KILLIAN.
"Dude, isn't that your girlfriend?" Trevor asks, nodding toward the entrance, and I follow his gaze without even thinking, and the second my eyes land on her, I nearly choke on my own f*****g drink.
She's standing there at the entrance wearing the exact outfit I picked out and had delivered to her this evening, a fitted silver satin skirt that stops mid-thigh paired with a matching silver top that looks like it can't contain her breasts and she's taller tonight, heels doing exactly what it's expected to do.
Her chestnut hair is pulled back except for two loose strands framing her face, no makeup except for something glossy and slick coating her lips, making them look softer, fuller, more kissable than they already are.
The second she spots me, she nervously bites down on that
