Page 10 of Enjoying the Ride

“Yeah?”she clucks sympathetically.“Me too.I honestly didn’t think I’d already be so nervous about the contest, considering we have two weeks to go still.”

I nod, glad that Kelly is sharing her woes, but not so sure that I’m going to willingly share mine just yet.

She leans in toward me.“But I guess it’s because the guys are sogorgeous, too,” she whispers.“It’d be less nerve-wracking if they were little old ladies in charge of getting us in shape,” she adds with a giggle.

I smile half-heartedly.“Yeah, I guess it’s something like that,” I murmur.

I don’t have to tell Kellyallthe reasons why I didn’t sleep.My buddy doesn’t need to know it’s because I spent the entire night imagining piercing blue eyes roaming over my body.That I imagined the weight of large, strong hands, cupping every inch of me, teasing and exploring.Or that I woke up wet and needy, and more than a little frustrated because of it.

We resume walking, picking up the pace since we know we’re about to be late.

And who knows what Trek might do to a girl who’s late?

The question sends a delightful shiver down my spine.

But then, the chattering of high-pitched voices announces that we’ve arrived at the dressing rooms.We walk into a bright room full of mirrors and low stools.Off to one side, I spot several doors, which must lead into the private changing areas.

“Ah, ladies, very good.You two are the last to arrive,” an elderly woman clucks by way of greeting.She’s got bifocals on, and around her neck is a tape measure.This woman must be the tailor.

“Are we late?”Kelly asks breathily.

“No, you’re right on time.Attention, ladies!”the woman calls out above the noise.“Girls, girls!Please, everyone, head to your individual dressing rooms.I’ll be coming to measure you for your bikinis.Now go on and look for your name because we’ve put name tags on each door.”

We moveen massetoward the dozen or so changing rooms.It’s a little chaotic for a moment, but it’s kind of nice to see that everyone else is also a mix of nerves and giggles.

I give Kelly a quick wave and smile before I step into a private dressing room.Oh wow, this is much more than a simple changing area.The space has violet walls, which are soft and feminine.There’s a low sofa in the corner, a small table, and a dummy mannequin stuck with pins.But the centerpiece is a trifold mirror with a small pedestal in front, complete with flattering vanity lighting.It looks like an episode ofSay Yes to the Dress, to be frank.

I take a quick glance in the mirror.Am I ready for this?Last night, before bed, I made sure to do the ‘everything’ shower.I scrubbed every inch of skin, shaved wherever I found hair, and made sure to slather on thick, heavy lotion.I rub absently at my smooth legs.I have no idea what a bikini fitting might entail, but something tells me smooth legs are a must.

There’s a sharp rap at the door.

“Yes?”I call out, my voice muffled by the thick walls.

“It’s me, Miss Jiggs,” the tailor announces before opening the door.“Posey Allstrom?”

“Yes,” I nod.

The woman looks at me and frowns.“You’re still dressed,” she tsks.

“Excuse me?”I ask, confused.

“This is a bikini fitting, sweetheart,” she says with a wry smile.“You’ve got to take it all off.But here, put these on.”

I thought the tailor was going to hand me a robe, but instead, she thrusts a pair of four-inch stilettos at me.They’re sexy and higher than anything I have ever worn before.I eye the shoes—peep toed and silver— and then look at the woman, my gaze darting back and forth between the two.

“Well?What are you waiting for?”the older woman asks, setting her bag on the little table.She begins to pull out a few items, like a tape measure and a small notebook, and place them next to her bag.

My eyebrows shoot up of their own accord.“Um, I don’t know—”

“You need to be naked so that I can get accurate measurements,” the older woman interrupts, all business.“A bikini should to hug your curves, not your clothes.There’s no need to be shy, sweetheart.Trust me, I’ve been a tailor for thirty years and you’ve got nothing that I haven’t seen before.”

I pause for a moment.She’s right, and with only a bit of hesitation, I shimmy out of my simple cotton dress, before pausing at my bra and panties.

“Are you sure I need to betotallynude?”I ask.

“Yes,” the tailor repeats, holding up a measuring tape.“Hurry, please.I have nine other girls to see to,” she reminds me, a hint of impatience in her tone.

“Yes, of course,” I say quickly and slide my panties down.I unclasp my bra and instinctively cover my boobs.Somehow, this is embarrassing even though I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed.It’s just a fitting with an old lady, after all.

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