3

IVY

My head was pounding.

I groaned and rolled onto my side, dragging the pillow over my face like it could block out the sun stabbing through the curtains.

“Ughhh, I’m never drinking again,” I muttered into the mattress. My throat was dry. My legs ached.

And my brain… was not helping.

Because the first image that flashed across my mind?

Dominic.

His hand on my throat.

His chest against mine.

The feel of his cock was hard and hot against my thigh when he pinned me down in the car.

“Oh my God.” I sat up and smacked myself lightly across the face. “Stop it. Stop. Thinking. About. Him.”

What the hell was wrong with me?

I’d had a stupid crush on him in high school. Everyone goes through weird phases, right? I was seventeen, angry at the world, and he was...tall, hot, and never smiled. Whatever. That was old news.

I wasn’t that girl anymore.

Except apparently my brain didn’t get the memo. Because even now, my thighs pressed together like I needed—

“NOPE,” I said out loud. “We’re not doing this.”

I peeled myself off the bed, shuffled to the bathroom, and stared at my reflection.

Messy hair. Smudged mascara. A hickey forming on my neck I definitely didn’t remember getting.

“Love that for me,” I muttered.

After a long, hot shower and two aspirin, I felt slightly more human. I threw on a baggy shirt, no bra, and tiny shorts. I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone today anyway.

Boy, was I wrong.

As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard laughter.

What the—?

I turned the corner into the living room—

“SURPRISE, BITCH!”

I screamed as Mia threw a pillow straight at my face.

“What the—MIA?!”

“And me!” Amaya beamed, arms wide as she ran over to hug me. “Surprise!”

“Wait—how—” I was still trying to catch my breath.

“We texted your mom,” Mia said, smirking. “Told her we were coming down for the weekend.”

“She said okay?” I raised an eyebrow.

“She did,” Mia said.

“Wow,” I muttered.

I hugged them both tightly. Amaya smelled like vanilla and strawberries. Mia smelled like attitude and lip gloss. I missed them more than I realized.

And then—ugh.

Janelle.

“Hey Ivy,” she said, stepping forward with a half-smile. “Long time.”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a polite smile. “Nice to see you.”

Lie.

She hugged me, too long, too fake.

“She was with us already,” Amaya said, not noticing the way I tensed. “So we brought her along!”

“Yay,” I said flatly.

Mia caught my eyes over Janelle’s shoulder and raised one eyebrow.

I knew what that meant.

You okay?

I gave her a tight nod.

She nodded back. Nothing else. That’s why I loved her. Mia never pushed unless she had to.

We all sat on the couch, catching up. They told me about the college drama, dumb boys, weird roommates, and even weirder professors. I laughed more than I had in days.

“And then this guy actually asked if I wanted to 'meditate naked under the moon’ with him,” Amaya said, wide-eyed.

Mia snorted. “I would’ve said yes. Then called the cops.”

I giggled. “Sounds like your type, Maya.”

“He was cute!” she defended.

“Girl, so is crack. Don’t mean you should try it,” Mia said, dead serious.

We all burst out laughing.

Even Janelle chuckled—though I caught the way her eyes kept flicking around the house. Nosy bitch.

“You look tired,” Janelle said to me after a moment.

“Wow, thanks,” I deadpanned.

“No, like...kinda pale. Hungover?”

Before I could answer, Mia cut in.

“She looks hot. Shut up, Jan.”

I shot her a grateful look.

Then Amaya clapped her hands. “Okay! Face masks. I brought the charcoal ones that smell like cucumbers.”

“Bless you,” I groaned. “My skin is crying.”

Ten minutes later we were all in the bathroom, our faces painted black and hair tied up. We looked ridiculous.

“I look like a burnt raccoon,” Mia said.

“You always do,” I replied sweetly.

She flipped me off. “Love you too, babe.”

Amaya giggled. “This is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in weeks.”

I paused.

She was right.

For a moment, I wasn’t thinking about being expelled, or being called a slut, or Dominic’s hand on my throat and—

Dammit.

“Hey,” Mia said softly, leaning closer. “You good?”

I looked at her.

Those sharp brown eyes. She wasn’t joking now.

I swallowed.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

She didn’t believe me.

But she let it go.

We went downstairs and crashed in the living room, scrolling TikTok, watching dumb movies, laughing at old pictures. My stomach actually hurt from laughing.

“I missed this,” Amaya said dreamily.

“Me too,” I whispered.

“Ivy,” Mia said suddenly. “You sure you’re okay?”

Before I could answer—

The front door opened.

I turned my head—and froze.

Dominic stepped in, sweaty and muscular, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

He paused when he saw us all on the floor.

Our eyes met for half a second.

Heat shot straight through me.

He looked away first.

“Evening,” he said.

“Hey, Mr. D,” Amaya chirped.

Mia waved, casual.

Janelle crossed her legs and twirled her hair. “Hi sir.”

I, wanted to gag.

He nodded politely and walked into the kitchen.

I could still feel the ghost of his hand on my throat.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said quickly, brushing my hair behind my ear.

Amaya smiled and nodded. “Come on, Janelle. You have to see Ivy’s insane skincare collection.”

Janelle followed her, chattering about how nice the house was. I didn’t care to listen.

