NOVA POV
Later the following day, when my roommates finally got distracted with their own drama, I crept back to the bed, curiosity buzzing like bees under my skin. I had shoved the other boxes aside the previous, but now the temptation was too loud to ignore.
I started with the smallest one. A pink and white wrap, ribbon curled tight. My fingers tore it open, heartbeat skittering with every pull. Inside—
My eyes widened. My lips parted.
A dildo.
I almost choked on air, clapping my hand over my mouth before my laugh broke out too loud. I dropped the thing back into the box like it burned.
What the actual fuck? Luca. It had to be. No one else was this deranged. Who even mails soone silicone like it’s a Valentine?
The absurdity was too much. The reason behind this stupid decision of his was Way, way beyond . But it was Luca, so really? did I expect anything normal?
I pushed it aside, shaking my head, and turned to the largest package.
The second I lifted the lid, the world stopped.
Velvet. Dark, deep, almost the shade of midnight when the stars first start to show. The dress was folded like it was guarding a secret.
I reached out, and my hand trembled as I brushed over the fabric. So soft, so smooth, the kind of texture you’d see in old fairy tales or movies where the girl gets the impossible night she never thought she’d have.
I pulled it out, holding it against , watching it shimr under the bad fluorescent light of our hostel room. Even in this shitty lighting it looked like it belonged on a queen. On a goddess. On soone not .
And yet, it was mine.
I lifted it to my nose, closing my eyes as I inhaled that intoxicating newness of crisp fabric, clean dye, the scent of untouched beauty. It sent straight back to being a child, to those monts when I’d get one small new thing like an eraser, a cheap pair of socks and I’d sniff it obsessively because it felt like proof that I was worthy of sothing untouched.
This wasn’t thrift. This wasn’t hand--down. This was brand-new. For .
When I lowered the fabric, sothing slipped out from underneath.
A note.
My breath caught as I recognized the handwriting instantly. Not the neat loops of a secretary. Not the sharp script of an assistant. No. This was Grant.
His lazy scrawl slanted across the small page like he’d written it while smirking to himself. I traced the strokes with my finger, giddy and weak all at once.
’Dinner at a popular Rooftop restaurant. Private with just and him and the timing?...’
That was it. Simple. But it was enough to make my stomach flip, my heart trip over itself.
I glanced at the clock. Two hours. Less than the ti in the note, actually.
Panic and joy collided inside . No wonder the packages had co so early and if I’d opened them when they first arrived, I would’ve had ti to prep like a normal person.
Now I was flying blind, jittery with nerves and at the sa ti my mind was curious about whatever it was Sandy told Nova that had her looking at suspiciously.
I shot into the bathroom, humming nonsense, my body too restless to stay still. The shower was a blur. I washed and scrubbed like I could peel away the girl I’d been and step out the woman he saw. All I could think about was his hands gripping my waist, his voice low and thick in my ear, the way he made feel like every other noise in the world fell away when he was close.
By the ti I stepped out, steam curling around , I was smiling like a lunatic. I twirled in the mirror, water dripping, hair clinging to my skin.
I tried the dress on.
And oh my god.
It wasn’t just beautiful. It was dangerous. It hugged , kissed , made feel like soone who deserved to be seen. Like soone who belonged at his side.
But then reality slamd across the face. I didn’t know how to do makeup and Lena is actually skilled in it but I’m even scared to approach her. My hands hovered uselessly near my bare face, panic blooming in my chest.
Because what if I ruined it?
What if I looked like a clown?
But then a softer thought slipped in. Grant doesn’t care. He sees . He wants and that should matter much more than what Lena thought about .
I exhaled before stripping the dress carefully, laying it across the bed like it was sacred, and reached instead for one of the lingerie sets he’d sent over the weeks. My fingers skimd past black lace, sheer white, until they paused on red. Of course.
Red was his color.
This one wasn’t even lingerie, it’s much of a cage of straps, fishnet, belts that frad my body more than they covered my flesh. My face went hot just holding it. My man likes in red.
