Pump Two: An Erotic Romance Novella by J Cherry

Author:J Cherry [Cherry, J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-06-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Violet

“Straightened or curled?” Freya asks, assessing the flat iron I gave her.

“Hm, curled,” I respond from my position on my bed, watching as she takes the scorching hair appliance and wraps a strand of her hair around it.

Freya focuses on curling her hair at record speed while I’m too busy overthinking Devon’s last visit. He caught me off guard with his willingness to show his face at our next meeting. Whilst a large part of me can’t wait, I’m going to miss the mask.

I don’t know why I’m acting like the mask is going to change anything, I was ready to risk it all yesterday. If Devon had told me to bend over in the utility closet last night, I would’ve done so without a second thought. Mask on and all.

Sighing, I roll onto my back. It’s my day off, and that means no thoughts of work. No work means no Devon. I have a party to be excited about instead.

“Freya, do you remember the last party I went to, and I caught my ex cheating?” I say, starting a conversation to distract myself.

“Oh my god! I almost forgot about that. That was the last party you went to? Was it at Micah’s too?” Freya gets up and walks over to a small purse where she throws in some lip gloss.

“Yep.” I nod. “That was the first time we met, too.” My ex was an ass. Looking back at it, I was way too good for him. Stupid high school romance.

Freya hastily slips into a pair of sandal heels and casually pops a piece of gum into her mouth, rushing toward the mirror to quickly assess her makeup.

“Yeah, now we are three years older, single, and going to a party where lots of hot guys will be. Not stupid eighteen-year-olds.” She makes a sound of disgust at the last part of her sentence and turns to face me. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

We drive to the address, and it surprisingly doesn’t take us long to arrive. Stepping out of the car, Freya exudes an air of familiarity as she leads the way. A delicate trace of sweet perfume lingers in the air, trailing after her as we traverse the front yard and move toward a large front porch that’s adorned with majestic marble pillars. She navigates us like she’s been here a million times before.

“Micah!” Freya calls to the back of a tall guy with curly hair and brown skin. He looks at both of us, and the way he holds himself makes me think he’s now a celebrity of some sort. Aside from going to one of his parties before, I don’t know anything about him.

Freya mentioned that he’s well-known amongst Hollywood cliques. It makes sense. He honestly looks like he should be in clubs, mingling with A-listers; not throwing a party back in his small hometown.

“Hey ladies! I don’t recognize you, thanks for coming. What are your names?” He speaks loudly, his voice fighting against the bass emanating from inside the house.

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