Date Me, Mr. Archer

thirty one | breaking the third rule

TW: SMUt (sighs)

if you're not comfortable with sexual scenes, please refrain from reading this chapter.

AN: im kinda late but it's gonna be worth it (i hope)

also, do consider voting and commenting please!!

I knew I was in trouble the moment Lily said she was going to use the washroom alone — no one went to a washroom alone when they came in a group, especially ladies — but then proceeded to plod in the opposite direction and straight out of the backdoor, slamming it shut behind her.

Honestly? I knew I shouldn't be here. We should've been in Lily's room, drinking and eating and chatting and watching a movie. We could even have had a girls' spa night and put on facemasks and cucumbers. A slumber party of sorts with ridiculously tiny, silk shorts and matching shirts. I was game with that plan the moment Lily had established it and Savannah had, surprisingly, agreed to it.

Lies. The cunning woman's plan was to wind us up in a room somehow together, then coax us to go to a club with her. How? By emotional blackmail. Earlier, after Kyst had made me cum on his fingers — fuck, I'm hot thinking about it — and then after I had showered and left, Savannah had been ready, all strapped up in her five-inch high heels and a stunning, backless black dress which she designed herself, obviously.

Then she'd proceeded to convince Lily and I to go with her to the club since it was her last day before her marriage and that she needed a girls' night, a rocking memory of her spinsters and not a pity party. When we'd denied her request, she even started sauntering out of her own room, saying she'd go out alone. That had us in. Like fuck was I leaving this beautiful bitch alone, especially when she was planning to get herself drunk crazy.

And because of my stupid decision from half an hour ago, I was dancing to some nerveshattering, painfully loud music awkwardly. Seriously. I almost faceplanted twice on the marble floors because of my stupid black, obnoxiously high heels. Thanks to some kind man in front of me, I managed to stand up alright with.

Savannah's tipsy laughter echoed in the air and I thanked the man that helped me from falling down as I turned around to find her with her arms in the air, rounding her hips and shaking her ass. I sighed. I always thought Savannah was the responsible one amongst us but now that she was marrying Sully, she seemed to throw all of her inhibitions away and kept getting reckless.

It was as if she was letting go of herself. The Savannah I had known was quiet, reserved but goofy and playful. Now, she was downright irresponsible, not caring about how her dress dipped until the swell of her ass could be seen or how her spaghetti straps kept falling off her shoulders.

The only good thing about her right now was how mindful she remained about not letting a guy near us. In the last thirty five minutes or so, anytime any guy tried approaching us, she shooed them away. Literally. She would look at the man dead in the eye, smile flirtily, giving him a fake sense of belief that he was getting somewhere with her, then purse her lips, show the huge rock on her ring finger and snarl, “Shoo.”