My man.
I giggled like a schoolgirl, ridiculous and shaless.
I was half inside the tangled straps when voices echoed in the hallway. My heart leapt into my throat. Shit. Lena. My roommates.
I scrambled, shoved Grant’s note deep into my drawer, yanked my robe tight, and sat at the vanity with lotion, pretending to moisturize like nothing was happening.
The door flew open a few seconds after.
"Guess who the latest Cinderella is?" Katie’s voice carried, mischievous, loud.
I froze. Then rembered—shit. The dress was still laid across my bed like a glowing secret.
"Nova the Nerd turns Nova the Baddie," Lena crowed, eyes widening as she swept toward it.
Would she be able to guess it’s from her dad?
Heat exploded in my cheek while I ducked, tried to play coy, but who was I kidding? They were my friends. They knew when I was hiding.
And then they descended, just like that, they took control and any doubts or suspicions I might have about Lena hating lted away.
She was still my ever loving bestie.
In a blur of minutes, foundations get sared, brushes flicked, powders dusted. Katie argued over shades, Lena pressed my chin up with two fingers like she was Michelangelo carving his masterpiece.
By the ti they were done, the mirror didn’t show . It showed soone I’d never dared to be
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
"Guys..." My voice cracked.
I didn’t recognize myself. My reflection was a stranger with flawless skin, sharp cheekbones, eyes lined dark, lips painted like sin. My bob looked thicker, glossier, styled with a volu I’d never managed myself.
Tears pooled instantly.
"I look... I look like a Harlequin Christmas cover."
Katie groaned, dramatic as always. "Only you would compare this baddie look to a book cover."
Lena leaned in, mock glaring. "Don’t cry. Waterproof only goes so far. Don’t ruin my masterpiece."
But the tears still threatened.
"You are beautiful, Nova," she said, softer this ti. The brush touched my cheek as she swept a tear away. "You’re worth every good thing coming to you. Don’t doubt that for a second. You are that girl. And the universe knows it."
Sothing cracked inside . If only she knew the only good thing I wanted was her dad; I swallowed hard.
Katie shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Thought you didn’t want her to cry."
"Shut up," Lena said, half laughing, half serious. "Sotis you gotta let the words land."
They zipped up. Slipped heels onto my feet. Clutched a bag into my hand. By the end of it, I was trembling with excitent, with gratitude, with sothing close to disbelief.
Soon after, pictures were taken;Katie shrieking, Lena teaching to pose, flashes of cara light that made feel like a celebrity for one wild second.
And then, finally, silence.
I grabbed my phone, already reaching for a ride app.
But Lena’s hand stopped . "No need. Car’s already waiting."
Relief filled with assurance of, Jay of course, her driver. Who was safe, normal and used to us.
Except when we stepped into the hallway, I froze.
Because sitting in the lobby, back straight, hands folded, was a woman.
She stood slowly. Her dress bled scarlet down her body, silk clinging to curves like it was painted on. Her lips were curved in a smile that looked like it could cut.
Sandy.
My gasp was too sharp and loud, I couldn’t contain it.
"You rember her?" Lena asked, oblivious, too happy. "She told she’s a friend of your boyfriend’s. She’ll be escorting you."
The world tilted. My knees threatened to give.
"And here I was thinking you wouldn’t show up like you promised," Sandy cooed, eyes locked on mine, voice dripping mock sweetness. "I’m so... threatened."
A cold sweat broke across my skin. My promise to her echoed back, ugly and sharp, I already swore to her that I’d stay away from Grant. And now here she was, dressed like a bloodstained twin, hijacking the night I thought belonged to .
"My friend’s shy," Lena rushed in, filling the silence. "But look at her, ready to slay the gala!"
Gala?
What the hell was she talking about? Grant’s note had said rooftop. Private. Intimate. Not... this.
"Oh, she’ll slay," Sandy said smoothly, eyes never leaving mine. "I have no doubt."
Then she reached out with her perfectly manicured nails. Scarlet tips gleaming like claws.
I froze.
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