Back in the penthouse, Aria did what any sane, twenty-year-old woman left entirely alone at home would do.
She blasted pop music, ate an unholy amount of snacks, and walked around completely naked.
Sabrina Carpenter's "Please Please Please" was currently echoing through the integrated surround-sound speakers of the master suite. Aria hadn't left the bedroom and en-suite bathroom area for three solid hours. She was deeply committed to the sacred ritual of the "everything shower."
She had scrubbed every inch of her skin with a brown sugar exfoliant. She had meticulously shaved her intimate areas until she was smoother than a marble statue. She had applied a thick, expensive layer of shea body butter from her collarbones to her toes, clipped and painted her toenails a sharp, glossy oxblood red, and thoroughly moisturized her damp rose-gold hair before weaving it into a loose, comfortable braid over her shoulder.
She felt like a newly minted human being.
