"Ava," an unfamiliar voice coos, and I cringe at its overly saccharine tone.
Turning, I see Chloe sauntering toward me, hips swaying in a way that catches the eye of every male she passes. For a moment, I'm startled by her revealing clothes—a tight, low-cut top that leaves little to the imagination and a skirt so short it barely covers anything at all.
Like Lisa, her auburn hair flows in messy waves over her shoulders, but her eyes are slathered in fancy eyeliner and shadows that belong on one of those make-up artists from online videos. Fancy stuff. A little too much for me, but I can appreciate the talent behind it.
She reaches me and greets me with an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek, her lips lingering just a bit too long for comfort. "You look amazing," she gushes, her eyes raking over my body in a way that makes me want to squirm. "So much better than your training clothes."
