Page 4 of Bailey Bangs Her Brother's Best Friend
“Ah.Pricey.”It’s the nicest home in Here, not far from the lodge, and has five bedrooms.I’ve been there a few times with Kit, whose parents own it.They have a variety of rentals that were grandfathered in when the town limited short-term rentals a few years ago, essentially eliminating all Airbnbs owned by out-of-towners.
She holds my eye with a smirk.“I’m single.I have a management job at a successful renewable energy start-up.While I live in an expensive city, I have a small apartment, but no kids, no pets, no spouse.AndI work sixty-hour weeks and haven’t taken a vacation in fifteen months.Money is not a problem.”
She reaches over and flips the tablet back on.“There’s more I want to show you?—”
She swipes, and this time I see the wordsblack thong.
“Nope.”I snatch it out of her hands for good this time.
“I don’t think I’m the right person for this, Bailey.It would be...it would be...”About twenty descriptors come to mind, and none of them fit right.It would be sexy, but is that a good thing?I’ve held off my crush on Bailey for years.It would be weird because I’d have to keep a secret from Hunter, but I don’t want to say that and have her think her body is weird.Anything I choose is fraught with hazards.
“Silas,” she says.“Look at me.”
I blink.I’ve been staring at the coffee-stained tissues on my desk.
Bailey’s eyes are big and bright.She’s holding the tablet like a shield.
When she speaks, she sets it down—nothing between us.
“I’m doing this for me.I’ve spent years listening to other people’s opinions about my body, and I’m done with that.This is about taking control back.I’m not a size two, and I never will be.”
My chest tightens.She’s sitting there, showing me a crack in her walls, asking me to help her see what I’ve always seen.And she has no idea—absolutely no idea—how beautiful she’s always been to me.
Or maybe she does know, and that’s exactly why she’s asking me.Because she thinks I’ll be kind.
Damn it.That’s a fucking good reason for me to do this.It’s going to kill me, but the idea of anyone else taking these pictures and not treating her tenderly is even worse.
In my silence, Bailey speaks again with more vulnerability and softness than I’ve ever heard from her.“I just...I want to see myself the way someone else might see me.Someone who doesn’t have all the baggage.”
I pick the tablet back up, letting the professional photographer part of my brain kick in.The lighting is window-lit, late afternoon based on the warmth.They’ve used a reflector to bounce light back and create that glow.The Taylor house has those west-facing french doors in the master bedroom.We could replicate this, maybe even improve it if we timed it for golden hour.
I mentally calculate: forty-five minutes before sunset, reflector, maybe a sheer curtain to diffuse...
Stop.Stop planning this.You haven’t even said yes yet.
I look back up at Bailey and she looks so hopeful.
One time when we were kids—maybe I was eight?That would have put Bailey around eleven?—Bailey refused to go to school.Nothing her parents or Hunter did worked, and she actually ended up staying home for a few days.Her parents talked to a child psychologist, but before they could get her an appointment, one of the girls at school told the teacher Bailey was being bullied.
Fucking Ben Hartly had been running around calling her Big Willy.
When the school didn’t do anything about it, Hunter and I took care of it ourselves.I held Ben down while Hunter bloodied his nose.We both got suspended.
Worth every single second.
Bailey cried when she found out—not because Ben got hurt, but because we’d stood up for her.Like she couldn’t believe someone would.
That’s the look she’s giving me now.
It was easy to defend Bailey against Ben.This time, I can’t defend Bailey against herself.She has to do it on her own, and if I can give her the tools to do it, then I will.
Even if it’s self-torture.
I meet her eyes.“I’ll do it.”
Her whole face lights up.“Really?”
“Really.When were you thinking?”
