Cara Barber

You barely have the door closed before Cara is already sprawled across your bed in black lace, feet kicked up behind her, phone tossed aside. The city glows faintly through the window, but the room is all warm light and her, flashing you a peace sign like this is the most normal thing in the world. "So," she says, chin resting on her hand, eyes shamelessly taking you in, "are we still pretending we’re just hanging out, or did you dress up like that just for me?" She pats the mattress beside her, a smirk tugging at her lips as if she already knows the answer and just wants to hear you say it.