FIFTY-NINE

Billie

"SO DID YOU just have that in your closet?" Taylor gawks, her wide blue eyes following the swoosh and wave of Maria's dress for her "La Isla Bonita" Madonna costume.

Maria does a couple more cha-chas and twirls, the movements pulling on Taylor's eyes like a cat's on the dot of a laser beam. Then Maria fans out the lower half of the red salsa dress, showing off her long lean legs in black fishnet stockings. She tosses Taylor a saucy smile. "Girl, you just never know when you'll need the exact opposite of the simple black dress."

Pushing off my old bed—yeah, I've accepted this is no longer my room—I step over to look at her hair, which is also done up like Madonna's from the video. "Damn, Maria!" I grin, turning her around and inspecting the hairnet with braids and large flower. "You did amazing with the hair too."

She spins to Heather and bows in prayer. "My wonderfully talented roommate did my hair."

Heather fakes embarrassment with a hand on her chest and a weak-wristed air slap of oh stop. "Don't embarrass me. It wasn't hard, and I, like Billie, just needed to crimp mine and put a headband in."

You think Merry's going to get any ideas with that costume?" Taylor wonders aloud with a teasing lilt to her voice as she wiggles her way into her dress.

Heather looks down at her outfit. Fanning out the white lace tulle of her corseted short wedding dress and tracing her fingers over the belt, she questions, "What, that I want to get married or that I'm a boy toy?"

Plopping back down on the spare bed and staring at the ceiling, I muse, "Can't a boy toy also want to get married?"

Heather shocks me by prowling over and threading her fingers into my crimped hair. She brings her lips to my ear and purrs, "Maybe I want to only be his boy toy."

I gasp and pull away, wide eyes staring at her, and she just winks. "Heather!" I grin with excitement. "You got something planned for tonight?"

She stands up and shimmies a shoulder. "Maybe. Maybe seeing my normally reserved friend become more comfortable with her own PDA has inspired me a little."

"Hell yeah, girl!" Maria cheers, clapping her hands above her head. "I'm all for it, Billie. With all the attention Xander's getting now, being laid back about it won't work. You need to be seen with them by all."

Obviously Little Fox's head perks right up at Maria's statement. She arches a brow and gives me a smug-ass smile. See, Wilhelmina, even your friends want you to rut them in front of everyone. I let it drop because there's no way I'm getting into a mental argument with her over the difference between being more affectionate and rutting in public. Rutting sounds so... okay, it sounds kind of hot.

Maria's eyes glide over to Annabelle, who's finishing up her makeup in front of the mirror over Taylor's secondary desk. The snug burgundy velvet slip dress Annabelle has on accentuates her curves and trim waist. Paired with her russet-brown curls, she's nailed the look from the "Like a Prayer" video. Maria gestures to her and says with sultriness in her voice, "Annabelle over here has no problem letting everyone know who she's with."

I catch sight of Annabelle's cheeks blushing in the reflection in the mirror while she applies eyeliner above her lips to look like the mole Madonna had back then. "Yeah, well," she says, her mouth curling into a knowing smile when her eyes meet mine in the mirror. "Like Billie's men, Assad and Heydar have a large female following, and if I need to post some workout videos with them, so be it."

"Workout videos where you're dripping with sweat in a tiny sports bra and an equally tiny pair of booty shorts while they spot you, and ogle you," Taylor, stepping out from behind the closet door, clarifies with an opened-mouth smile. "Annabelle, you could be a fitness model in those videos, and the way they look at you. . ." She fans herself with her pink fan that's part of her "Material Girl" costume. "Love. They look at you with love, lust, and adoration."

Seeing my friend, my captain, who only months ago spoke of her lack of hope in finding her true-mate, now with them, warms my heart, and my face hurts from the width of my smile. She's a good person—a caring, considerate, dependable, and strong person who deserves and appreciates the love she's found. Annabelle's eyes become shiny, and she waves a hand in front of her face. "Yes, I look at them that way too." She puffs out a breath. "No more talk of this because I refuse to mess up this makeup."

"I'm just wondering if this multiple-men-to-one-woman thing is going to be a trend," Maria ponders while setting up Nalgene bottles on Taylor's primary desk and pulling out a handle of vodka along with bottles of cranberry juice and diet ginger ale.

"Why? You thinking of talking to Stefan about adding someone?" I tease. Pulling the tags off the black lace and mesh bustier I bought for tonight, I step behind the door to my old closet. Teasing or not, I wouldn't put it past Maria to bring up adding another partner to her relationship if that's what she wanted.

