Chapter 3

Calvin slid his car into a parking spot, the engine purring to a stop. Sia watched him emerge, the streetlight glinting off his broad shoulders, and paused before opening her own door. Play it cool, she told herself. She tapped out a quick text to John:

S- Just getting to the restaurant. Will fill you in later.

The casual tone, the kiss—a carefully constructed facade. She inhaled deeply, the night air a mix of city exhaust and anticipation, and stepped onto the pavement.

She took a deep breath. Casual, that’s what she needed to be. Just two old friends catching up over a casual dinner...

“Isn’t it a bit hot for such a long coat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It was a bit chilly in the office,” she offered, a faint smile playing on her lips as she unbuttoned the coat, letting it fall open.

Beneath, the tiny white tank top, a riot of miniature flowers, clung to her curves. The deep V neckline dipped precariously, the hem riding high above her waist, revealing a sliver of smooth skin. The tiny silk top, did little to disguise the swell of her breasts. The plunging neckline, secured by three delicate buttons that seemed to mock her sudden attack of nerves, dipped dangerously close to her bra, a sliver of lace visible at the edges.

The matching miniskirt hugged her hips and thighs, the fabric whispering against her legs with every move. She might as well have shown up with a “Look at me, remember this?” banner.

A low whistle escaped Calvin’s lips. “Damn, Sia.”

“You like it?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, a nervous flutter in her chest. Instinctively, she took a step back and spun, the skirt flaring around her thighs—a playful gesture, a ghost of their college days. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she stopped, suddenly self-conscious.

It had been a game between them back in college – her showing off a new outfit, his unabashed appreciation.

“Like it?” His lips curved into a slow grin. “Sia, you look smoking hot.”

For a heartbeat, the air crackled between them, charged with something more potent than simple nostalgia. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the heat in his gaze shifted, replaced by something softer, more knowing.

“Isn’t that...”

“Sophomore year,” Sia supplied, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Yeah, it’s the one I wore to that ... thing.” God, she couldn’t even remember what it was for. Some stupid party, probably.

“Oh yeah.” And then it clicked for him, too. His smile widened, a dangerous glint replacing the earlier amusement. “The fundraiser,” he murmured, his eyes meeting hers. “The one where I snuck you into the lab later and...”

... and fucked the living daylights out of me. The thought echoed in Sia’s mind, a phantom sensation between her legs. Out loud, she just managed a breathless, “Yeah.”

“You ... still kept it.”

“Oh, this old thing?” Sia feigned nonchalance. “It’s been ... hiding in my closet for years. I don’t even know why. Guess I haven’t gotten around to throwing out all my old junk.”

“Why?”

“Come on, it’s not like I can even fit into this little thing anymore.”

“You fit just fine,” he contradicted, his eyes raking over her body with open appreciation. “You still look pretty damn amazing in it.”

She managed a shaky laugh, but inside, she was unraveling faster than she could keep up.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of here. Food’s waiting, and ... I have a feeling we’ve got a lot to catch up on.” But as he turned, he paused and looked at her again, “Wait a second ... wasn’t there a bet about this dress?”

Sia frowned, searching her memory. “A bet?”

“Don’t you remember?”

She shook her head.

“The Kappa Sig party. You lost. Badly.”

A hazy memory surfaced—cheap beer, loud music, a ridiculous dare involving tequila shots, and a limbo contest. Oh, and a bet. “Oh God,” Sia groaned. “I ... I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Oh, I remember a lot of things. Especially when it involves you and that dress. Do you remember the stakes?”

Sia racked her brain, the details blurry with time.

He leaned closer, his warm breath tickling her ear. “Whenever you wore that dress...” he paused, “ ... you weren’t supposed to wear any panties.”

Her freckled cheeks turned crimson. She had forgotten. Completely. “Y-Yeah, well, that was ... a weird time wasn’t it?” She stammered. “We made a lot of silly bets back then.”

“Sure did,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So ... are you going to honor it?”

“Calvin, that was ages ago!” Sia said, putting her hands on her hips. “We were practically kids.”

“So?” he countered, taking a step closer. “A bet’s a bet. You know the rules.”

