Abby Ryan has her whole life planned out, up until graduation that is. As a journalism student at the University of Southern Washington, she has one goal in mind for her last semester of senior year: secure a scholarship for graduate school. But whe...
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"Chug it, Abs." Nia smirks, tilting the bottle up with her finger. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the burning in my throat as I chug the vodka.
We're playing catch-up since there was so much traffic on the way back from the game, and since we're still only mid-way through getting ready, we've resorted to multitasking. AKA—chugging vodka while getting ready. We were smart about it, though. We made sure to do our makeup before touching the liquor.
The drink prices in Vegas are astronomical, so to prevent us from not being able to pay rent when we get back home, we're all trying to get as drunk as we can before we leave, so the drinks we do buy help to maintain the drunkenness, not achieve it.
Nia finishes the final touches on my hair, and I admire it in the mirror as I pass her the bottle. I went for my usual loose waves, but somehow, they always look so much better whenever Nia does them. She achieves a level of volume I can never seem to recreate. They look tousled and effortless, a little bit like sex hair, but not in a bad way, and I grin at her in the mirror as she tilts her head back and chugs.
Jenny pulls open the bathroom door, stepping out in a short leopard print dress. The dark material is a gorgeous contrast to her white-blonde hair, falling around her in pretty curls as she leans over and slips on her heels.
"But can you shake your ass in it?" Nia teases, raising a playful brow as she takes another long sip from the bottle.
"Always." Jenny bends over and shakes her butt, arching her back as her head falls back in a laugh. Her dress rides up dangerously high but stays just below her butt, which for Jenny, means it passes the can I go out in this? test. Her smile is blinding as she crosses the room and takes the bottle from Nia, wrinkling her nose as she chugs as much of the liquor as possible. Out of all three of us, Jenny's the lightweight, and by the way she's swaying in place, I can tell she's already drunk.
I get up so she can take my place, taking the bottle from her as she falls into the chair. Most of her curls held perfectly from earlier, but when she pinpoints a few that lost their bounce, Nia grabs the curling iron and gets to work.
My body is warm and numb and feels lighter than before as I sift through Nia's suitcase, looking for something a little outside of my comfort zone. When my fingers graze a leather mini skirt, I pull it out, brushing my fingers over the smooth fabric.
"You should wear that with the new crop top I got yesterday." Nia nods toward the bag of lingerie sitting on the couch. "It's a less transparent lace; you should be fine to wear it out."
I sift through the bag, finding the black top she's talking about quickly in a sea of red and pink lingerie. It's lacy, but it has a lot more coverage than I was expecting, and when I hold it up to myself, I smile at the thought of Tristan seeing me in this.
Lingerie two nights in a row, I might give him a heart attack.
Looking over my shoulder, I catch Nia's eyes in the mirror.
