Chapter 2 Just for fun

[Agatha POV]

It was already noon when I finally left Lexie's place. She didn't have a shoot scheduled, so she begged me to stay, but I made up an excuse about having plans with my latest monthly favorite.

Every month, I switch out my casual partners. Relationships aren't my thing; I prefer keeping things strictly detached. As I was driving home, my phone rang through my earpieces.

"Hey, Agatha! Are you free tonight?" a smooth, flirtatious voice purred. I didn't recognize the contact because I never save numbers on my phone. The only names registered in my directory belong to my mom, my bosses, and my best friend. Anyone else isn't essential enough to occupy a contact slot.

"Yeah, I'm free. What's up?" I replied. "By the way... remind me who this is?"

"You are so mean! Did you seriously forget me already?" she laughed, sounding offended. "It's Cloe. We met at the National Library."

"Oh, right! Cloe. My bad, I didn't mean to be cold," I apologized, offering a peace offering. "What time should I pick you up?"

"Look at you, being all charming now," she teased. "Don't worry about it, I'll drive myself. Let's just meet there."

"Fair enough. Send me the address. See you later, baby girl."

I hadn't slept a wink, but my night was already booked. The second I unlocked my front door, I crashed onto my bed, completely exhausted. Yet, beneath the fatigue, a selfish wave of happiness washed over me. I loved that I had spent the entire night holding Lexie. Part of me—the ugly, desperate part—wished she would stay heartbroken just so she would keep running back to me. I hated seeing her cry, but I hated being away from her more.

With those conflicted thoughts spinning in my head, my eyes grew heavy, and I drifted off to sleep.

[Lexie POV]

Is she still not home yet? She hasn't even sent a text to let me know she arrived safely. Maybe she's deep into writing her new novel.

Today was my day off, and I had tried to convince her to hang out, but she clearly had other places to be. It feels like Agatha only shows up when my life is falling apart now. When we were kids, she used to be by my side constantly, whether I needed her or not.

She's probably out with another one of her short-term flings. I honestly don't understand what she gets out of constantly switching partners, but even if my best friend is a player, I accept her for who she is. I don't care what she does with her personal life, as long as she doesn't end up getting hurt.

[Narrator]

Agatha woke up at six in the evening. She took a quick shower and threw on a sleeveless crop top, a matching denim jacket suit, and tattered jeans. With some light makeup and a pair of sneakers, she headed out.

When she pulled into the crowded parking lot outside the club, the heavy bass and muffled cheers of the crowd were already vibrating through the air. The moment she stepped inside, Cloe was already waiting, greeting her with a sudden, breathless kiss on the lips.

"Hey! You actually made it," Cloe said, her eyes bright with excitement. "I was starting to think you'd flake."

"Never," Agatha replied with a smirk. "I just overslept a bit."

"Alright then, let's get a drink."

They cut through the crowd toward the bar counter. Cloe quickly ordered a round and handed a shot glass to Agatha. "Bottoms up!"

Agatha knocked it back in one clean gulp, immediately reaching for the next.

[Agatha POV]

The thumping bass and endless drinks made the night blur together perfectly. This is exactly why I stay single: total freedom. You can do whatever you want, go home with whoever you like, and live entirely on your own terms. No strings, no expectations, no drama.

Cloe and I moved to the middle of the crowded dance floor, glasses still in hand, losing ourselves in the music. After a while, though, I felt her weight shifting heavily against me.

"Are you okay, Cloe?" I asked, catching her waist. She was completely wasted. I have a remarkably high tolerance, so even if we stayed until dawn, I’d still be sober enough to manage.

"Let's get out of here," she mumbled against my neck, her meaning crystal clear.

Even when a partner is completely drunk, I have a strict rule: I never bring anyone back to my apartment. Hotel rooms are the only option. Lexie has a duplicate key to my place and drops by whenever she wants, which is exactly why my home remains completely off-limits to anyone else.

"What about your car?" I whispered directly into her ear, intentionally leaning close to heighten the tension.

"My friend... she'll drive it back," Cloe stammered.

I paid our tab and guided her out into the cool night air. I like playing games, but I never let my casual partners pay my way. Cloe stumbled against me as we walked, and I couldn't tell if she was genuinely losing her balance or just trying to get closer to me. To be honest, I couldn't even remember the last time we actually hooked up.

But there’s one thing no one ever breaks: my boundaries. I never surrender my own body. We play one way—my way. I don't let anyone touch me intimately. The moment someone tries to cross that line, our arrangement is over ahead of schedule. A total breach of contract. They all know the rule: One Month of Pleasure.

We checked into a nearby boutique hotel. I laid Cloe down on the bed, and my hands took over, peeling away her clothes until there was nothing left between us. I leaned down, kissing my way along her skin, tracing a slow line down to her chest until I found her nipple, teasing it with my tongue until she gasped.

I traced lower, down her stomach, leaving a trail of light kisses until I reached her center. The moment I touched her, she arched off the mattress, her quiet composure shattering completely.

"Ah... fuck me, Agatha," she breathed, her voice tight with anticipation. That desperate edge in a partner's voice is always the part that thrills me most.

I slipped two fingers inside her, listening to her ragged breathing fill the quiet room. She was getting louder, completely lost in the moment, when a sharp vibration shattered the atmosphere.

Ring... ring... ring...

I froze. I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket with my free hand to check the screen.

Lexie.

I let out a heavy sigh, instantly stepping back and pulling away from the bed.

"What's wrong?" Cloe asked, blinking up at me in total confusion.

I offered a tight, apologetic smile and shook my head. "I'm incredibly sorry, Cloe, but I have to leave. It's an emergency. My mom is calling."

Frustration and disbelief flashed across her face, and I had to bite back a laugh at how absurd the timing was.

"Right, hilarious," Cloe groaned, tossing her head back onto the pillows. "You always leave me hanging like this. Honestly, sometimes I doubt it’s even your mother calling in the middle of our lovemaking."

My eyebrows shot up at her choice of words. I didn't correct her, but there was a massive difference she didn't understand. We don't make love. This is just sex. And Lexie is the only one who holds the key to the rest.