Chapter 1
Hadley
I purse my lips, staring at my reflection in the closet mirror. At Layla’s suggestion, I put on a sheer white top that showcases the lacy black bra underneath and a matching onyx skirt.
“How do I look?” I ask the two girls perching on the edge of the bed. Layla, as always, is the epitome of perfection and raw sexuality. Even in her ratty t-shirt and sweatpants, she looks as if she just stepped off a fashion runway. Her dark hair is stylishly curled away from her porcelain face that’s complete with dewy features and red, plush lips.
Beside her, Aggie looks like…well…like an eighty-year-old, sex-starved woman. Today, she’s wearing bunny ears and a crop top. Her wrinkled hands are fondling her breasts through the thin material.
Crazy fucking bitch.
“Beautiful,” Layla assures me, tucking a strand of silky black hair behind her ear. “He’s a lucky man.”
“You know who’s a lucky man?” Aggie cuts in, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “The man who got a taste of paradise. A taste of my baby maker. I remember those days…” Her tone turns wistful, dreamy almost. “He set a literal trap for me on the forest floor. I was out for a walk with my pussy cat…well…actually I was just airing out my own pussy who sometimes hisses like a cat, when suddenly, I found myself tangled in a rope net high in a tree, a wedgie the size of—”
“Aggie,” I say, fighting off an encroaching headache. The recollections of her sexual escapades do that to me.
Turning once more towards the mirror, I attempt to tame a wayward curl. After a moment of ineffectually brushing it away, I decide to leave it hanging in front of my eyes.
“You look really pretty, Had,” Layla offers, coming to stand behind me in the mirror. She gives my shoulders a quick squeeze. “Promise.”
“I think I’m going to say it,” I admit, fiddling with the hem of my skirt. When Layla merely quirks a brow, remaining silent, I elaborate. “I’m going to tell him the truth about my feelings…how I feel about him.” The words tumble from my mouth, but now that I have begun talking, I can’t seem to stop. “I’m going to tell him I love him.”
The realization settles in my gut like lead, intertwining with the ball of nerves already there. My hands are sweaty, and I subtly attempt to wipe them on my skirt.
“You’re going to tell him you love him?” Layla asks uneasily. Her lips are turned down so far, I’m afraid her face will stick like that. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You haven’t known him long.”
For some reason, her words cause indignation to rush through me, burning me. An inferno just beneath the surface.
“Why does that matter?” I inquire angrily. “Wouldn’t I know how I feel? I’m not stupid, Layla. I know what love is…and this? It’s love. Real, untainted love.”
My mind conjures up images of the last time I saw him. His eyes, emanating nothing but love and warmth. His hand on mine. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so close to someone, to feel as if you’re complete whenever they’re present. This sensation is addicting.
“Have you banged yet?” Aggie asks crassly, but very seriously. “You know the rules. If you bang a guy, you automatically become his baby mama.” When I give her a look, she shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t shoot the messenger. That’s relationship one-oh-one. Just like you have to ask for oral at least once a day to maintain a happy, healthy relationship. Anything less than that, and you’re nothing better than a cock-pot.”
I lean towards Layla. “Did you understand any of that?”
“I think she said something about the necessity of oral in a healthy relationship,” she whispers back.
Duly noted, Aggie. Duly fucking noted.
Straightening, I brush my hands down my skirt once more, twisting and turning in front of the mirror. I feel hot. Sexy. Desirable.
Hopefully, he’ll think the same thing.
“I need to go and meet him.” Checking my phone—yes, there are phones in the Afterlife. I think there’s an app called AfterBang, but I haven’t used it yet. Besides that, it doesn’t do anything but tell time. I wave goodbye to Layla and Aggie.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Layla asks anxiously. She nibbles her bottom lip, her worry physically manifesting itself.
Aggie, of course, just whips off her shirt, saggy tits on full display for the world.
“Lead him to me,” she purrs suggestively, and I grimace.
“Um…I’m not going to lead my