that horrid thing off, you look like you’re about to hunt Easter eggs, not have a wicked time on the dance floor.”
“It’s not that bad and I can’t wear that piece of scrap you call a dress.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Do you want to have fun? I have to pick and choose my sexy and night one is not the night.”
She pushes her pointed finger in the air, raising one perfectly shaped blonde brow. “Au contraire my flowery friend…” She spins. “Tonight is the perfect night for sexy. It’s time to get tipsy and if that means Mason is forced to face the fact that you do, indeed, have a vagina, then so be it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, not going anywhere near that comment.
“Come on!” Cameron laughs. “We agreed to have fun!”
“We will, but I can’t go balls to the wall the first day.”
“Honey, I speak for your cha-cha when I say that dress has got to go. As in, into the trash.”
I try and keep from laughing, but it’s no use.
Cam and I are still cracking up when Brady begins pounding on my door.
“Yo! You guys sound like you’re having way too much fun. If there’re pillows and panties involved, I want in!” he shouts.
“Fuck off, Brady!” Mason’s yell follows from… who the hell knows where. He’s never too far away.
Brady’s chuckle reaches us. “For real, though, ‘bout ready? Uber’s pulling up!”
“Shit. Yeah, we’re coming!” Cam yells, turning her evil eye on me.
“Ugh! I hate you,” I grumble, tugging my dress over my head and holding my hand out to her. “Give me the damn thing.”
Triumphant smirk in place, Cameron slaps the slinky black number in my palm.
I slip it on, quickly stepping into the black pumps with a gold heel she sets in front of me next.
“Happy?” I cock my hip.
“Ecstatic.” She smirks. “Now, let’s go before your brother barges in.”
My dress is simple but sexy. It’s a halter top that cuts low in the front, snug and slinky down my waist, and loosens at the hips to allow for flirty dancing. My dark brown hair is pulled back in a tight, high ponytail and the smoky eye is in full effect.
I don’t go ‘full makeup’ on a daily basis, but it’s one of my favorite parts about going out.
Snagging a pair of black stud earrings from my bag, I rush into the hall behind Cam, smirking at the view as I take her in.
She’s wearing a deep purple tube top dress that’s tight from her chest down to her ass. She paired it with nude pumps and left her lids bare of shadow, only going with a thick coat of mascara. Her long blonde hair is left down, with big beachy waves. My bestie’s fine.
“Okay, bitch!” She links her arm through mine as we hit the last step of the stairs. “Show time!”
I clasp my earring and hold my head high.
Brady, as usual, is the first to spot us, and his infamous whistle follows.
“Hot damn!” Brady stalks over to us, planting a kiss on our cheeks as he grabs us both by the hands. “Do a little spin for me. Show me whatcha got.”
We laugh but twirl as he asked.
“What do you think, Brady? Do we pass?”
“With flyin’ fuckin’ colors.” He grins. “Come on, shots in the kitchen before we head out.”
“I thought our Uber was here?”
“Had to get your fine asses down here somehow,” he admits as he smacks both our butts.
Mason spins as we enter, instantly frowning.
“What the hell?” he snaps. “I swear you want me to go to jail.”
“Chill.” I laugh, shaking my head. “There will be no handcuffs tonight.”
“I mean,” Cam begins, batting her lashes overdramatically. “Unless you want there to be—”
“Okay.” He throws his hands up. “Whatever. Wear a dress that would fit our first-grade neighbor all you want, but I’m gonna need a double for this shit.”
“I got you, my man.” Brady’s grin grows. He sneaks a glance in my direction, mischief written all over him.
He reaches over, running his hand up and down my arm slowly, stopping to rest it on my hip. He uses his other hand to pour my shot, then brings it up to my lips.
“Open up, Ari baby,” he says in a low gravelly tone.