“Except that you’re not. Grayson totally wants you. Come on, push those boobies up.”
“I—”
“You’re the one always telling other people to put yourself out there and be positive.”
“I think I might need to go shopping first.”
“Just unbutton your shirt.”
I looked down at my top. I had eaten the rest of the free cake for breakfast and apparently some of it was on my shirt.
“Anthym’s right. I’m a mess.”
“Grayson doesn’t care what’s all over your clothes because he’s going to be taking them off. And so are you.” McKenna snapped her fingers. “Take it off!”
“I can’t send him a sext,” I hissed. “I haven’t ever even had, you know.”
“One, you better take that information with you to the grave; two, you’re not texting him. You’re going to leave him a sexy note,” McKenna said, pulling one of those instant photo printers out of her purse.
“Oh my gosh.”
I wasn’t a model. I liked to think I could take a pretty good selfie, assuming I wore sunglasses, lots of makeup, and the anglewas right. But a sexy photo? The bathroom air was a little chilly as I unbuttoned my blouse.
“Look cute,” McKenna ordered. “Make a sexy face. That’s … no, Lexi, you look like a flounder.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I wailed.
“And now she’s turning bright red. We’re just going to crop your face out and send Grayson a titty photo.”
“I thought this was a sexy-but-tasteful photo, not full-on porn.”
“Sometimes you have to pivot.”
“I feel like we might be overstepping boundaries with each other,” I said as I slowly removed my top and bra.
“We live together in a shoebox. You and I have seen more of each other and of Grenadine than should be considered humane,” she reminded me. “Now stick your chest out. Kind of curve your back and turn.”
“Ow!” Something twinged in my neck. “I’m too old for this.”
“So much negative talk. Think positive, sexy thoughts.” McKenna snapped a few photos with her phone camera.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” I asked nervously, putting my clothes back on.
“Straight guys like tits.” McKenna sent the photo to the miniprinter.
I paced around the bathroom as the photo of me appeared, bar by bar.
We both inspected the final product.
“So … you’re not a model, and I’m not a photographer, but Grayson is going to cream his pants when he sees this,” my friend said confidently. “Now all you have to do is sneak by Anthym, creep into his office, and leave it in his briefcase.”
My stomach churned.
McKenna stuck her head out of the bathroom door.
“SEAL Team Sex, move out!”
32
