Best Served Fake

twenty // you shameless hussy

"No."

Isabelle crossed her arms over a chest that was almost completely on display, bare golden skin exposed to the dying rays of sunset spilling through the window, and lit with a soft glow by the lamp beside my bed. Izzy's low-cut red dress would've been elegant on any other girl, but with her mile-long legs, it was practically sinful. There was a small exposed diamond cut between the swell of her breast and the slight concave of her stomach, covered by her indignantly folded arms. Izzy could be a model, really, if she tried.

Cora rolled her eyes at Kai, who was leaning against the doorway to my bedroom and frowning at his sister. When he'd first opened the door, Isabelle had flung herself at him for an affectionate hug—courtesy of the pre-game vodka shots she'd downed already—and smiled dopily at her brother. He'd immediately settled for a firm no.

Izzy just raised an eyebrow. "It's so funny that you think you have a say in what I wear. Even a little bit. Like, it's adorable."

Kai's expression mirrored Izzy's; a raised eyebrow, a casual, confident incline of his chin. You could see the family resemblance. "You're not going on a date with Jake Bodrum in that dress."

"I know you must be saying something you think is useful, but all I'm getting is, 'I'm an overbearing douchebag. Please punch me in the balls'." Izzy's eyes went wide. "Oh, and was that 'my face as well, please Izzy, just fucking deck me, I deserve it'?"

I snorted a laugh, and at the sound, Kai's eyes shifted from his sister and fell upon me.

The smile faded from my face under the weight of his stare. His eyes had darkened slightly; noting the short skirt, the twist of my hair, the top that revealed a little more skin that usual. He perused the lines of my body, a small, satisfied grin tilting the edge of his slightly parted lips, and I couldn't help but stare back. Kai looked every bit like the bad boy he was known to be. A vintage black leather jacket was settled over a white t-shirt, black pants falling over legs even longer than Isabelle's. His eyelashes were one shade lighter than black, and he was so good-looking that he almost didn't fit in a place so normal and familiar to me as my own bedroom. I couldn't help but warm at the way he looked at me, sexy and promising, and when I bit my lip, that piercing gaze tracked the movement.

"I have three points to discuss," Isabelle announced, flinging herself onto my bed. She crossed her legs over the edge, leaning back on her hands to survey us with a decidedly dramatic flair. "First of all, ew." She looked between me and Kai, her lip curled in disgust. "To just, all of that. I hated every minute of that exchange. Second of all, you are doing yourself no favours if you're trying to convince people you're not dating, and keep doing the aforementioned disgusting googly eyes at each other. To which I reiterate, ew." I fought to hide a smile, exchanging a look with Kai that was shy on my part, and a little bit pleased with himself on his. "And thirdly," Isabelle interrupted. "It is unfair that when I wear a short skirt, it's all wow, Isabelle, you're a shameless hussy and need to change."

"I never said shameless huss—"

"But when Valerie wears a short skirt, it's all, wow Valerie, I'm going to be so enthralled that I feel the need to make everyone else in the room uncomfortable with my shameless hussy eyes. Like, just because you're my brother and therefore don't want to see me in a short skirt, just as I have no desire to see you in booty shorts, doesn't mean you get to dictate what I wear. It's inequality."

I smiled at Kai. "You did have shameless hussy eyes, you shameless hussy."

Kai looked to Cora for support, but she was hiding her mirth with two of her hands, eyes alight with amusement. When he stared at her beseechingly, she just grinned and said, "Personally, I think seeing you in booty shorts would be quite amusing."