Noemi:I’m going to kill dad if he doesn’t stop talking about pickleball. He’s joined a league, and they are getting matching gear. Apparently Tony, his old pal from Accounting, knows somebody who might be interested in sponsoring them for a tournament. Who wants to fund a bunch of old men whacking a wiffle ball around??? WHY DID I MOVE BACK HOME? >:(
GOALPOST DANCER SQUAD GROUP CHAT:Who’s hitting up the Katy Perry audition in LA next week?
GOALPOST DANCER SQUAD GROUP CHAT:omg liana are u going? I got a call
GOALPOST DANCER SQUAD GROUP CHAT:KP is washed up, sorry not sorry.
GOALPOST DANCER GROUP CHAT:I wanna wear a bikini and shake my a$$ to California Gurls, idc if she’s washed up. I heard she treats her crew well.
GOALPOST DANCER GROUP CHAT:Triniti ur just saying she’s washed because u didn’t get a call be so for real
GOALPOST DANCER GROUP CHAT:First of all, bitch…
Maeve:Sterling, I’m going to call Zhavia. PROTEIN.
Kai:hope the song is going well xxx [IMAGE]
GOALPOST DANCER GROUP CHAT:…
Your breath quickens. The 10 seconds that it takes to mute the group chat is too long; you want to see whatever photo Kai sent you.
You are… not disappointed.
It would be out of character for him to send you a nude. You would never do the same for him, as you have a lot of strong feelings regarding naked pictures of yourself floating around the invisible boundaries of cyberspace, no matter how many firewalls are in place or how much you trust the recipient. It’s the same reason you won’t indulge in dirty video calls with him or any of the lovers you had previously, no matter how far the distance or long the separation. Hackers exist. Regardless of how quickly your career would or would not recover from an X-rated leak, you know yourself. You would never, ever be able to walk out on a stage again or look some talk show host in the eye if they hadallseen you in a private moment. It’s hard to imagine anything worse. So you don’t do nudes or lewds. Kai hasn’t voiced an opinion either way, but you expect nothing, since you can’t reciprocate.
The picture isn’t, like,pornographicor anything. Technically, he’s fully covered. Technically.
You haven’t been in the Cyclones’ locker room, but you can guess that’s where he is. Steam floats around his heels. Clearly, there’s still a hot shower going on in his vicinity. He’s wearing only a towel. It’s slung low on his hips and held in place with one hand, the one not taking the picture in the full-length mirror before him. He’s not putting much tension on the towel, which isn’t very big to begin with, and it’s slipping. Just above his knuckles, the dark bristle of coarse, trimmed hair rises from the delta between his legs. His phone is covering most of his facial features, but you could swear that you see the corner of a grin on the other side of the screen. Under the towel, his thighs are thick and muscular. Kai is a rather talented photographer; the picture is framed perfectly.
It’s pretty much a guarantee that your face is givingeverythingaway. You take a quick peek around and thank god for the fact that Zhavia has wandered off. Your cheeks feel hot.
You:Wow…
Kai:is that all I get? good wow/bad wow?
You:Umm… kinda speechless. Definitely good wow.
Kai:want the back view? think I’m boutta drop this damn towel ;)
You should not be this het up about the sight of something you have seen at least one hundred times in person by now. Your thumb’s still on your phone. There is a very real concern that you are going to pop a boner in the middle of Zhavia’s studio. You gather the blanket further onto your lap and are silently grateful for the fact that the couch is against a wall.
You:Let’s see.
The phone dings, and you nearly jump out of your seat. He clearly had the photo locked and loaded. Your throat feels thick when you swallow, and you sink further down the couch cushions.
Kai:[IMAGE]
You give him credit; he’s not showing his face. He’s in full rear profile to the camera, which he’s aimed over his shoulder. And you do mean “rear” profile. His trapezius and latissimus dorsi muscles stand out in stark relief, but your eyes are drawn to his ass. It’s absolute perfection. Sculpted and firm, yet with a juiciness that makes you want to sink your teeth in. Youhavesunk your teeth in it before. Your mouth has a sense memory of his skin, of the saltiness where his ass cheek meets his upper thigh. All that dark skin on display. Beneath the blanket, you aredefinitelyreacting to his photo.
Kai:you like?
Anything you say now is going to be inadequate. You type out and delete multiple filthy responses, mentally weighing just now much you are comfortable saying. In the end, you are too chickenshit to cast your horny thoughts into the wide-open expanse of the cyber sea. Knowing that he can see you have been typing for a while, you finally settle on something innocent, hoping he will read into the subtext.
You:I’m coming down to Miami tomorrow.
Kai:oh? news to me
You:I just decided.
