Page 83 of Wag More Bark Less

I almost told Violet that both Jason and his mom had been harassing me for money, but the esthetician returned, bringing a second with her. No point in worrying Violet over nothing, I decided. Besides, the minute Luanne realized I had video evidence of her in my dress, she’d sing a different tune.

“Is this your first time?” my esthetician—Naomi—asked.

“No, but it’s been a while.”

Fuck, I was really doing this.

The last time I had a Brazilian, I was headed to Hawaii. The weekend Jason proposed. The weekend the course of my life permanently altered. Would we still be together if there’d never been a ring? Would we still be meeting up every three or four months in vacation destinations to spend long, romantic weekends together away from real-life obligations? Or would I have grown tired of waiting for our relationship to be more and left anyway?

“I think I’m a four,” I said to Violet once we were butterflied open on the tables. I was thankful the tables sat beside one another so I could look over without getting a full-on view of her vagina.

“Only a four?” she said, eyebrows drawn in skepticism. “When I found you in that Legion Hall, you were glowing. Or maybe that had something do with the man walking your dog. You want to tell me again that you’re not sleeping with Officer McGrumpy?”

“I’m not sleeping with him.” I sucked in a tight breath when the esthetician yanked the first time.

“Sorry,” she mouthed, covering the spot with her hand to help the sting.

“You left out the yet. And don’t bullshit me,” Violet scolded. “I know you better than anyone. Maybe he hasn’t penetrated you yet, but I know something happened. You might as well fess up before the torturing begins—and I don’t mean the Brazilian. You know I’ll get it out of you eventually. It’s up to you how embarrassing you want me to be about it.”

“How are you so mean? As the oldest, I thought that was my job.”

I winced again at the second pull. Sugaring wasn’t nearly as painful as waxing, but it still wasn’t what I’d consider a pleasant activity. Unless you were Violet, apparently. My sister hadn’t flinched once. But she’d also delivered two kids without epidurals, so I was fairly certain she was Superwoman in disguise.

“There’s not a mean bone in your body. Your damn blood type is empathy.”

“Fine,” I said, relenting. “He kissed me.”

“When?”

“The night after ice cream. We were walking back, and well, it just sort of happened.”

“And you didn’t immediately send me a video message after you got home to tell me all about it?”

“I was too mad.”

The last word came out an octave higher as a particularly sensitive area was ripped free of hair. Breathe through it, Maggie.

“You good?” Naomi asked.

“Yep.” I left out the part where I was currently regretting my life choices.

“Was he a bad kisser?” Violet asked.

“Unfortunately, he’s an amazing kisser.”

Who knew your toes could actually curl? Until Luke pushed me up against the log exterior of the bookstore and kissed me senseless, I thought that was something that only happened in romcoms. Not once in the three years I was with Jason did he ever kiss me like that. Not even the night we met in Cancun, when we thought our encounter would be just a fun, one-night stand.

“I don’t follow your logic.”

“I was supposed to get married tomorrow, in case you forgot.”

Violet turned as much as she could to look at me, which, with her legs butterflied open and her giant belly holding her down like an anchor, wasn’t much. But her intense stare left me feeling naked regardless.

“You like him.”

“We’re friends. And I think you skipped over the part where I said I was mad at him. He was the one who called the kiss a mistake.”

“And yet, he took your dog for a walk.”