“Why is that?” Rowan leaned forward slightly.
The thought of how Juniper might answer this question intrigued her. The idea of Juniper fantasizing about someone was causing Rowan’s internal heat to spike.What are her fantasies she hasn’t told me about like?She had to cross her legs in an effort to dull the thumping between them.
“Didn’t you secretly have a poster of her at the back of your locker?”
Rowan smiled with a visible tinge of self-consciousness. “I did.”
“I should’ve known,” Juniper smirked.
A desire within Rowan burned deeply to turn that smirk into something else.
“Who was yours, Junie?” Kyle asked, turning toward her.
Juniper finally broke eye contact with Rowan. She looked over at Kyle who had a suspicious look on his face.
“Taylor Hanson,” she answered without a hint of irony.
“What?!” Wren exclaimed as she threw her body forward in her chair.
“Aren’t you like, not into men at all?” Kyle asked in disbelief.
“No, I get it,” Rowan announced to their group, “The MMMBop video?”
Juniper threw her head back and laughed.
“Ohh, I think I get it now,” Wren joined in her laughter.
“If you know, you know,” Juniper shrugged.
“I’m confused as hell,” Kyle said as he threw his hands in the air.
Wren turned their attention back to the game. “Beckett, you’re awful quiet. Why is that?” She challenged in her direction.
Beckett leaned forward, put her elbows on her spread knees, and stared directly at Wren. That felt a little intense for the moment. But when Rowan glanced over at Wren, she had matched the energy.
“I’m a little older.”
“So? How old are you?” Juniper butted in.
“I’m 42,” she confirmed, never breaking eye contact with Wren, despite answering Juniper’s question.
“That’s not that much older.” Wren scoffed. “Tell us.”
Watching them challenge each other, then accept and match the intensity made Rowan feel like she was watching a hostage negotiation.
Beckett sat back in her chair and pulled at the miniscule creases in her pants to straighten them. She looked back at Wren. “Pamela Anderson.”
The whole group burst into laughter.
“The formidable, dangerous, always serious Councilwoman Lightfoot had a thing for Pamela Anderson. I would have never, ever guessed,” Kyle laughed through his words as he wiped his eyes.
“You have a thing for big tits?” Wren asked over the laughter.
Beckett chuckled into the mouth of the beer bottle she was holding precariously by the neck between her thumb and two other fingers as she took a swig. “More like a thing for women in tiny red bathing suits.”
Wren seemed to consider this. She looked down at her own tiny red outfit.
“But to answer your question, the size of the tits doesn’t matter much to me. Would I turn down bouncing tits in my face of any size? No way in hell.”
