Page 28 of Very Unlikely
“As much as au naturel is in right now, there are limitations to exactly how natural one should be.”
Summer’s teeth grit when I nudge my head to thepoofypart of her swimmers. Her extremely familiar response reminds me that the woman standing across from me is not a piece of meat for me to devour.
She is my best friend.
“What the hell do you have in there? An entire bush.”
“Shut up! It isn’t that bad.”
“It isn’t?” I don’t give her time to explain. “Because to me, it looks like you gave birth to Chewbacca’s baby, but you forgot to take your underwear off first.”
My last two words come out with a grunt when she tosses her fist into my stomach. For her small stature, her fists sure hold some power.
“You can’t go out in public like that, Cocoa. Your tan will be uneven from the fern sheltering your midsection.”
Whack.
“And if you enter the water, the sea urchins will be confused as to which direction they should spray their eggs and sperm.”
Whack.
“And don’t get me started on the birdlife who nest in the marshland.”
Double whack!
“You’re an ass!”
“And you’re in need of an urgent appointment with a beautician.” My tongue peeks between my teeth when I say, “Now I understand why some guys can’t find the clit. It isn’t from a lack of trying. It’s because they forgot to bring a weedwhacker to their date!”
I duck in just enough time to miss an object being tossed across the room. Summer wasn’t aiming to maim. If she was, the alarm clock would have lodged into my skull instead of the drywall next to my head.
“It isn’t as simple as you make it sound, Lenigan69. I went to take care of business…” My dick gets super uncomfortable when it reads her reply in the wrong manner, “… then I realized we only have one razor.” She folds her arms under her chest. I really wish she wouldn’t because it alerts me to how fantastic her tits look in a bikini top. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t want me placingyourrazor so close tomyvagina after walking in on me stimulating my clit…”Why couldn’t she have just said masturbating?“… so I settled on wearing boardshorts with the bikini top—”
“But then you realized not even titanium could hidethatbulge.” I nudge my head to the crotch of her swimming pants during the ‘that’ part of my comment.
It’s times like this I wish I had a filter, then my shit-stirring wouldn’t stockpile Summer with plenty of ammunition to hit back with. “If it isall so easy,” she air quotes her last three words, “… then come get waxed with me.”
“What?” I briskly shake my head. “I don’t need waxing. For one, I know how much the ladies despise when the vine strangles the trunk.” The cockiness in my tone dips a little when the anger on her face augments to an emotion I don’t know how to read. “And two…” It takes me a little longer to finalize my reply when it dawns on me that some of the glint in her eyes is hurt. “Thanks to pitching, I’m naturally manscaped.”
That wasn’t what I was planning to say, but her disappointed expression altered my reply. It’s the same look she gave me when one of her sorority sisters invited me to her room to look at her cheer trophies and the very look that had me seeking bed companions from schools outside of Morrison’s catchment zone within weeks of us becoming friends.
With the arrogance on my face nowhere near as evident, I ask, “If I go with you, will you go through with it?”
Summer balks. That wasnotthe reply she was anticipating. “The waxing?” When I lift my chin, she sheepishly nods. “Okay, but you have to get waxed too. No standing on the sidelines, laughing at me like you did when I got my eyebrows done.”
“Alright.” My chuckle is inappropriate but understandable since I am recalling how much higher my pain threshold is than Summer’s. She is a wimp when it comes to pain. “Make the appointment while I shower. I don’t want a stranger getting up close and personal with my junk when it’s sweaty. That usually occursoncewe’ve become acquainted, not after a brief introduction.”
I enter the bathroom with a swagger to my stride that hides how delectably delicious Summer’s gasped scorns are. They’re almost as x-rated as the moan she releases when she’s striving to come, which ensures they’ll be put to good use during the prolonged shower routine I’ve only developed since bunking full-time with Summer.
“Well played, Summer. Well fucking played,” I groan under my breath when we’re ushered into a cubicle at the back of a beauty salon by a six-foot-four blond Scandinavian man with biceps as big as my head. He’s wearing a masseuse outfit, but the rest of him sticks out like a sore thumb. He isn’twhat I was expecting when Summer said she found a beautician who could fit us in at the last minute. “A changing cubical is in the far corner of the room.” Summer’s eyes bulge as effectively as mine when he adds, “Remove everything from the waist down.” After bouncing his eyes between Summer and me, he asks, “Who’s going first?”
According to our plan on the drive here, Summer raises her hand in the air, but I leap onto the plastic-encased bed with stirrups before the beautician spots her gesture. I’m not above using my junk to strip his ego down to nothing. No guy likes putting out feelers when mates of the same species are in the room with him, but it’s worse when he’s doing it in front of a man who’s hung like a horse.
“Holy shit,” Summer murmurs on a whisper before she drops her eyes to the floor like she’s never seen a penis before.
I know she’s viewed at least one. Mine was imprinted into her memory bank within the first month of us forming our agreement. She thought an almost empty locker room was a safe place to enter. She learned otherwise when she exited said locker room ten seconds later with a record-breaking six penis inspections under her belt.
She hasn’t been back to a locker room since. I’m also not convinced she’s seen anyone’s junk since then, either. She travels home every summer to spend time with her father, but after meeting Rye, I doubt he allows his daughter to get much action during those sweltering few weeks.
