There were two Julies.
The one who loved blindly, deeply, and with no exit plan.
And the one standing in front of her mirror now—wearing a fitted tank, lip gloss that shimmered like sin, and a cold look in her eyes that said: You can't break what no longer feels.
She ran a hand through her curls and gave herself a smirk. The good girl died a long time ago. And his name was Miguel.
---
Then.
Julie was twenty-one when she thought she'd met her forever.
Miguel had a lazy smile and fast hands. He called her "mi reina" and made her laugh until her stomach hurt. He sent flowers, showed up on rainy days with hot cocoa, and looked her in the eye when he kissed her like she was the only girl in the world.
Except… she wasn't.
She wasn't the only girl he kissed. Or the only one who got sweet words and late-night attention. She was just the only one who believed it meant something.
Julie found out slowly. One lie unraveling after another. Girls DMing her screenshots. Hushed whispers at campus parties. And then, finally, she caught him. With her own eyes.
His tongue down someone else's throat.
His hands where hers used to be.
And the worst part? He didn't even look guilty. He just said, "It didn't mean anything, babe. Don't ruin what we have."
What we had?
Julie gave him loyalty. Patience. Love. She trusted him when everyone else told her not to. She forgave him the first time. The second. The third.
By the fourth?
She snapped.
---
Now.
Julie locked the flashback away like an old text she'd deleted but still remembered word for word.
Miguel taught her one thing: Love makes you weak. Men take what they want.
So now?
She took first.
Julie didn't date. She didn't dream. She didn't hope. She flirted. She fooled. She forgot.
Her phone buzzed.
Elias.
> "Still not talking to me?"
She smirked. It had been two days since their kiss. Since she let him get a taste, then pulled away like it was just Tuesday.
Julie walked to the window and peeked across the small courtyard. There he was—watering the plants on his tiny porch. Shirtless.
Tempting. But too easy.
She sent him a selfie—no words, just her with a glass of wine, looking unbothered.
Five seconds later, he looked up. Their eyes met through the glass. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but all he did was nod.
Julie blew him a kiss.
Let him chase.
Let him wonder.
Let him want.
---
Later that evening, she decided to step out. Small towns didn't offer much, but there was a cute outdoor café with decent wine and passable music. She wore an off-shoulder crop top, flared jeans, and a strut that stopped conversations.
And that's where she saw her.
Curled up in the far corner, drink in hand, legs crossed like a magazine cover—was a girl with bouncy curls, shimmery skin, and a mischievous grin.
Julie didn't know her name yet, but she was trouble. The good kind.
Their eyes met.
"Love your top," the girl said with a wink. "You give main character energy."
Julie walked over and smiled. "And you give pretty girl chaos."
The girl laughed. "Then we're going to get along so well."
---
They talked. For two hours. No awkward pauses, just sass, sarcasm, and flirty energy bouncing between them like a tennis match.
Her name was Raye.
New to town. Freelance makeup artist. No filter. No shame. And definitely no interest in boring conversations.
"I don't do subtle," Raye said, sipping her mojito. "I flirt, I leave, I slay. That's the mantra."
Julie clinked her glass against hers. "You just summed up my religion."
Raye leaned closer. "Men in this town either fall in love or fall apart. There's no in-between."
Julie smirked. "Then let's make a few fall for sport."
"Oh," Raye grinned. "We're going to be dangerous together."
---
As they walked out of the café later, giggling like old friends, Julie spotted a familiar figure leaning against a nearby car.
Elias.
Casual button-down. Hands in his pockets. The same slow-burn stare he always gave her—like he wanted to know what she was thinking and why it made him nervous.
Julie didn't slow her pace.
"Evening, Elias," she called as she passed.
He turned. "You were ignoring me."
"I was busy," she said with a shrug. "Still am."
His eyes dropped to Raye, then back to Julie. "You look…"
"Hot?" she offered, grinning.
"Distracting," he finished.
Julie stepped closer, her hand brushing his chest lightly. "That's kind of my thing."
