Page 38 of Let It Breathe
On the other side of the table, Eric cleared his throat. “Clay and I were college roommates, Bob. Me and Reese and Clay, we’ve been friends a long time.” He looked back at Clay and gestured toward an empty chair sitting off to the side of the booth. “You gonna join us, buddy?”
Clay hesitated. Larissa snaked out a stiletto-clad foot and dragged the chair closer. “Come on, Clay—it’s been too long. At least help us with the nachos and catch up on old times.”
Clay hesitated again, hoping no one expected him to be the life of the party the way he might have been in college. Then again, people had stopped inviting him to parties within a few years of college, back when he’d gone from being the fun guy with a beer in his hand to the pathetic guy with twelve empty cans at his feet.
He could change all that.
Clay sat down and signaled a passing waiter to ask for another Coke.
He looked back at Reese. She looked away. Then she reached between her breasts and fiddled with something again.
Seriously? Was he the only one noticing this?
He glanced at Bob. Okay, so he wasn’t the only one noticing. But Bob seemed more interested in the breasts themselves than in whatever was troubling them. Or troubling Reese—he wasn’t really sure what was going on.
“So, Bob,” Clay said. “How’s the financial analyst business going?”
“Good, good,” Bob said, peeling his eyes off Reese’s cleavage. “What is it you do, Clay?”
“I’m in construction.”
“I see,” said Bob in a tone that suggested his opinion of Clay had just dropped three levels. Based on the way Bob kept ogling Reese, Clay’s opinion of him had already hit rock bottom and was starting to dig.
Reese reached between her breasts again and squirmed. Beside her, Larissa was having an animated conversation with Sheila. Clay had missed most of the details, but Larissa shrieked with laughter. She flailed her arm to the side, bumping Reese with her elbow. Reese flinched, and Clay watched as her eyes flew wide.
Reese looked down the front of her shirt, joining Bob in what was apparently the preferred pastime for the evening.
What the hell?
Reese remembered too late why she hadn’t worn the damn black lace bra for years. As she stared down the front of her shirt where the broken front clasp had come unhooked, she wondered if there was any tactful way to remedy the situation.
It wasn’t enough she sat sandwiched between her shrieking cousin and Bob the Boob-man. Could she even make it across the restaurant like this?
If she were smaller busted, sure, and if this top weren’t so tight. But the bra now gaped open in the middle, with the underwire cups flung out to the sides like mutant wings at the edges of her boobs.
She felt her cheeks heat up as she folded her arms over her chest.
Shit, that made it worse. Bob’s gaze heated as her arms squashed her unleashed cleavage up around her collarbones. She unfolded her arms and looked around the table to see if anyone else noticed.
Someone kicked her under the table. Reese glanced down to see Clay’s steel-toed work boot. She looked up to see him eyeing her curiously.
You okay? he mouthed.
Reese grimaced and folded her arms over her chest again, this time trying to squash her cleavage down instead of up. Beside her, she felt Bob lean closer. She watched Clay’s eyes narrow. On her other side, Larissa squealed again.
She shook her head at Clay and looked at Larissa. Screw it, she just had to make a run for the bathroom. She unfolded her arms and nudged her cousin.
“Larissa—I need to get out,” Reese whispered.
“Give me just a sec—I’ve gotta hear how Sheila’s story ends!”
Reese started to argue but changed her mind. Did she really want to march across the restaurant with her boobs flapping in the wind and the unhooked bra making funny lumps under the too-snug shirt?
She looked back at Clay.
An image flashed through her mind, one so old she’d forgotten it was there. Beautiful, long fingers on her bra clasp, flicking it open with one hand as his lips moved down her throat and his other hand cupped her?—
Shit. Shit shit shit!
