<h4>Chapter 130: She Kissed Me</h4>


    But instead of judgement, or weird looks, that got a cheer. L told her to teach the two youngest sisters how to keep their legs closed.


    Five bottles of beer in, with sips of brandy here and there. Chayara’s inhibitions were draining. She was no longer nervous.


    She was Chayara Numero. Queen of the dance floor. Sovereign of shots.


    Sheughed until her sides hurt. She danced with Zara and Skye, doing ridiculous moves with zero coordination. She argued passionately with Nova about what being a feminist actually meant.


    Guy watched it all with a dazed sort of affection. His eyes never left her. When she stumbled, when she roared withughter, he looked proud.


    At some point in the night, Guy realized something was missing. Three someones to be exact. Nova, Juno, and Chayara. The trio had vanished like mischievous pixies, swept away by whatever cocktail-fueled adventure they could conjure. Guy stared at the blinking neon sign across the bar, trying to mentally retrace their steps but failing miserably because his own brain was floating somewhere in a brandy bottle. The room spun withughter and clinking sses, but his eyes were ssy with worry and the mild buzz of panic.


    He swayed on his stool and turned to L, the eldest of his six sisters, who sat nursing a beer.


    "She kissed me, you know," Guy said, his voice slurring slightly.


    L’s brow shot up. "No! You lucky bastard!"


    "Yeah... no... more like stupid."


    L leaned in, now deeply invested. "You didn’t kiss her back?"


    "I did..." He rubbed a hand across his face. "I liked it, Lo. I liked it and I want her to do it again. Like... repeatedly. Forever. Jesus, I’m so drunk." He looked like he was about to hug the table.


    L giggled, clearly enjoying his torment. "Wow! You kissed a Numero. That has to go down in our family’s history book. A Pique kissed a Numero."


    Guy groaned and tilted his head back. "Where the hell did they drag her off to?"


    L shrugged. "Don’t worry. She’s in safe hands. Unhinged hands, but safe nheless."


    Two hourster—yes, two whole hours, during which Guy had dozed off, woken up thinking he had dreamt everything, Nova, Juno, and Chay burst back into the bar.


    "We got tattoos!" Nova screamed, raising both arms.


    The table went into uproar. Even Skye, the supposed designated driver turned around from sipping her mojito.


    "Let me see!" L said, practically leaping over the table. "I thought you said you were afraid!"


    "I was," Nova said proudly, pulling her sleeve up to reveal a small butterfly inked into her wrist. "But Chay told me I could do it. And I did!"


    Guy’s head snapped up at that revtion.


    "Chay?" he croaked, his drunken haze parting at the sound of her name in connection with tattoos.


    Across the table, Chayara was in the process of sinking gracelessly into a chair. Her eyes were zed and dangerously close to rolling into her skull, her lipstick was slightly smudged. She managed a wobbly grin and raised one hand.


    "Si?" she slurred, with a little salute that made Guy’s heart stutter.


    "She got one too!" Juno said, with the explosive glee of a child snitching on a sibling mid-crime. Her voice rang out over the table.


    "What the what now?"


    He nced at L as if she could confirm this was just an borate prank cooked up by mischievous Pique sisters. But L was already leaning in with morbid curiosity, beer bottle clutched like a microphone.


    "On her boobs!" Juno added, delighted to escte the situation.


    Guy shot up straighter, his buzz now tinged with the aftershock of rm. "Okay...I did not need to know that!" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. His heart was doing some kind of drum solo in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the tattoo... or the boobs...or the alcohol. Probably all of the above.


    Then came the final blow.


    "Wanna see?" Chay asked with a dazed sparkle in her eye.


    Guy didn’t even have time to yell "No!" before she tugged her shirt downward with a triumphant flourish that probably felt sexy in her head but, to onlookers, was more like a drunken magic trick. The bar’s neon lights cast a colorful glow over the scene—purple and pink shadows dancing across her skin.


    Her shirt dipped just low enough to expose the upper swell of one breast. Not enough for a scandal, but enough to fry every coherent thought in Guy’s head.


    The skin there was flushed and tender, the way fresh tattoos always were. But it wasn’t the exposed flesh that stopped him cold. It wasn’t even the inappropriate timing or the fact that the entire Pique n had front-row seats to this debacle.


    It was the tattoo itself.


    "Oh, you are so going to regret this in the morning," Guy groaned. "Really?"


    He turned to his sisters, wide-eyed and aghast.


    "How could you let her get this tattooed permanently on her?"


    L snorted into her drink,pletely unbothered. "It’s kinda iconic, though."


    "The artist asked her what she wanted. She said a dick."


    Guy turned slowly. "Good lord." He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a groan so deep it might have summoned spirits from the underworld.


    L snorted withughter and nearly spilled thest drops of her margarita.


    Guy turned to her, wide-eyed, dragging a hand down his face. "L, could you call us an Uber before she makes more bad decisions and I end up in jail? Two people will definitelye for me; her father or her uncle."


    "Or both," L added brightly, already opening the app on her phone. "And if it’s her uncle, I’ll start nning your funeral. Closed casket."


    Guy let out a ragged sigh, watching Chay now trying to bnce an imaginary crown on her head using a cocktail umbre she’d stolen from someone’s drink. The crown kept falling off. She keptughing.


    He was doomed.


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