Eli slowly grins and looks at Sara, who’s eyes gleam with anticipation.
“I dare you to send that sex fantasy to Nick,” she says, giggling. “Make him realize what he's missing.”
My eyes widen as my heart beats wildly in my chest.
Send that fantasy to Nick?
No fucking way.
But deep down, there’s a part of me that really wants to do it. I want to prove to Nick that I’m not the sweet, innocent girl he thinks I am. I want him to see what he’s missing out on, then beg me to take him back.
Whether I would take him back is another question…
Wetting my lips, I pull out my phone and begin to type while my friends smother their giggles. God, why didn’t I just pick truth?
Damn the alcohol for making me feel so ballsy.
Me: You break in through my window in the middle of the night. You tie me up, blindfold me, then do all sorts of dirty and twisted things to me, all while whispering in my ear what a good little girl I am. Want to help me make this fantasy a reality?
I hit send and regret it immediately, the little Sent confirmation below the message taunting me. When it changes to Read, I feel even worse. I stare at the message, panic rising inside me. I wait for a reply, but nothing comes through. The only thing worse than drunk texting your ex a twisted sex fantasy is when he doesn’t reply.
Fuck, this is bad.
My fingers clench around my phone and I swallow harshly, glad that the game seems to be going on without my friends wanting any follow up about the text. God, what was I thinking? You don't just send shit like that, let alone to your ex-boyfriend.
Sara silently shakes beside me. I narrow my eyes at her, which only makes her laugh harder. She’s got that devious look in her eyes that nearly always means bad news for me.
“What?” I ask suspiciously. “What's going on?”
“Um… okay, don't be mad,” Sara says, holding up her hand. My eyes narrow. I’m mad already and she hasn’t even told me what the hell she’s done. “But while you were in the bathroom, I might have switched Nick's number in your phone.”
My eyes widen. “You did what?” I demand, my voice a high-pitched squeak. “Switched it with who?”
“Uh, some dude named Andrew?” Her voice rises so high that it comes out like a question.
“You switched Nick’s name with his dad?” I gasp.
My heart literally stops beating. I just sent my dirty, twisted little fantasy to my ex-boyfriend’s father. Leaning forward, I gasp for air. I feel sick. All I can do is picture him reading my message and… I shudder, bile rising in my chest as I swallow it back.
How am I ever going to face him again?
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was his dad,” Sara sputters through her hysterics. “We were worried you might get drunk and call Nick—”
“So, you thought letting me sext his dad was a better option?” I growl through my tears.
What makes this whole thing even worse is that fact that his dad is hot. Like, I may or may not have imagined him as the star of said fantasy on more than one occasion kind of hot.
“I’m sorry, Holls. I wasn’t thinking…”
But I’m not listening. All I can think about is how screwed I am, and in the worst possible way. What the hell is he going to think of me after reading that text? How do I explain myself to him?
What if he tells Nick?
Oh God.
What the fuck am I going to do?
My phone beeps. Hands shaking, I click on the text.
Andrew: How can I refuse an offer like that?
Holy fuck.
Sucking in a breath, I read the text again. I can’t believe he replied, let alone with a response like that. I glance up, feeling Eli’s gaze on me. Before I can process the devilish look in her eyes, my phone is in her hands.
“You have to reply.” Eli gasps, her eyes widening as she reads Andrew’s response.
“No,” I cry out. I launch myself at her, but she ducks out of my grip and dives for the bathroom. “Don’t you dare!” I howl at her through the closed door, while Lucy and Sara dissolve into hysterics on the floor. “Eli, come on. Please don’t reply,” I plead, pounding my fists on the door. The door cracks open and Eli smirks at me as she hands my phone back to me.
“Too late.”