She took a step back, putting a little more distance between them, her pulse quickening with something she didn’t quite understand. Annoyance? Excitement? Both? “Come on, Calvin,” she protested. “We were drunk. And it was, like, a million years ago.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Please, don’t make this weird,” she crossed her arms defensively. “We’re not in college anymore. Things are different now.”

He shrugged, nonchalant. “Sure, things are different. But some things, Sia,” he paused, looking her up and down, “Some things never change.”

“This is ridiculous!” she hissed, glancing around nervously to make sure no one was within earshot.

“Why not?” he challenged stepping closer again, closing the distance between them.

He was close now, uncomfortably close, his cologne a heady mix of spice and something distinctly masculine.

“You’re impossible!”She tried to maintain her composure, but the heat in her face betrayed her. “You know it was just a stupid, drunken—”

“And yet,” he countered, a smirk playing on his lips, “you’re wearing the dress.”

A strange mixture of annoyance and defiance coursed through her. He always had this effect on her—pushing her buttons, testing her limits. She had almost forgotten what it felt like. “So what? It’s a dress! I can wear what I want.”

“Sure you can,” Calvin agreed, his voice smooth as silk. “But you’re a woman of your word, aren’t you, Sia? I seem to recall you saying you never back down from a bet. Has that changed?”

Damn him. He knew exactly what buttons to push.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Sia. She remembered those reckless college days, the stupid bets, the risqué challenges, the endless laughter. A part of her, a long-dormant part, yearned to revisit that carefree time, even if just for a fleeting moment. But things were different. They weren’t those carefree kids anymore. I’m a married woman now. “Things aren’t the same. This ... this is inappropriate.”

“So you’re backing out? After all that talk about being a woman of her word?”

“No! I ... uhh...”

He’s doing it again. He’d always been like this—manipulative, pushing her boundaries, coaxing her out of her comfort zone. Coaxing out the wilder side she kept carefully hidden beneath a veneer of polite compliance. He’d always seen through her, even back then.

It was exciting, terrifying, and utterly inappropriate.

Am I really backing out? One part of her, the sensible, responsible adult part, screamed for her to walk away, to end this ridiculous encounter before it went any further. But another part, a part she’d kept locked away for years, pulsed with a dangerous curiosity.

“Come on, Sia,” he coaxed gently. “Just for old time’s sake. Let the old Sia out, just for tonight.”

The words struck a chord. The old Sia. The girl who was unapologetically herself. The girl she’d almost forgotten. She hesitated, biting her lip, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Just a little tease, she reasoned, her mind grasping at any semblance of justification. A little harmless fun, for old-time’s sake.

Taking a deep breath, Sia glanced nervously around the near-empty parking lot. The thought of being seen sent a shiver of fear down her spine ... but beneath it, a flicker of excitement.

With a trembling hand, she slowly slid her panties down her legs, the silky fabric cool against her skin. She held them out to him, her hand shaking slightly.

A flash of surprise crossed Calvin’s face before it was quickly replaced with a smug smirk. He loved this—the shy blush on her cheeks, the flicker of defiance in her eyes. Sia had always been a fascinating mix of innocence and wildness. He pocketed the delicate lace, the warmth of her skin still lingering on the fabric. The night is just getting started.

“There’s still something not quite ... right,” he murmured, tilting his head as he studied her.

“What now?” Sia asked, the thrill giving way to annoyance. Was he ever going to let this go?

He just smirked. “Let me fix that for you.”

Before she could protest, he reached out and deftly unbuttoned the top three buttons of her cami, the silk parting to reveal the full swell of her breasts.

The sudden coolness of the night air against her exposed cleavage made her gasp, her nipples hardening beneath the thin lace of her bra.

“Calvin!”

He chuckled, clearly pleased with his handiwork. Her cleavage, now on full display, was deep and inviting, the swell of her breasts straining against the delicate lace. The soft curve of her flesh glowed in the dim light.

“There ... much better,” he purred, taking a step back to admire his work.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” She muttered, cheeks flaming as she instinctively reached up to pull the edges of her top together.

