Taking my cousin to a party

The car hummed beneath us as I navigated the dark roads, the low thrum of the tires filling the silence between us. I hadn’t said much since we pulled away from her house, but I’m still trying to process how exactly I had ended up here.

Her mother had all but pushed her out the door, insisting she needed a night out, oblivious that the party I had been invited to wasn’t exactly the kind of place you took your cousin to as a favor to your aunt.

I shot a glance at Samantha from the corner of my eye. The streetlights flickered across her face, tracing the sharp curve of her jaw and the high cheekbones that made her look almost untouchable. She turned to look at me, her lips parting slightly as though she could feel me watching her. I forced my eyes back to the road. I had to tell her.

“You know this isn’t a regular party, right?” My voice came out rougher than I intended.

She sighed and shifted in the passenger seat, the smooth fabric of her dress slipping higher up her thighs. Blue. The dress was a deep, royal blue, the kind that made her pale skin glow in the dim light. Tight around her stomach. Low-cut. A pleated skirt that faired at the slightest turn of her body. A dress meant to be noticed.

“I figured that out when you avoided telling my mom the details.” Sam crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up slightly. “What kind of party is it, then?”

I gripped the wheel tighter. “It’s… a swinger’s party.”

Silence. I risked another glance. Her brows lifted, but there wasn’t shock on her face. Just curiosity.

“Like… people trade partners?” She asked.

“Yeah. And they play games. Some get pretty… hands-on.”

Her lips twitched, almost like she was amused. “So, I take it you weren’t planning on bringing your cousin? How many of these have you been to?”

“Obviously not and this is my first.” I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “Look, we can still turn around. Dinner, a movie, normal stuff. You don’t have to go just because your mom pushed you out the door.”

She hesitated, staring out the windshield, lost in thought. I knew what she was thinking about. Her husband. The fight. How he had looked at her tonight like she was broken like the reason they weren’t conceiving was somehow her fault. He had refused to get himself checked.

She exhaled sharply and shook her head. “No. Let’s go.”

I frowned. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Her voice had an edge to it, something sharp and reckless. “I want to have fun.”

I wasn’t sure if “fun” was the right word for where we were headed, but I nodded and turned onto the next road, letting the decision settle. Silence stretched between us again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged. Maybe it was the tension from her fight. Or that I had nearly punched him when he blamed her. Maybe it was my own distraction, my own recent breakup still fresh in my mind, the way my ex had said she never really felt passion with me. Or maybe it was her perfume, a soft, sweet scent that made me want to lean in, to bury my face against her neck just to breathe her in.

I swallowed hard. It wasn’t helping that her dress clung to every curve, the neckline dipping just enough to draw my eyes lower before I could stop myself. I adjusted my position in the seat, shifting my legs slightly. Shit. Not now. Not her.

I focused on the road and the distant glow of the house in the hills. Tonight was going to be a mistake. I just didn’t know how big of one yet.

The gravel crunched under the tires as I pulled into the long driveway, the glow of the house ahead spilling through the trees. Cars lined the property, some parked haphazardly, others neatly tucked against the edge of the lot. The place was packed.

I killed the engine and sat back, gripping the steering wheel as I let out a slow breath. For a moment, neither of us moved. I glanced at her. She was staring at the house, fingers drumming against her knee, her expression unreadable. The light from the porch cast a soft glow across her skin, making her black hair gleam like silk, her blue eyes sharp and thoughtful.

We had grown up together. After the crash after her dad, after my parents, we had become each other’s world. Same house, same memories. We weren’t just cousins; we were like siblings. And now we were here. At a place where, in a few minutes, she might strip down and spread her legs for someone in front of me. I shifted in my seat, a strange heat crawling up my spine.

“Are you sure about this?” My voice was lower than I intended.

Sam finally turned to me, her lips curving slightly. “You’re still thinking about it, huh?”

“About what?”

“Whether you’ll see me with someone tonight.”

I stiffened, caught.

She laughed, soft and almost bitter. “You’re acting like I haven’t thought the same thing about you.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I changed the subject.

“You’ve been on all those fertility treatments,” I said. “With all the hormones in your system, this is risky. You know that, right?”

Her smile faded. For a second, I thought I saw something flicker behind her eyes, hesitation, maybe. But then she squared her shoulders and tossed her hair back, her chin lifting slightly.

“I’m not ovulating if that’s what you’re worried about.” Her voice was casual, dismissive. “Besides, I didn’t come here to overthink things.”

I searched her face, but she was already pushing the door open, stepping into the night like she belonged there.