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Her wet hair was pulled up into a towel revealing the gentle slope of her neck. Her bare legs looked a mile long below the hem of the shirt which hit her mid-thigh. Her perky nipples were visible beneath the thin cotton making it evident that she was not wearing a bra.
That made me wonder if she was wearing underwear or if she was going commando.
“Are you okay?” she asked looking genuinely concerned.
I knew she was asking about the frustrated groan she’d heard but that was the last thing I wanted to talk about.
For months I’d been fighting the feelings I had and I was tired. I was tired of not acting on them.
“What else do you remember about the night of Billy’s wedding?”
Cheyenne’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink at my question. She licked her lips and I was holding my breath to hear her response. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, something distracted her and she tilted her head to one side. “Is that the song from Anchorman playing?”
Yes. Yes it was.