He caught her hand. “Do you want me to?”

The question hung in the air, thick with unspoken meaning.

A challenge. A dare.

Sia didn’t answer. Instead, she arched her back slightly, pushing her breasts further into the light, the valley between them deepening. “Happy now?”

Calvin’s eyes raked over her exposed skin, a slow, deliberate caress that made her shiver with a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal. He smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes.

“For now,” he said, finally releasing her hands and turning towards the restaurant entrance.

She stood there for a moment, heart pounding against her ribs, the cool night air a stark contrast to the burning awareness in her gut. She caught her reflection in the car window – flushed cheeks, disheveled face, her dress hanging open... I look like a tramp.

Idiot, she berated herself. You let him manipulate you, again. But the thrill of the transgression, the forbidden nature of their exchange, was a potent drug.

With Calvin, control had always been an illusion, a fragile construct easily shattered by a look, a touch, a whispered word.

She took a deep breath, adjusting her top – not quite covering herself, not quite not covering herself – and followed him into the restaurant, steeling herself for the rest of the evening - determined to maintain at least a semblance of control.

The place was buzzing, a mix of after-work crowds and couples on date night. Navigating through the throng of people, Sia felt a heightened awareness of her appearance – the way the thin silk of her top grazed her skin, the almost scandalous length of her skirt. Do we look like a couple? she mused wryly, suddenly hyper-aware of the stares they were attracting.

He, of course, looked perfectly at ease, his broad shoulders and effortless stride cutting a path through the crowd as if he owned the place.

They stepped into the crowded elevator, and instantly, she was pressed against him, the heat of his body a solid presence against her back. For a fleeting moment, memories flooded back – the press of his body against hers, the way his hands had roamed...

Stop it, Sia. She shook her head, trying to dispel the images, but the phantom sensation of his touch lingered, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the stuffy elevator air.

They emerged into a dimly lit hallway, the air thick with the scent of incense and something exotic she couldn’t quite place. Calvin disappeared through a narrow doorway, returning moments later with two small glasses filled with a clear liquid.

“Table should be ready soon,” he said, handing her one of the glasses. “Try this.”

“What is it?” Sia asked, wrinkling her nose at the sharp scent.

“Ya Dong. Traditional Thai ... recipe.”

She took a tentative sip, the taste even more unusual than the smell – a strange mix of sweet, sour, bitter, and something almost ... tingly on her tongue.

“It’s ... interesting,” she managed, making a face.

He chuckled. “Acquired taste.”

A waiter appeared, leading them through a beaded curtain into a dimly lit alcove. The space was intimate, separated from the main dining area by tall woven screens, the air filled with the murmur of hushed conversations and the clinking of glasses.

Sia slid into the plush booth, smoothing her skirt over her thighs, hyper-aware of how short it was, how much skin she was showing.

Calvin settled beside her, his arm casually draped over the back of the booth, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of her shoulder.

The casual intimacy of the gesture, the warmth of his body so close to hers ... she let out a small, shaky breath, praying her sudden nervousness didn’t show on her face.

Just play it cool. It’s just dinner, Sia. Just dinner with an old ... friend.

“How did you find this place?” She asked, glancing around the dimly lit alcove, taking in the intricate carvings on the wooden panels and the soft glow of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

“One of my clients recommended it. Been here a few times. Good food, even better ... atmosphere.”

“It’s ... cozy,” she agreed, already making a mental note to bring John here sometime. Though maybe not in this outfit.

He chuckled, his fingers trailing lightly down her bare arm, making her shiver. “Cozy is one way to put it.”

Their conversation flowed easily, a comfortable rhythm of shared memories and everyday anecdotes. They talked about work, mutual friends, the mundane details of their lives.

“What are you up to these days?” Calvin asked. “Besides the office, I mean.”

Sia felt a flutter low in her belly as his hand settled on her knee beneath the table. She took a deep breath, forcing her voice to remain steady. “I’ve been ... volunteering at the community center down the street. We work with kids, mostly. After-school programs, art classes, that kind of thing.”

“Interesting,” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her knee. His touch was feather-light, agonizingly distracting.