Page 41 of Body Check
Bridgette: The only good bridezillas are the ones who belong to another stylist. And it was actually a great day. Bainbridge High had its homecoming dance, so I had my hands full with up-dos most of the afternoon, and one of the nail techs called in sick, so I got some overtime by helping out.
Dutton: You’re pretty amazing, you know that?
Bridgette: It was time-and-a half. I wasn’t going to say no. Besides, I couldn’t let a bunch of girls go to a dance without French tips. I have a heart, dammit.
Dutton: It’s a little crazy to me that you can do all this stuff. You’re like a real adult with a real job and real skills.
Bridgette: Says the man who’s already been drafted and has an incredible career in front of him.
Dutton: I play a game for a living. It’s a game I love, and it’s not fucking easy, but still.
Bridgette: Well, if you really want to learn how to apply dip powder to nail extensions or how to thread someone’s eyebrows, I’ll be happy to teach you.
Dutton: Yeah…no thanks. When I'm with you, I have a whole lot of other shit I wanna do.
Bridgette: Oh, yeah? Like what?
Dutton: You really have to ask?
Bridgette: Yes. I mean, I’m hoping it’s a list of sexy things, but ugh. What if you want to teach me how to change the oil in my car? (Thanks for doing that, btw.)
Dutton: Anytime. And I won’t teach you if you don't want to learn. I’m happy to keep doing it for you. And just so we’re clear, basic mechanics is not on the list of activities that run through my mind when I think about spending time with you.
Dutton: Are you tired? I can let you get some sleep. But if you’re gonna be up for a while, want to video chat?
As I wait for her response, I briefly wonder if aliens have taken over my brain or if my brain has just been replaced by my dick. I’m not a big fan of talking on the phone, but I fucking hate video chats. I only tolerate them from my mom, because she’s my mom and she brought me into this world, so if she wants tosee my face while we talk on the phone, I figure she deserves at least that much. I also accept them from Blue because it’s written in bestie code that you’ll do shit for your ride or die that you wouldn’t dream of doing for anyone else. I guess Bridgette’s in that category now? No, that doesn’t seem quite right. She’s in a category of her own—one that means I won’t just agree to a video call, I’ll fucking suggest one.
I have my answer when her call comes through. I click the little green button with the video camera, and she appears on my screen. Bridhette’s a knockout. That’s been clear since I laid eyes on her. She’s always polished and glammed up. Even for a day by the pool, she was all dolled up. But right now, her face is free of makeup, her long hair tumbles around her shoulders, and her cleavage peaks through the v-neck of her silky robe.
Her silky. fucking. robe. It’s a pale blue color with flowers all over it, but my favorite part by far is the tie at the side. With one quick tug, I could unravel the whole thing and be staring at her beautiful naked body.
Except for the fact that I’m more than two thousand miles away from her.
“Dutton, are you there?” she asks, because I’m probably just staring open-mouthed at the screen, like a twelve-year-old kid who’s just seen his first pair of boobs.
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat and adjusting my already-hardening cock.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, turning to the side to adjust her pillow and giving me a view of her luscious tits.
“Nope,” I answer. “I’m slowly dying of lust over here, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”
Her smile is gratifying.“Dying of lust? That sounds terrible. And also treatable.”
“What, are you pre-med now?” I tease. “Do you know how to cure me, doc?”
A giggle escapes her pretty lips. “I’m still a hair stylist and a business major, so I don’t think ‘doc’ will work as a pet name.”
“What should I call you, then?” I ask, marveling at the way this woman has turned me into the kind of man who uses cutesy names and shit.
“As long as you don’t call me Birdie, we’ll be just fine. Bran gets a pass because he’s my twin, but I hate that freaking name. It gives me flashbacks to my childhood and my horrible cousin calling me Big Birdie. And yes, all the adults in my family thought it was hilarious.”
Holy. Shit. Once again, I’m grateful I hit the freaking jackpot with my parents.
On my phone screen, Bridgette’s biting her lip. “Sorry. I think I made things awkward, and I was trying to make them sexy. Well, not with the nickname, obviously. I just thought?—”
“Everything you do is sexy,” I tell her honestly. “Especially in that pretty little robe you’re wearing. But our phone calls don’t have to just be sexy stuff. If you want to bitch about the heinous people in your life, then go ahead. And don’t mind me while I sit here and make a list of all the people who’ve hurt you and all the ways Blue can prank them. I realize that may not sound like much, but you wouldn’t believe the damage and frustration that a few pieces of cheese on the hood of a car in the heat of the summer sun can cause.”
“Cheese? I’ll take your word for it,” she says, a smile gracing her plump lips. “But let’s make that horrible relative list another time, okay? I have better things in mind for tonight.”