Mia stayed behind.

She didn’t say anything right away. Just stared at me with those sharp, dark eyes of hers.

“What?” I asked, forcing a small smile.

She stepped closer. “Come here.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Just come.”

I sighed and walked over.

Mia pulled me into a hug without warning.

I froze at first… but then I melted into it.

“You’re not okay,” she whispered. “But you will be. And that bastard will be punished. One way or another.”

I shut my eyes tightly, gripping the back of her hoodie.

God, I missed her.

She pulled back after a moment and gave me a small smirk. “Now let’s get snacks before we starve to death.”

“God, yes,” I said, wiping my face. “Doritos. Popcorn. That weird marshmallow thing you like.”

“Hell yeah,” she said.

We padded into the kitchen like hungry raccoons.

Dominic was there, of course—standing by the counter, opening a bottle of water. His back was to us, but that broad back still made my stomach flip.

Mia didn’t hesitate.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr D.” she said.

Dominic turned halfway, raised a brow. “Still loud, I see.”

“You love it,” she teased.

“I tolerate it,” he said, but his lips twitched a little. Not quite a smile, but it was something.

Mia nudged me and whispered, “See? He likes me.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I whispered back, grabbing popcorn.

“We’re raiding your pantry!” she announced.

Dominic shrugged. “Not like anyone asked before.”

Mia winked and grabbed three bags of chips and a box of cookies. I snatched a couple sodas from the fridge.

“We good?” I asked her.

“Yeah, let’s go rot our brains with a romcom,” she said, bouncing ahead of me.

As we climbed the stairs, I heard Dominic mutter under his breath, “Teenagers.”

Mia turned back and yelled, “We’re twenty, you old man!”

“Still acting twelve,” he called back.

I laughed. It felt… weird. But good.

Back in my room, Amaya and Janelle were already setting up the floor with blankets and pillows.

“Ivy, this room is everything,” Janelle said, her eyes wide. “Like, I’m actually jealous.”

I smiled politely. “Thanks.”

“We were just picking a movie,” Amaya added. “I’m voting for To All the Boys.”

“Again?” Mia groaned. “You have a thing for Peter Kavinsky, just admit it.”

“Shut up,” Amaya said, blushing.

We threw on the movie, opened snacks, and passed sodas around.

The first twenty minutes were full of loud laughter, sarcastic commentary, and popcorn fights. For a little while, I forgot about everything. The scandal. My mom. Dominic’s hands on me. Everything.

Amaya lay on her back, painting her nails mid-movie.

Janelle took a million selfies.

Mia sat beside me with a facemask on and a mountain of Doritos in her lap.

I felt normal again.

“I’ve missed this,” I said softly.

Mia looked over. “We missed you more.”

Hours passed. The movie ended. The room grew quiet. Janelle had fallen asleep halfway through the second movie, curled on a pillow like a cat.

Amaya was half-asleep, scrolling through her phone with her eyes barely open.

Mia stretched out on the floor beside me. “I’m officially in a food coma.”

I yawned. “Same.”

One by one, the girls dozed off and I did too.

I woke up few hours later and my throat was dry. I needed water.

Careful not to wake anyone, I slid off the bed, tiptoed over Mia, and padded downstairs in my socks.

Then I heard it.

A sound.

I froze.

At first I thought maybe one of the girls had come downstairs too. Maybe Mia.

Another sound. A moan.

Low. Female.

Then a man’s voice. Grunting.

Dominic.

And Janelle.

Over the damn kitchen counter.

He had her bent over like it was his job. Her tight little dress was bunched up around her waist, and his hand was buried in her hair, yanking her head back while he thrust into her with deep, hard strokes.

She moaned—loud.

“Fuck, Dominic—right there—oh my God!”

He grunted low. “You like that?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck—don’t stop—”

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

And the worst part?

He looked up.

Dead in the middle of it. Mid-thrust. Eyes dark, wild.

And he saw me.

My heart jumped into my throat.

But he didn’t stop.

Didn’t even blink.

He stared at me—like he wanted me to watch. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Janelle didn’t see me. She had her eyes closed, mouth open, moaning like she was auditioning for p**n.

I backed away slowly, silently.

My thighs clenched without meaning to.

Fuck.

What the actual hell was wrong with me?

I turned and practically ran back upstairs, every step light, quick, desperate.

My brain was a mess. I hated her. I hated him.

And I hated how wet I was.

Back in my room, everyone was still asleep.

I collapsed onto my bed.

She was smiling at Amaya earliererererererer, all sweet and polite. Asking about Dominic—laughing too hard at stupid jokes. I'd seen her looking him up and down like he was a snack.

And now she was bent over our kitchen counter?

By my stepdad?

What the actual fuck?

I pressed my palms into my eyes. “No. No no no. This isn’t happening. I didn’t see that. It’s just a dream.”

Except it wasn’t.

My panties were damp. My breathing was off. And I couldn’t forget the way Dominic looked at me.

And the worst part?

My body fucking responded.

My nipples were hard.

My thighs were shaking.

And my brain kept replaying the image of him, hips snapping against her, that deep grunt from his throat, her squealing like she was losing her mind.

I wanted to throw up.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”