Page 39 of WASP

Max.

Her eyes shot open and she instantly removed the vibrator. It felt almost wrong to think of Max right now. It wasn’t the thought of her; no, Max preoccupied most of Annie’s thoughts these days. Thinking about her like this felt borderline…disrespectful. Almost like participating in that specific fantasy would cross some kind of imaginary line in her head she had sworn to respect. Actively letting herself go there felt like a point of no return where all the unspoken, and sometimes spoken, things between them would feel far too real to ignore.

But Annie was horny. And she was going there.

She increased the vibrator’s speed, pressing it firmly against herself, hips rolling up, pushing even harder against the device as Max’s smile filled her mind and Annie imagined what being touched by Max would feel like. She whimpered softly as she found the perfect spot, the sensation ripping through her in an almost, probably-as-close-as-she-was-going-to-get-to-an-orgasm way. Her thoughts had been so distracting that she didn’t hear any movement in the house until a voice was on the other side of the door.

“Annie, sweetie, are you awake?” came her mother’s voice through the heavy door of her bedroom.

Fuck.

Annie nearly threw the vibrator across the bed; at the last minute, her brain formed the rational thought to slip it under her pillow instead as the doorknob began to twist. She grabbed at the waist of her shorts, hiking them up and back into place, closing her eyes and feigning sleep.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she listened to her mother’s footsteps move across the creaking wooden floor of her bedroom, perching herself on the edge of Annie’s bed. The mattress sank slightly under the additional weight, and Annie used that moment to pretend she was just waking up when her reality had actually been quite different a few seconds ago.

“It’s almost nine,” her mother pointed out, looking down at her with deep blue eyes that looked exactly like hers minus the central golden starbursts. She reached forward, brushing hair away from Annie’s forehead, lingering. “You’re not getting sick, are you? Your face feels warm and you’re a little flushed.” Annie’s stomach twisted because yeah, duh. Of course she was flushed and a little warm…

“Not feeling sick, just waking up.” Annie hid her lie in a yawn, propping herself up with care as to avoid the reveal of the pink device currently stuffed under her pillow. “How was Pilates?” she asked, trying to change the topic.

Her mom smiled softly in a way Annie had always paired with the feeling of being taken care of. “It was good. Karen Walters was there, and you know how I feel about her.” She rolled her eyes and for the life of her, Annie couldn’t remember what her mom’s beef with Karen Walters was, but she was sure it had to be decades old at this point.

“Well, I’m glad it was good,” Annie said simply.

Another moment passed before her mother shifted again. “I was thinking about getting my nails done this afternoon. Charlotte has gymnastics today, but afterward I thought it could be fun for you, me, and your sister to get manicures.”

Annie stilled, quietly touched by her mother’s invitation. Getting their nails done together was nothing new. It was an activity they had indulged in countless times over the years, with and without Avery, but no matter the frequency, it had always felt like they were doing something special together.

“Sounds fun. Count me in.”

Her mom smiled, standing. “I’ll make an appointment.” She moved towards the bedroom door before turning back to face her. “Don’t lie around all day—I’m sure you can find something productive to do with your time between now and our appointment,” she said, slipping back out into the hall, leaving Annie both excited and frustrated in more ways than one.

Once she was sure her mother was safely back downstairs, Annie slipped a hand under her pillow, gingerly pulling out the pink vibrator and tucking it back into its hidden storage pouch.

After a long shower, Annie stood in a fluffy, pristine white towel expertly wrapped around her torso. She leaned forward, examining her reflection in the mirror above her dresser as she applied a regimen of serums and lotions to her skin. Her face had filled in the hollowness left by her post-breakup sadness-fueled weight loss, the kind of loss that felt more problematic than purposeful.

Her eyes lingered for a moment longer, examining the subtle hint of a wrinkle forming across her brow bone, the same one her sister Avery had pointed out to her when Annie had stopped by the house two days earlier to spend some time with her nieces and nephew. Annie had hoped that the time at her sister’s would be time well spent—you know, leaning into aunt life and really solidifying family bonds for years to come and all of that. But the truth was that the afternoon had taken a turn, instead reverting her and her sister back to the twelve- and seventeen-year-old versions of themselves, when they had barely been able to tolerate each other.

There had always been something off about their bond as sisters, something Annie had never quite been able to put her finger on. She had spent most of her teenage and college years chasing her older sister’s approval, wanting desperately for Avery to see her for who she was and to be proud of her.

However, Annie learned that was something Avery wasn’t capable of doing. But that didn’t stop her from chasing her sister’s approval even harder when her sister had Charlotte—determined to, even from a distance, be the best god damn auntie Avery’s kids would ever have. Considering that Brett had two brothers, it shouldn’t have been that hard, but no matter what she did, Avery always seemed to find something Annie had done to pick at.

She inhaled deeply, her gaze shifting to the precarious stack of boxes still taking up space in the corner of her room—still not unpacked. They were the same boxes that symbolized the final nail in the coffin of the life she had planned for herself. But, no matter how hard she tried, Annie couldn’t bring herself to finish unpacking.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser.

Max 9:55 AM

Lynn and I just finished at the gym. Wanna meet us at the house for breakfast?

A familiar playful smile danced on her lips, the one that had become synonymous with seeing Max’s name, which had also recently started being accompanied by a tug deep in her. One like nothing she’d ever felt before.

Annie 9:56 AM

Hmmm. Depends. What’s for breakfast and who’s cooking?

Max 9:56 AM

Waffles and me.