I can tell she’s disappointed in me, which makes me disappointed in myself. I don’t want to go full-blown crazy, but maybe it would be good if I shook things up every now and then. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?
“Fine!” I say, bringing up the camera on my phone and pulling the cups of my bra down under my breasts. I pull up my shirt and snap a pic.
“Remember the caption.”
“Seriously, Stacey—what the heck is wrong with you!” I say, trying to sound serious but failing to stifle my giggles.
Finally, the picture is ready for delivery.
“God, you really have a thing for men that look like assholes,” Stacey says, eyeing a picture of Grady.
“I can’t help it. They’re exciting. It balances my boring. And lord can they fuck!” I smirk, remembering the feel of calloused hands on my inner thigh and the scent of motor oil. I do so love me a bad boy. “I’m sure you date wilder.”
Stacey pulls out her phone, bringing up a picture of a man dressed in a plaid shirt, a sweater vest, and thick-rimmed glasses. “That’s my man.”
I arc a brow. “Him?”
“Yep, and trust me, he can fuck.”
“I mean, not to sound rude, but you are completely mismatched.”
“But we make it work.”
“This gives hope to me and Tom, I guess.”
Stacey’s bites her lower lip, subverting her gaze.
“What?”
“Look, it’s not that mismatched people don’t work, but Derek and I don’t pretend to be who we’re not. He knows I’m wild. I know he’s going to go to bed at 9:30 every night. We accept each other.”
“If you don’t think I should be fronting an act, then why are you helping to put it together?”
“At first, it was just part of the job, but now, I really do like you, Nadine. I don’t want you to have to pretend to be anything less than the awesome person you are.”
“Gee, thanks. I mean, I don’t plan on changing everything, I just want to make a good impression. Keep him interested.”
“I get it, and I’m not judging.”
“Thanks.” Unexpectedly, I wrap Stacey in a hug.
“Umm…are you forgetting something?” she says.
“What?”
“You still need to send that pic.”