Ella Claire:
The tequila hit different tonight.
Not like the cheap stuff we drank in plastic cups at frat parties or the celebratory shots after finals. No—this hit like a promise. Like freedom sliding down my throat, warm and wicked.
The bass vibrated through the floor as I danced, laughing so hard my ribs hurt. Kenzie spun me under a swirl of lights, and we collapsed into each other in a tangle of giggles.
“I forgot how much I missed this,” I shouted over the music.
Kenzie twirled a lock of my hair and winked. “You mean the dancing, or the getting stared at by half the damn bar?”
I smirked, feeling the buzz settle deep in my limbs. I knew I looked good tonight. I wasn’t just a girl coming home from college—I was a woman now. Confident. Curved. Dangerous, in the way only someone who
