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"Turn on your side," Pierre exhales when my vagina is hairless.
"Oh," I shake my head, "no. I don't want that area waxed."
Pierre raises an eyebrow. "You need it waxed."
"Is my butthole hairy?" My mouth drops open in surprise.
Pierre grabs the stick from the wax warmer. "You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"
I turn on my side and cover my face with my hands. Being a girl is rough. Especially when you walk into the salon expecting a bikini wax and wind up with the Hollywood.
Chapter 15
The Skinny Dip
It's been four days since our kiss at the country club, and I still haven't heard from Wilder. He's usually the one who initiates bucket list items every weekend. But there's been no contact on his end. So, I decide to take matters into my own hands.
Are you free Friday night? I text him.
No, busy.
That was a fast response.
You have a date or something?
Yep.
With who?
Hendrix.
The girl who sucks at golf?
Yep.
I'm sure she's good at sucking other things, too.
A snarky but necessary reply.
I'm free Saturday, he texts back.
Guess he's ignoring my dig.
I was going to suggest we get a tattoo, but I'm feeling bold.
Skinny dip at the lake?
He doesn't answer right away, which causes a flash of panic to flare in my chest. Maybe that was too bold. But then, I see the little bubble with three dots pop up and I know he's typing.
Pick you up at 6.
Bold is definitely paying off today.
"Your mom let you take her car?" I ask as I plop into the driver's seat with my bag and towel.
"I dropped her off at the hospital," Wilder explains. "She's covering the night shift."
"Thanks for driving three doors down to pick me up," I try. I could have walked to his house, but Wilder was already waiting in the driveway when I stepped outside.
