Coralie:
Something comfortable but nice.
Me:
Yes, ma’am.
Coralie had said something comfortable but nice. And now that I was staring at my closet, I didn’t know what the fuck that was supposed to mean. I huffed and tightened my fingers around the edge of my closet door, glaring at my wardrobe as if it’d personally offended me. At this point, it was beginning to.
“Baby, why aren’t you ready yet?” Coralie asked, stepping into our dorm room, a frown pulling down the corners of her addictive lips. I glanced at them for a moment, unable to help wanting to feel them against mine again, but I knew we didn’t have time to be fooling around like that. I wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for our date.
I huffed. “I don’t know what the fuck to wear,” I admitted, stomping my foot for good measure.
Coralie slid up beside me, her smooth hand palming my ass cheek. I sucked in a sharp breath, swinging my eyes over to look at her. Our eyes clashed, and her lips tilted up on one side in a devilish smirk that had my belly tightening and my panties dampening.
Jesus fuck. She had no right looking so damn good. Or looking like she wanted to eat me.
“Go sit down,” she told me, giving my ass a squeeze before releasing me. “I’ll pick something out for you to wear. If I don’t, we’re going to be late.”
Wondering what she had planned for us, I settled on the end of my bed, watching as she rummaged through my closet, pulling out a pair of black leggings, a tank top with lacey edges at the bottom of the shirt, and a black sweater. She tossed them at me. “Get dressed.” As I tugged the leggings up my thighs, she kneeled down, grabbing my black ankle boots. “Sit,” she instructed once I had the leggings on and was tugging the tank top over my head. I obediently sat, my heart fluttering in my chest when she crouched in front of me and tugged socks over my feet before sliding my feet into the boots.
God, I loved it when she took care of me like this. It felt like old times, yet so much more. Because now… we were also so much more.
“There.” She pressed her hands into the mattress on either side of my hips and leaned in, pressing her lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “Come on. You look fucking amazing, and I want to show you off.”
I laughed a little and placed my hand in hers when she held it out, letting her pull me up from the bed. “You look good, too,” I told her honestly. She was wearing dark-wash jeans paired with a black v-neck tucked into the front of her pants. Her Converse completed the look. But Coralie always looked good, no matter what she wore. She was effortlessly beautiful. Didn’t even have to try.
She hummed and pulled me against her side after she locked our door, lifting her arm so she could wrap it around my shoulders, which brought my arm across my chest because she hadn’t let my hand go. “I always look good, baby.”
I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed at the term of endearment. If she kept that up, I was going to melt into a fucking puddle.
I groaned as we walked along the river, watching a colorful boat with tourists in it float by, their chatter filling the air. “I am so full. Why did you let me eat so much?” I asked, leaning heavily into Coralie, who snorted at my dramatics.
“I told you that you were going to be too full,” she reminded me. “But you insisted on that key lime pie.”
I pouted up at her, loving the way the lights reflected in her pretty eyes. “But key lime pie is life,” I told her.
She snickered and dropped a sweet kiss to my lips. “Whatever you say, baby.”
We continued walking, eventually coming to one of the many parks in downtown San Antonio, where a band was playing some slow country song. I wasn’t much of one for country music; I preferred rock music. And from what I could remember, Coralie’s music tastes had always been similar to mine. So, I was surprised when she suddenly spun me around and pulled me into her arms. My heart climbed into my throat and tears threatened when she began to slow dance with me.
“Cor…” I croaked. This was so much. She was so much.
She hummed in answer, but I didn’t know what to say. So, I just kept my mouth shut and closed my eyes, leaning my head on her shoulder as we slowly moved to the music, joining the other couples swaying along. The song changed, and then another, and after three more songs of us just silently dancing and enjoying each other’s company, Coralie softly asked, her lips brushing my ear, “Will you be my girlfriend, Mila?”
Tears immediately slid down my cheeks as I hurriedly nodded my head. “Yes,” I croaked, leaning back to look up at her. “Yes, I’ll?—”
Not letting me complete my sentence, she kissed me then, her hands cupping my cheeks. But I didn’t care—not when her lips were finally on mine the way I’d been wanting all evening. I wrapped my fingers around her wrists, holding her to me.
Maybe happily ever afters were possible after all.
Fourteen
Coralie
When we got back to the dorm room, Mila and I were all over each other. Our hands clawed at each other’s clothes, and our mouths barely separated except to breathe or pull an item of clothing off. She was just as needy and desperate as I was. The moment she’d agreed and I’d kissed her, our night of slow dancing had gone from zero to one hundred, and it’d taken everything in me not to just pull my car into some sketchy alley, drag her into the backseat, and get us both off.
“Bed,” I commanded before pressing one more hot kiss to her lips. When I released her, she crawled back on my bed, and I moved over her, pressing my mouth to hers once more because fuck, I couldn’t stand to be parted from them.