Page 29 of Dirty Like Brody
“Uh-huh,”Isaid.
Then he got quiet, and something strangehappened.
At the time, I really didn’t know what it was. But he was looking at me. Looking at me in a way I’d never seen him lookbefore.
And I just pretended it wasn’thappening.
Ilookedaway.
I held my breath as he leaned in, slowly. I felt his breath on my cheek. His lips, hot and soft, brushed against my skin, lingering for amoment.
He took abreath.
Then hewasgone.
I watched him walk to his bike, throw his leg over androaraway.
Two days later, my brother gave me “the talk,” along with a six-month supply of birth control pills and a box of condoms. Then he showed me a bunch of ghastly, gnarly pictures of venereal diseases on theinternet.
He had a fat lip and some bruises on his face that he wouldn’t tell me where he’dgotten.
And the next time I saw Brody, he had ablackeye.
Even at thirteen years old, I could put two-and-two together on that one. And at that point, I pretty much decided I was never, ever going to need those pills, or the condoms; not with all the overprotective big brothers around. I was never even going to be kissedforreal.
I was wrongaboutthat.
I was wrong about a lot ofthings.
ChapterSix
Jessa
“Oh,no. I think she’sgonnablow.”
I was standing in a room at the back of the lodge with the bride and the other bridesmaids, when Becca backed away from Katie with a sneer of sisterly annoyance… and rightintome.
I’d just been examining myself in one of the full-length mirrors, trying to make an eleventh hour decision on whether or not to dash back to my cabin for a pair ofpanties.
The bridesmaid dress I was wearing was a body-hugging, knee-length sheath dress in a rich champagne-colored satin, with asymmetrical ruching and a high neckline. It cut a killer silhouette and was flattering on all three of us who were wearing it. The back dipped low, and while I knew Devi and Becca had worn low-back bustiers, I’d skipped a bra altogether. I liked the feel of the fabric against my skin, and it was just thick, opaque and structured enough that I could get awaywithit.
Since I was already ditching the bra, Roni suggested, in her infinite, all-things-sex-related wisdom, that I go commando. No unsightly panty lines, she said, and there was such a “freedom” in it. A sense of sheer femininepower.
Well, sign me up. Anything I could do to empower myself on this particular day was a good idea,right?
Wrong.
I was starting to think this was a bad, bad idea, because going without panties did make me feel powerful. And sexy. Like horny sexy. And the very last thing I needed was anything making me hornier than I already would be in a room with Brody Mason and anopenbar.
Yeah. Reallybadidea.
But the eleventh hour was quickly evaporating and this day was not about me or my lack of panties. So I turned to the bride and put on asmile.
What greeted me was an image from the pages of a bridal magazine: Katie Bloom in a custom-made strapless champagne ball gown, a shade paler than the dresses we were wearing, with a fitted bodice and jaggedly-ruffled organza skirt layered over tulle. It was pretty, edgy, glamorous and perfect for her. Her thick, dark hair was piled in a loose, simple bun on the back of her head, a few strands framing her face, and she was wearing the rough-cut champagne sapphire earrings my brother had given her as a wedding gift. She looked like a total rock ’n’ rolldream.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping in to get a closer look. Under her makeup, Katie’s creamy complexion and rosy cheeks were taking on a definite greenish hue. Kind of like rottencheese.
“I’m fine,” she said, putting her hand on Devi’s shoulder forsupport.
