fuck him.

trust Cate, her mind was too clouded to care about Luke. Sure, this was wrong, fucking with you was wrong. I mean, you're her friend---to Luke; known as a 'close childhood friend'. Ironic really, with the innocent lil cover she had for you, that Jordan, Andre, and Luke believed; just for that innocence of a figure in her life to be the most secret of one there.

Just a casual thing, 'just friends with....benfits or something,' the blonde claimed everytime your throat would erupt with the sole question; "cate, what are we?" it was everytime because God... if you knew how much Cate despised that question from those pretty lips you had, you would go crazy too. She has you, no--your not hers, but she has you.

the sound of a party erupted from the base level of some party in a frat house that cate could not give a singular shit who belonged to, booming with bass and even more with drunk college kids. Her (gloved) hands were all over you, roaming as if she had found new land. Even if that land was her's already. Your pretty head tilted back, eyes fluttered shut--- holy, fuck....did you know how gorgeous you looked in a daze?----you were drunk, and by guess probably on some of Andre's edibles. A soft "cate..." erupted ever so smoothly from your pouty, eager lips.

At that, her eyes peered up, goodness; she wanted these gloves off so.fucking.bad.