Page 56 of Wicked & Wildflower

Everett makes me feel young and dumb, which somehow makes me feel carefree and brave and wild. So, I let those feelings guide me as I walk over to my dresser and open the top drawer. I’m wearing a Wichita State t-shirt and a pair of gray, high-waisted briefs that are at least three sizes too big, but Everett doesn’t need to know that.

I tear through my drawer until I find a pair of black, all lace boy-shorts. Changing out my underwear and crawling back into bed, I lay on my side, hiking one leg over the other. I lift my t-shirt so just a glimpse of skin shows between the gap of my top and my panties, skin on full display beneath the lace. I bring one hand up to the center of my chest, and angle my camera so that it catches my entire body between my bent knee and my chin.

Before I allow myself to think any further, I snap the photo and send it to Everett.

He immediately reads the message. Three bubbles pop up, letting me know he’s typing, before they disappear again, and my stomach plummets. “Shit.”

I press and hold down the photo, trying to figure out if there is a way to unsend it, though I know it’s too late and he already saw it. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dahlia,” I groan into my pillow. Still trying to figure out how to unsend the message, I jump when my phone begins vibrating in my hand.

Everett’s contact pops up on my screen—he’s FaceTiming me.

I reach across my bedside table and grab my AirPods, connecting them and placing one in each ear before hesitantly answering the call. I check my reflection on the screen, brushing my ratted hair from my face and pinching some color into my cheeks and lips.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly, my voice shaking as I hold the phone up to my face.

Everett’s sitting up against his headboard, ridiculously gorgeous bare chest staring back at me, brown eyes on fire. “Is that really what you’re wearing right now?”

“Yes?”

I watch his throat work as he swallows. “Show me.”

There's a challenge glimmering in his face, and I decide to throw caution to the wind, meeting it head-on. I shrug back down the bed so I’m on my back, slowly angling my phone screen down so that my chest, stomach, and legs become visible. My shirt is long enough that it covers the apex of my thighs, but I lift the hem slightly, showing off the black band of the lace underwear against my hips.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “That’s what you wear in bed at night when you’re thinking of me?”

I put the camera back on my face, raising a brow. “Who said I was thinking of you?”

“You texted me.”

“Because it’s your fault I can’t sleep.”

He lifts one arm and places it behind his head, biceps flexing with the movement. Flashing me that wicked fucking grin, he says, “You know what they say can help with falling asleep?”

I gasp, feigning offense. “Mr. Ramos, are you proposing Facetime sex with me right now?”

He bites his lip, hiding a smile. “I’m just saying… As yourboyfriend, I’m here to assist with all your needs, Wildflower. Whatever it is they may be.”

“Fake boyfriend,” I correct him, ignoring the way he bristles. “And I’m not sure what you think I need help with, but I can manage on my own.”

“I know something you need help with.”

I turn on my side, propping my phone up against my pillow. “What’s that?”

He smirks. “You’re embarrassed about the way you come. That you squirt.”

My face flames. I drop my phone onto the bed so he can no longer see it. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“C’mon, Dal.” His voice is muffled through the speaker covered by my pillow. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about it. Do you have any idea how fucking sexy it is?”

I grab the phone again. “It isnotsexy.”

His jaw ticks beneath his perfectly manicured beard. “Who the fuck told you that?”

I roll my eyes as I turn over onto my back. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He’s quiet for a moment, contemplating. “Fine. We don’t have to talk about it, but whoever he is, he’s a fucking asshole, and he’s dead wrong.”

I don’t know how to respond or how to look at him, so I stare at myself in the mirror hung against my bedroom door on the other side of the room. I wasn’t lying when I told him it wassomething I could normally only do to myself. Only once, before Everett, had I…come like that with another man. He definitely did not find it sexy, and he had no interest in seeing me again afterwards.

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