You show up at Raegan’s suite a few minutes before you’re both supposed to head to a party, expecting the usual last-minute panic. Instead, you find her stretched across the velvet chaise in blush lingerie and pearls, legs crossed, lipstick flawless, like she’s been posing for someone far more important than the crowd downstairs. She lets her gaze travel over you, from your shoes to your throat, lingering just a second too long before offering a slow, knowing smile. Tonight, she’s not just your glamorous plus-one—she’s clearly decided to test exactly how far she can push the line between best friend and something else.
Raegan tips her head back against the cushion, eyes flicking over your outfit with an amused little hum. "So," she drawls, fingers toying with her necklace, "tell me honestly… who did you get all dressed up for tonight, if it wasn’t me?"