Elias tilted his head. "You always play games, Julie?"
"Only with people who play back."
He stepped forward, voice low. "You left me hanging the other night."
"I like suspense," she whispered, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt. "Don't you?"
Elias's jaw tightened. "What if I want more?"
Julie leaned in, lips grazing his cheek—not a kiss, just a promise. "Then you'll have to earn it."
She stepped back and smiled at Raye. "Coming?"
Raye, who had been watching like it was her favorite soap opera, gave Elias a slow once-over and said, "He's cute. You gonna share?"
Julie winked. "Depends on how bored I get."
They walked off, leaving Elias standing there, speechless.
---
Later, at Julie's apartment, the two girls sat on the floor in tank tops and shorts, sharing a bag of cookies and old gossip.
"So... Elias," Raye grinned. "That man wants you bad."
Julie stretched. "I know."
"And you kissed him already?"
Julie nodded. "Once. To shut him up."
Raye gasped dramatically. "Girl! I love you."
Julie laughed for real—maybe for the first time in weeks. It felt good. Light.
"So, what's the story?" Raye asked. "Why don't you want anything serious? You're clearly the type men obsess over."
Julie sipped her wine and stared at the ceiling for a moment.
Then, softly: "I was in love. Once."
Raye leaned in, suddenly serious.
"He lied. He cheated. More than once. I gave him everything—time, trust, sex, love. He gave pieces of me to everyone else."
Raye didn't speak.
"I kept forgiving him because I thought that's what love meant. Loyalty. Patience. Fixing things."
Julie looked down at her glass.
"Turns out, it just made me easier to break."
Silence.
Then Raye reached over and held her hand.
"You're not broken," she said. "You just stopped letting people touch the parts they don't deserve."
Julie looked up.
And smiled.
Maybe for the first time... someone got it...
It was official.
Julie and Raye weren't just friends—they were a storm. The type that stirred up gossip just by existing in the same room. In just one week, they had become the small town's favorite problem.
Late-night dancing. Walks in silk robes. Flirting in broad daylight.
They didn't apologize. They didn't explain.
They just… were.
---
That Wednesday afternoon, Julie wasn't home. She'd gone out to restock her wine rack and maybe flirt with the hot cashier for the fun of it. Raye stayed behind, lounging on the living room couch in Julie's cropped tee and satin shorts, flipping through a fashion magazine with one leg draped over the backrest.
Then came the knock.
Three sharp taps.
Raye glanced toward the door. She wasn't expecting anyone.
She opened it.
Tariq.
His eyes raked over her outfit before his lips curved into a slow, lazy smile.
"You're not Julie," he said.
"No," Raye replied, smiling sweetly. "But I'm prettier."
He laughed. "Is she home?"
Raye leaned on the doorframe. "Nope."
"I'll wait."
She tilted her head. "That's bold for someone who wasn't invited."
Tariq stepped inside anyway, his gaze cocky. "We've met before, right?"
"Mmm," Raye hummed, walking around him like a cat. "You're the one she used to toy with."
"Used to?" he asked, his brow arching.
Raye's eyes sparkled. "You still think you're in the game?"
He stepped closer. "You wanna play too?"
Raye didn't flinch. She let him get close. Too close.
She looked up at him through her lashes, her voice a near-whisper. "You ever touch me without permission, I'll break your fingers."
He blinked.
Then she pushed him—hard.
He stumbled backward toward the door. She opened it.
"Get out, sweetie," she said. "Julie's not into reruns. And I don't babysit leftovers."
Tariq stood there, blinking. Then smirked. "Y'all are trouble."
"And you," Raye said, "are boring."
She slammed the door.
---
Julie returned thirty minutes later, sunglasses on, wine in hand, humming a tune.
"Someone's got a secret smile," Raye teased.
Julie held up a bottle. "The wine guy told me I had a 'forbidden energy.' He gave me a discount."
Raye clapped. "We love a discount flirt!"
Julie dropped her purse and kicked off her shoes. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
Raye grinned. "Your boy from the gym came by."
