Page 66 of Just the Tipsy
He wets his hair, then looks at me, not judging. “Not even an ex?”
“No. But now that I think about it, we had some awesome showers where we could have.” The master bath in the apartment I shared with Kyler had a gorgeous, deep tub and a bathroom with multiple shower heads. But still, the idea of showering together never seriously crossed my mind. “It felt too…I don’t know. Never mind. It’s stupid.”
“Why would it be stupid?” He grabs a bottle of body wash.
“I was just self-conscious. Physically, I mean.” I sigh. “As if I hadn’t been mostly naked in front of cameras and plastered all over the internet.”
And as if I hadn’t taken a few spicy pictures of myself early in our relationship. I still wish I could unsend those, especially now. He claims he deleted them but his track record with the truth is pretty iffy.
“Being naked at work is different than being naked at home.” he says, pausing. “That’s not something I ever thought I’d say.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but it makes sense. Being naked or mostly naked on set is so clinical and unsexy. Like I’m freezing my tits off in an uncomfortable post and some photographer is yelling stuff like, ‘unclench, Bianca! You look like you’re taking a shit waiting for the bus!”
Waylon bursts out laughing. “That’s a little too specific to be something you thought of off the top of your head.”
“Yeah, I have a whole list of wild stuff photographers have said,” I say. “But yeah, that kind of energy makes me feel less nervous about being so exposed. Plus I got photoshopped to hell and back. Showering with my exes would have made me feel too exposed. Even though it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen me naked in bed. The more I talk about it, the more it sounds absurd.”
“No, I get it, I think. In bed, you’re moving and you’re in a certain headspace. But in the shower you’re just casually naked.” He leans against the wall. “And in the light.”
“Exactly.” I slip under the water again.
Being casually naked with Waylon feels way too natural — like I hadn’t even thought to be self-conscious about it.
“I get what it’s like to be self-conscious around the people who you shouldn’t be self-conscious around,” he says after a comfortable pause. “Not physically, but just in general.”
He’s talking about his awful ex, I’m guessing, and now I dislike her even more.
“That too,” I say. “It’s not even something conscious.”
“You just wake up one day and you realize that you’re holding shit in.” His tone is soft and filled with understanding.
All I can do is nod, or I’ll say something that breaks this little bubble we’re in and lets in all the ugly stuff from the past come through.
My stomach twists in knots even though the water is soothing. I know Waylon isn’t like my exes at all, but the more I open up, the more I worry about the other shoe dropping. Or worse — I worry about him being just right for me, but him not feeling the same way.
TWENTY-ONE
BIANCA
The next fewweeks go by in a blur — a good blur, not the kind where I feel like I’m being thrown from one place to another. So far, I haven’t had any more bad news from the press or from Kyler.
I go to work (and actually enjoy it), get prepared to open the business, then have Waylon come by to fix parts of the house. And then we fool around and he gives me lessons on almost everything I’ve ever wanted to know.
I like that part the most, but in the same way I like food I know will give me a stomachache. But I do it anyway then try to shove down the absurd crush I have on him. What if I’m just blinded by these feelings and he turns out to be a dick in the long run? Then again, where can whatever this is even go? Whatever trauma he has from his past relationship isn’t the kind of thing you can get over in however long I have left in town.
I bite my bottom lip, watching Sadie sniff around the grass outside of the Stryker Liquor offices for her pee break. I found a list of realtors in the area who could help sell my house but I haven’t made a move yet. At the rate we’re going, we could have the house done not long after the wedding.
Kaitlyn is thrilled because me moving to New York means we can really make strides on the spa. But the closer that date gets, the more uneasy I get.
Sadie looks up at me, wagging her tail, so I scoop her up and head back inside. Will Sadie be happy in New York? She generally likes to be in my lap or on the closest soft surface, but she’s never been to a place like the city as far as I know.
I sit back down at my desk, placing Sadie in my lap. Rose isn’t there, but she comes back in with a light sigh.
“I know the wedding will be amazing the day of, but I’m fucking tired of all the little bullshit that keeps getting thrown my way,” she says, flopping down into her chair. “Today it’s ribbons. For what? I don’t even know.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “But the wedding is soon, at least.”
“Yeah. By the way, want to come to my bachelorette party? It’s going to be pretty casual with just a few of us — just going to the bar for a drink with the guys, then going back to our place for a sleepover.”