Maria giggles. "Girl, no. But I think he's worried about it and is trying to show me he's got the stamina of multiple men."

Having stripped off my white T-shirt, I start fighting with the bustier, trying and failing to latch the hook and eye clasps. Peeking my head out, I plead, "Can one of you help me with these clasps?"

Taylor shuffles over in her tight, long hot-pink satin dress. She gives me the air finger twirl, and I turn around for her. "Are you going to be able to climb in for the hayride in that dress?" I inquire, glancing over my shoulder at Taylor while her fingers make quick work of the over dozen tiny eye hooks.

"I have no idea, but we'll figure it out. All set," she says patting me on the shoulder, only to grip it and sweep my hair out of the way. "I don't remember you having these marks before," she observes, her fingers tracing over the scars from Xander's second bitemark.

"Well, they're pretty scarred over and white. Can be easily missed," I reply while shrugging out of her hold and turning around to hide the mark from her touch. I don't like anyone touching my marks, that one in particular. It's like that mark only likes Xander touching it. But that doesn't deter her, because I have more marks, and her eyes land on the one from Ethan on my chest. Her brows dip down, and her hand lifts to touch it. Gently snatching up her fingers, I say "Taylor, they've been there for a while. You can tell by how scarred over they are."

She leans in, inspecting Ethan's, and sighs. "Yeah. They're bleached out."

Sliding past Taylor, I lift my chin to Maria. "So, does Stefan have the stamina of multiple men?"

She finishes twisting the last cap on our to-go cocktails and glances over her shoulder at me. "Oh yeah he does," she affirms with a wink.

"I can attest to that," Heather chirps with a raised hand. "You know, being her roommate and all."

Maria looks at the time and starts handing out our drinks. "On that note, let's get downstairs. Stefan will be here in five minutes." When she hands me mine, her eyes go wide—like, really wide—taking in my top.

"What's wrong" I nervously ask, looking down at my clothes.

Maria marches me over to the mirror on the back of the closet door. "Your titties," she proclaims pointing at my reflection. "Billie, I can see your areolas."

"Huh, it didn't look this see-through online," I comment trying to sound calm while my face heats up. Hastily grabbing my other package, I quickly tear into it and throw on the military-style crop jacket with a pyramid design on the back. "There, I just won't take off the jacket" I assert, pulling the front together. The lapels barely meet and— great there are no buttons or clasps.

"It'll be dark," Heather says, stepping behind me and ripping off the tags that I forgot about in my rush to cover up.

"Right, it'll be fine," I assure myself while pulling on my metal-studded ankle boots that stand out with the cropped olive-green dress pants for my "Desperately Seeking Susan"–inspired costume.

Maria taps the top of my Nalgene bottle with a red-painted fingernail. "Drink this and don't take off the jacket. You'll be okay."

* * *

"Are you feckin' kidding me?" I blurt out through a gaping mouth, staring at the guys as they stroll over to us.

When Stefan picked us up at the dorms, he was wearing a long jacket and refused to remove it or give us any hints as to what was hidden underneath. Once we parked in the field for the haunted hayride, he tossed his keys to Maria and hopped out of the car, calling out over his shoulder that he and the guys would meet us at the entrance.

Now my eyes are bulging seeing the five of them strut toward us in their team costumes. They're all dressed in white: white sneakers, white socks, white athletic tights with white soccer shorts over them, tight white athletic long-sleeves, and white skullcaps. I can see some sort of design or emblem on the left chest of the shirt that reminds me of tadpoles. When they turn around and show us their backs, I realize it's not tadpoles. Definitely not tadpoles. There in bold black lettering is their team's name, in all caps.

"THE FALLOPIAN SWIM TEAM!" Maria cries out with glee.

I'm bent over dying from laughter, wheezing, and cheering, "Bloody brilliant!" I nudge Heather and gasp. "Pretty hot sperm, huh?"

Heather's mouth is stretched into a wide toothy smile, and she nods. "So hot." Her brows crease in thought. "Though I don't know how I feel about a bearded sperm."

Merry hears her on his approach. Raising his brows and waggling his thumbs at his puffed-out chest, he says, "Mature sperm, Heather. This sperm is mature and knows his way around."

Heather's nose scrunches up. "Are you saying you're an old man whore of a sperm? Because that's what it sounds like."

"He means dignified," Jax clarifies with a wink, slinging an arm around Merry's shoulders. "He's a dignified sperm, with very... discerning tastes, yea."

Merry pauses for a second then bobs his head and slants a smile. "Yeah, what Jax said."