Julie raised a brow. "Tariq?"
"Mm-hmm," Raye said, flopping back onto the couch dramatically. "Tried to be smooth. Tried to be flirty. I turned him out like expired milk."
Julie burst into laughter, nearly dropping the wine. "Tell me everything."
Raye gave the full report, reenacting the push at the door with dramatic flair.
By the end of it, Julie was crying laughing.
"You're evil," she said.
Raye raised her glass of soda like a toast. "And proud."
---
Later that evening, Julie was sitting on her front porch with a popsicle, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone when Elias showed up.
"Do you ever stop tempting me?" he asked.
Julie didn't even look up. "Do you ever stop staring like you're starving?"
He stepped closer. "I might be."
Julie stood slowly, letting the hem of her loose tank lift just enough to tease.
"You kissed me last time," she said. "What's your excuse this time?"
"I'm still recovering."
Julie took a slow bite of the popsicle. "So dramatic."
Elias leaned in. "You drive me insane, Julie."
She looked up, lips glossy from the cold treat. "Then kiss me and shut up."
He didn't hesitate.
He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him, lips crashing into hers with a hunger that had clearly been building. Julie gasped into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, hands slipping under her tank and around her bare back.
His lips moved like he meant it this time.
Like he wanted to prove something.
Julie let herself get lost in it—just enough to feel the heat.
Then pulled back, breathless.
"Still just a kiss," she whispered. "Don't get greedy."
Elias stared at her like she was magic.
And maybe she was.
---
That night, Julie and Raye slipped into short dresses and bad decisions. They hit a cozy little bar lit by fairy lights and soaked in slow R&B. The room practically turned to watch them walk in.
Two women. One energy.
Chaos in heels.
They ordered tequila. Then shots. Then more tequila. They laughed, danced, and flirted like the night was made for them.
That's when they saw Lucas.
Tall. Soft brown skin. Low fade. Arms that could ruin a dress. A voice that sounded like silk and sin.
He raised a brow as they approached.
"You ladies always light up a room like this?"
"Only when the room deserves it," Julie said.
He laughed. "I'm Lucas."
"I'm trouble," Raye replied. "And this is my accomplice."
Julie clinked her glass against his. "You game?"
He nodded. "What's the prize?"
"Us," they said in unison.
---
The cab ride home was all tension.
Lucas sat between them.
Raye traced his thigh with one nail.
Julie whispered something dirty in his ear.
By the time the apartment door shut behind them, it was already too late.
Lucas kissed Julie first, firm and wanting, his hands sliding up her waist as she backed toward the bedroom. Raye followed close, her own lips teasing his neck, her voice low.
Three bodies tangled in candlelight and shadows.
Clothes peeled away.
Julie straddled Lucas, grinding against him in her lacy black panties while Raye knelt behind her, lips on her spine.
Lucas groaned, overwhelmed.
Julie kissed Raye once—slow and hot—before guiding Lucas's hands to her hips.
It wasn't about love.
It wasn't about meaning.
It was about escape.
Hands everywhere. Skin hot. Breaths shallow. Julie's moans tangled with Raye's laughter and Lucas's gasps. Their rhythm pulsed like music—raw, reckless, addictive.
Julie arched, riding him while Raye kissed down her stomach.
Lucas cursed, holding her like he never wanted to let go.
Julie leaned down, lips brushing his.
"Don't fall in love, baby," she whispered. "You won't survive it."
---
Afterwards, they collapsed on the bed. Raye to one side. Lucas in the middle. Julie curled up beside him with a sly smile.
The room was silent except for the sound of shallow breaths and heartbeats coming down from chaos.
Lucas blinked at the ceiling. "I think I saw God."
Raye snorted. "That wasn't God, sweetie. That was us."
Julie grinned, draping a blanket over them. "Now go to sleep before we decide to break you again."
Lucas sighed happily. "Best night of my life."
Julie and Raye shared a look—and a giggle.
Flirt. Fool. Forget.
The motto still worked.
And they were just getting started.