The Virgin's Denial

“Oh no, bitch, you need to tell me everything,” Chłöë said, linking her arm through mine and dragging me toward the plush white lounge chairs.

“You’re not getting out of this. You don’t just walk into a room with sex hair, bite marks on your chest, and confession-level guilt dripping from your pores without giving me the full plot.”

“Bite marks?” I choked. “What bite marks?!”

She smirked. “Don