Page 16 of Do That To Me

“Yeah, me too, if I’m honest.”

“Thank you!” Meredith shouts. “That book traumatized me as a kid.”

I love listening to her talk about books. “Oh! Do you have the one about the baby bat?”

“Stellaluna?”

“Yes! I love that one.”

“Dr. Seuss stresses you out, but you think the story of a baby bat who loses her mother will help you sleep?”

Meredith laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I laugh again as I grab the book off the shelf and stretch out on my bed. I hear the sounds of rustling. “Okay. I’m comfy.”

“Me too,” I say.

“What are you wearing?” Meredith asks.

Oh my god, she’s so cute. “Flannel sleep pants.”

“Not going to describe the shirt?”

I snap a photo of myself from the neck down, bare chest and all, and send it to her.

“Not wearing one.”

“Tease,” she says…and my ego gets a bit of a boost when I can tell the exact moment the photo comes through. Meredith sucks in a breath. “Oh damn.”

And somewhere along the way, this bedtime story becomes something else entirely.

ChapterTen

Meredith

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

Nate really shouldn’t feign humility.

“Sir,” I admonish. “You know what you look like, right?”

“Like what?”

I grumble. As if he doesn’t know. “Gah! Like a freaking Adonis, okay?”

Nate scoffs. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

After a short pause, I ask, “Should I send you a photo of what I’m wearing?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“If you want to, I’d love to see ….”

Nate trails off when the photo comes through: my hair piled on top of my head in a scrunchie and my face covered in a mucous-colored peel-off beauty mask. I’m wearing my usual slovenly pajamas: a vee-neck long-sleeve tee-shirt and cotton shorts I’ve had for a hundred years.

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