Erin
It’s itchy, though. And it would show through a t-shirt.
In her next batch, despite selecting the same size as before, nothing fit. She braved a third round, and found two bras that were adequate.
Mom
The black one is very practical.
It was.
Erin
It works fine. Here’s the last group.
Nothing.
Erin
Ugh. At least I found two.
Mom
They’re nice. But why don’t you experiment with something fun? You’ve been working so hard and you’ve just had your story published. What about a treat?
Erin
Well…
Mom
Try something on. See how you feel.
A new message from Bannister pinged across her screen while she debated Lori’s advice. The preview text was a commentary on his walk with Bunsen. Despite her frustration with the lingerie fitting, she couldn’t help the smile that reflected back at her from the mirror.
So she fetched the starry bralette.
The lace slipped over her head to settle in cool patterns across her skin. Its raised stitching would show through any shirt. Embroidered silver stars glimmered under the lights, barely obscuring the peaks of her breasts. It was completely impractical.
And very, very pretty.
The freckles dotting her arms and collarbones could’ve been constellations.
She angled herself before the glass, arched her back just a little, took the picture, and sent it—
—toMost Recent Contact.
Which wasn’t her mother now.
She’d sent the photo to Bannister.
8
Ethan dropped his phone again.
But he couldn’t blame Bunsen this time because the golden retriever was sloppily devouring a teeth-cleaning chew stick on the couch, and he was in the kitchen piling up a lunchtime vegetable bowl from prepared Tupperware portions of sliced cucumbers, tomatoes, and feta cheese, a glob of hummus on his knife making a slow bid for freedom toward the floor.
Plop.
