I pull out her phone and put in the passcode she gives me. “It should be the first thing that comes up in the camera roll,” she tells me.
It is not the first thing in her camera roll.
The first image in Helen’s picture roll is a selfie of her lying reclined in her bed, smiling up at the camera and biting her lower lip. Her hair is tousled, her expression playful and teasing. She’s wearing a very thin white undershirt, through which I can see the full shape of her voluptuous breasts, and the red lacy panties I saw her looking at in the lingerie store.
My brain short-circuits. I stare at the image for longer than I mean to, longer than Ishould, unable to force myself to scroll away. The funny thing is, even a week ago I would’ve thought she intentionally tricked me into seeing this photo, a realGee, shucks, I forgot that sexy picture of me was there waiting for youkind of thing. Now, after spending the last day on the road with her, I know that isn’t what she intended. It isn’t even a question in my mind. Which makes me a skeevy pervert for still looking at it when she didn’t mean for me to see it, and I know this, but I also can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
Finally I force my thumb to man up and do what my eyes can’t. I scroll to the next picture, hoping to find the credit card bill. But no, of course it’s another sexy picture. This time she’s taking a shot over her shoulder in the reflection of the mirror behind her, so I can see her luscious ass straining against that thin red lace.
“What do you think?” Helen asks. “Did anything catch your eye?”
Again, if this were a week ago, I’d feel sure she was intentionally messing with me. Now, hearing the genuine innocence in her voice, I feel like even more of a scuzz for staring. “Um…” I try to swipe again, but am assaulted by yet another pose, another image that will be burned into my brain. “I’m having some trouble finding it.”
Helen gives me a questioning frown. Then I see the exact moment she realizes whatelsewas on her camera roll. Her eyes widen, and she jerks the steering wheel into the next lane before quickly correcting herself. Lucky no one was coming the other way or Kitty would need a new fender.
“Oh my gosh!” Helen reaches for the phone, throwing it into the back seat. She’s tomato red now and I can see she’s mortified. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, it’s…I didn’t mean to, either, I was just…” I wave my hand inarticulately, looking out the window. Damn. Just when we’d started to break the ice. I realize if we go on like this, we’re going to be two awkward strangers again, taking turns apologizing and pleasing and thanking after every other sentence. Sucking in a breath, I take a bit of a gamble. “So, you decided to go with the red lacy panties after all, huh?”
I glance sidelong at Helen, who stares at me, jaw dropped, before she starts to fight off a grin as she turns her eyes back to the road. “Well, obviously I did. Yes.”
I laugh, and she laughs, too, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I just made you look at pictures of me in my underwear.”
“It was real torture,” I assure her, and she takes a swat at me. Laughing, I catch her hand before she can make contact. As our fingers touch, our eyes meet, and a jolt ofsomethingpasses through me.
Clearing my throat, I release her and look away again, not totally sure why my heart is pounding in my chest like I’ve just been sprinting after a bail jumper.
Then a sudden thought strikes me, souring the moment. I run a hand over the back of my neck. “Were those…for Shane?”
It’s absolutely not a question I should ask, nor is it one that I have any right to know, but I’m still relieved at the perplexed look Helen gives me. “ForShane? Why would those be for Shane?”
Pure relief. There’s no denying that’s what I’m feeling. Most likely because Shane’s a fuckboy of the first order, but also because I have to admit that the thought of him seeingherlike that, of her smiling that way at the camera forhim, makes me feel a bit sick to my stomach. “I dunno. I saw you two on that date. Wasn’t sure how serious it was.”
Helen shakes her head. “Not at all serious. The ten minutes that you saw us on that date were the only ten minutes we’ve spent together outside of the library.”
I feel another surge of relief, until a new worrisome thought sours me again. “Some other guy, then?”
She shoots me a look. “How many men do you think I’m juggling at once?”
“Who’d you take the pictures for?” I counter. I say it like it’s a frivolous question, just something to pass the time, but I’m holding my breath a little as I wait for the answer.
Helen takes a deep breath. “It’s going to sound stupid, but…I took them for me.”
A beat passes as I process her answer. “Like for a self-esteem boost when you post them for your followers?”
“My followers?” She connects the dots and shakes her head. “Oh, no. I’m not on social media.”
Wow. Talk about a different species from Vera. “So how were they for you?”
Helen’s entire face is pinkening adorably. “You know I’m still avirgin.” She says that last word as a whisper, like it’s a naughty word. It almost sounds that way, actually, coming out of her mouth. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to think of myself as being sexy, so I thought I’d. You know. Practice.”
Fuuuuuck me. I amnotgoing to think about Helen practicing being sexy, or imagine the other things she might do to put herself in the mood. Nope. Definitely not going to think of that.
I clear my throat. “Well, for what it’s worth, you nailed it. Those were definitely…very sexy.”
Not sure why I said it. I’m not trying to be creepy, just trying to let her know her little post-nun homework is working. She deserves to know she’s done a good job, that’s all.
Helen looks over at me. Our eyes meet again. I feel that same charge to my chest, like someone’s just put some defibrillators to me and gotten my heart going again. “Thank you,” she murmurs, sliding her gaze back to the road.
