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“Ew. No. Girl, you still have a lot to learn about being a female. But luckily, you have me as your best friend.”
“I’m twenty-seven years old. If I don’t know how to be a girl now, then it’s not going to happen,” I said.
“You’ve got curves in all the right places, sweetheart. You’ve got that long brown hair and those light blue eyes. I see men staring at you no matter where we go. I know what’s underneath those clothes. We hit the gym every damn day. But you don’t know how to dress yourself. It’s all jeans and T-shirts and the occasional pencil skirt that looks awful on you.”
“Awful? Pencil skirts look awesome on girls with curves,” I said.
“Yes, when you’re in your thirties. But when you’re still living it up in your twenties, it’s an entirely different sense of fashion. Plus, if you’re going to win big at the auction, you’re gonna need to spice your shit up.”
I stopped what I was doing and stared at Ana. “Uh, what ‘auction’ are you referring to Ana?”
Ana smiled deviously and batted her eyelashes at me. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I signed you up for the charity date auction. You know, you get on stage and hot guys fight over who gets to spend an evening with you?”
My heart stopped in my chest and my mouth went dry. “Ana! Why the fuck would you do that?”
Ana rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Because, you need some sort of fun in your life. Plus, it’s for a good cause. All the money raised is going toward Jeff Banks’ medical bills.”
“Wait, Jeff Banks? The guy from the class below us that had cancer?” I asked.
“Yep. You don’t want to be a dick and not help your fellow man, do you?” Ana asked, knowing damn well that I couldn’t say no now.
I sighed and shook my head. “Fine,” I said.
Ana giggled and clapped her hands like a little girl. “Good. Trust me, you’re gonna thank me for this later.”
“I doubt it. Still, auction or not, I’ll stick to my jeans and T-shirts,” I said.
“For the love of fuck, please don’t tell me that’s all you packed.”
“It’s not all I packed,” I said, grinning. “I’m just playing with you.”
“So if I pull open your drawers, I’m going to see all your jeans in there?” she asked.
“I packed a couple, but it’s not the bulk of my suitcase.”
“Unzip it,” she said.
“What?”
“Open up your suitcase. I’m checking your shit.”
“It’s a good thing we don’t live together. I’d have killed you by now,” I said.
I stepped off to the side and let Ana rummage through my things. She was tossing everything I had folded and packed for myself as I rolled my eyes. I loved her to death, but we were completely different people. She was obsess
ed with makeup and fashion and Louis Vuitton heels, and I couldn't have cared less what I wore on a regular basis. I dressed up for work and to go out, but the rest of the time was spent in very comfortable jeans and shirts I could breathe in.
Not shirts that hiked my tits up to my chin.
Ana started rifling through my closet as I sat down. She was going to single-handedly repack me for this cruise, so I let her have at it. I had a separate backpack already in the trunk of my car, packed with jeans and my most comfortable off-the-shoulder shirts. I grinned as she packed skirts and dresses, heels I didn’t even remember purchasing, and panty sets that made me roll my eyes.
“We’re gonna get you laid on this trip. Mark my words,” Ana said.
“Have you seen the RSVP list?” I asked.
Ana sighed as she zipped up my suitcase.
“I have, yes.”
