In which Lucas Sinclair's older sister spends her whole summer trying to tame Billy Hargrove.
NSFW: 18+ only
Contains Dark themes and sexual content that may not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Read at your own risk-this essentially is...
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Chapter Twenty-Six: Evil Never Dies
"Look who's here to grace us with her presence," Steve calls out from behind the sticky countertop, one hand still full of wrapped ice cream cones waiting to be refilled after hours of young kids equipped with their parents money waited in line for a scoop or two of rocky road. The sarcasm in his tone doesn't match the work uniform he sports; navy blue shirt that's just a size too big and a pair of matching shorts that seem to be a size too small judging by the way they sit high on the toned muscle of his thighs. "Hargrove finally let you up for air?"
Zara's eyes roll in response, sending a friendly wave to the pretty girl greeting customers in a similar uniform as Steve.
Robin was her name and it was printed in bold white letters on the small red tag pinned to the left chest of her stripped Scoops Ahoy shirt. Zara had met her a few times before, an easy friendship blossoming over the endless teasing at Steve Harrington's expense. "He's just jealous because he's been flirting all day and failing miserably," She offers easily, her tone raspy as she adjusted the sailors hat that nestled in shoulder length, light brown hair. "We've been keeping score and the odds aren't looking up."
"King Steve," Sinclair begins, leaning up against the counter with a growing smile. "—gone but never forgotten."
Harrington trudged forward with a huff, pointing between both women slowly. "I don't like the two of you when you get together." His words have little weight behind them, his hands busied creating the usual ice cream concoction Zara begs for every time she comes around.
Black cherry and caramel swirl with more sprinkles than necessary on top.
"Don't fret, Harrington. I was just here to drop the kids off," Zara mumbled out over the large spoonful of ice cream, crunching the sprinkles between her teeth and flicking a stray off her shirt as she stepped back. Her arms were tucked on her hips, waist swinging obnoxiously when she did a spin to showcase her new outfit.
Robin nods in approval, letting out a wolf-whistle as she was unable to deny that the acid-washed denim shorts Zara wore seemed to fit in all the right places and the royal purple, thinly strapped shirt was doing Zara many favors. It dipped low at the chest and ran see through just above the bellybutton, the thin material stopping where the zipper of her shorts began. "Date night?" Buckley prods, nudging Steve in the ribs when his gaze lingers a moment too long on the snake tattoo that's peeking over the waistband of Zara's shorts.
"Is it too much?"
"Not enough, if you're asking me."
"Says you, Harrington." Zara scoffs, hands still rested sassily on her hips as she regarded her best friend. "How are your tiny little shorts even within dress code? Bend over a little too far and your beach balls are hanging out for the world to see."
