In continuation to Part 2. Please read it for context.
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After all that had already happened, the next big thing was the firm’s annual party. Everyone was hyped, but I was nervous. Sania (my senior) had been messing with me all week. Out of nowhere she threw this idea at me—“Wouldn’t it be cute if Riya (my gf) and Gaurav (Riya’s boss) showed up twinning?”
At first I laughed it off, but the way she said it, teasing me, pressing me, I don’t know why… it gave me butterflies. Like I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t stop picturing it. She saw it in my face and just grinned. “Leave it to me,” she said.
On the night of the party, while getting ready, I suggested to Riya, “We should twin tonight—blue maybe? Would look nice together.” She brushed it off casually, slipping into this stunning black one-piece. “I don’t have that shade. Black works better,” she said. I didn’t think much—until we reached the party. Gaurav walked in later, in a perfectly tailored all-black suit. The match was too obvious to ignore. My stomach dropped. Sania’s smirk across the hall told me everything: this was planned.
The party rolled on—drinks, music, laughter. Later, Alina (my boss) and Sania dragged me into a bowling group, Riya tagging along, and soon Gaurav was pulled in too. Out of nowhere, Sania declared: “Let’s spice it up. Loser between Hritik and Gaurav does a dare.” The group cheered.
Everyone cracked up, half-drunk and egging it on. I wanted to laugh it away, but the energy caught on. Suddenly, it was serious: me vs. Gaurav. Frame after frame, I bowled okay, but the pressure and Sania whispering, “Lose. Don’t be stupid, just lose,” threw me off. Gaurav nailed his last throw, and the group erupted in cheers.
Sania immediately pounced: “There it is! Gaurav wins! Then Alina grinned and said, “ winner gets kissed by Riya!” The crowd laughed louder, a few colleagues said, “No, no, come on—that’s not right, she’s with Hritik.” My respect in the group stayed intact. People were only treating it as a drunk joke.
Gaurav himself tried to brush it off: “No, she’s taken. Let her kiss Hritik instead.” For a second, I thought I was spared, but that’s when Alina and Sania jumped in together. “Fine, if that’s how you want it, then Riya kisses Hritik. But only in the manner we decide.” The group laughed, thinking it was just drunken banter, and the moment passed.
A while later, Riya disappeared for some substantial amount of time. I assumed she went to freshen up, but then I saw her coming up the lift which took people to the parking lot. When she came back, everything shifted. Her hair was a little messed up, lipstick smudged, dress slightly wrinkled, a faint hickey on her neck. She walked straight up to me and kissed me hard. The second her lips touched mine, I froze. They were moist, almost wet—and as her tongue slipped in, I caught a salty taste, faint but undeniable. There was even a hint of something more—a transparent slickness I knew hadn’t come from her lipstick or the drinks.
And then, post the kiss, she opened her eyes, locked them onto mine, and winked. Not playful, not teasing—more like a quiet confession of what she had just done. While everyone cheered, she asked me saying “how does it taste? cuck” My body stiffened, my mind spun, and in that one look, I understood. It hit me what that “manner” actually meant.
The group around us just laughed and cheered, thinking it was all party drama. No one connected the dots. Except two. Alina sat back with her drink, smirking knowingly. Sania caught my eye across the table and smiled like she had just won.
And that was it. They didn’t need to say anything. I knew what had happened—and I knew they wanted me to know.
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