Page 99 of Panty Dropper

“Anyway, Cheyenne saw a flier up at the grocery store about this class, and she thought it’d be fun. It’s called Farm Strong.”

“So…lots of hitting truck tires with sledgehammers, then?”

“I’d imagine.”

“Good,” she grinned. “I’ve got some aggression I’d like to get out.”

“Turn here.” Nadia pointed down a dirt path.

“But the GPS says—” I pointed at the screen on my dashboard.

“I don’t care what it says.” She grabbed the wheel. “If you want the Mitchell farm, turn.”

I did as instructed and turned down a long, dusty driveway. As we rounded the corner at the end, I saw Cheyenne standing beside a barn. Her bright blonde hair was tied up in a perky ponytail and the huge smile and wave she gave was too energetic for that hour of the morning, even by my standards.

“You were right.” I observed. If I’d followed the GPS, who knows where I would’ve ended up.

“You sound surprised,” she said flatly.

I chuckled as I pulled up next to a handful of other cars. As I hopped out, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.

Billy’s truck.

What was he doing here? He didn’t close the bar until two in the morning. Why would he be at a workout class three hours later? My heart slammed in my chest as I began sweating. And not from exercise.

Cheyenne bounced over, wide grin plastered across her face. “Yay! I’m so glad you guys made it. This is going to be the best!”

Nadia let out a brittle, short laugh. “Don’t oversell it. I’m not awake enough to do the mental gymnastics necessary to adjust my expectations.”

Nadia’s morning malaise did nothing to dampen Cheyenne’s enthusiasm. As for me, I was suddenly so full of equal parts dread and anticipation of seeing Billy that I had zero room for anything else. I didn’t have any idea what I would say to him. The last time we’d seen one another had been so raw and intimate, and then I’d avoided him.

We followed Cheyenne around the back of the red barn, and who was the first person I saw? Billy Comfort. The sight of him hit me like a punch in the gut. It wasn’t even him so much—although it goes without saying that, even at that hour of the morning, he looked sexy as sin—but who he was with.

Namely, two very scantily clad gym-bunnies who were each hanging all over him. This early, and they were decked out in fully coordinated spandex from head to toe (save for a broad stretch over their bellies, which were naked as the day they were born).

Not only that, but to add insult to injury, they were both in full makeup. To freaking work out.

I glanced down at myself. Plain black sneakers. Plain black yoga pants. A white sports bra with a loose gray tank top layered over it. My hair was in a middling-to-messy ponytail. I had no makeup on.

In short, I was dressed to actually work out. Not pose for pictures in a magazine advertisement about working out.

All the insecurities from my early childhood came rushing back to me. It was the first time in my adult life that I sincerely felt vulnerable. Having Hal in my life had been the first thing that had built my self-confidence. But the real boost I’d gotten was when I legally changed my name. It had been like a new identity to me. Like I was a superhero.

When other girls were going through the awkward pre-teen and teen years, I’d felt more confident and unaffected by other people’s opinions than I ever had because I wasn’t Fancy Cox anymore. I was Reagan York. There was nothing that Reagan York couldn’t accomplish. And that feeling had continued on into my young adult and adulthood. Until now, anyway.

Now, a greasy, sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I knew what it was. I recognized it well enough. It was the crushing weight of inadequacy. It was what I’d tried to outrun so hard in the past by following every rule, meeting every expectation.

And look how well that had turned out.

Actually…yeah. Look how well that had turned out!

My life might not be going exactly as I’d planned, but it wasn’t a total failure. I was an attorney. I was employed. And as of Saturday, I would be living in a home. Life had knocked me down and I’d picked myself back up, dusted off, and kept going. If I wanted to break the pattern of not feeling good enough, no one was going to do that but me.

I straightened my shoulders, which had the fortunate side effect of thrusting my tits forward. That was good, because I certainly didn’t mind how firm and perky they were looking in my sports bra, thankyouverymuch.

With my metaphorical best foot firmly forward, I walked up to the group, which just happened to include Billy and the Bimbettes. Out of my peripheral vision I could see that it was clear from the trio’s body language that the girls were each trying to get something started with him and he wasn’t having any of it. Now that I wasn’t looking at the scene through the filter of a blazing haze of insecurity, it was obvious.

When he looked over and his eyes lighted on me, his face lit up like Fourth of July fireworks. Okay. Maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but the butterflies he set off in my belly certainly were.

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