Heidi's Guide to Four Letter Words(22)

“And he looks good with his shirt off. Don’t forget to add that to the plus column,” Aubrey adds.

I can feel a blush heating my cheeks when an image of sweaty, shirtless Brent flashes through my mind.

“That!” Aubrey shouts, making me jump as she points at my face. “That’s what we need to work on. Your confidence. We all know you just thought about this guy half naked and sweaty. My husband—who is extremely hot, mind you—is sitting right next to me, and even I’m thinking about Brent half naked and sweaty and I’ve never met the guy. Own it. Be proud of the fact that you think he’s hot and want him. There’s no shame in that.”

“Tell me again how hot you think I am, and I’ll forgive you for picturing another man naked,” Jameson tells her with a smile.

“Bite me. You already know how hot you are. I am not here to stroke your ego. You have plenty of adoring fans for that.”

“I love it when you talk all sweet and romantic to me.” He laughs, pushing back his chair and standing up.

My heart flutters as I watch Aubrey reach up, clutch the front of his shirt in her fists, and yank him back down to her.

“How about I make it up to you later by talking dirty to you? I’ve got a scene I’m working on that needs some research. It involves chocolate sauce, a vibrator, and me wearing nothing but a smile,” she speaks softly, her lips right up against his as they stare into each other’s eyes.

“Anything in the name of research,” Jameson whispers back.

Aubrey gives him a quick kiss before pushing him away. He gives both of us a wave before he walks around the table and out the door to go back to the recording booth.

“Teach me how to do that,” I tell her once he’s gone.

“How to do what?”

“How to just… grab a guy and pull him close and say stuff like that to him. I want to learn that.”

“Ahhh, grasshopper, you’ve come to the right place,” Aubrey replies, rubbing her hands together like an evil mastermind. “We’re going to start off small and work our way up. Jameson said you asked him how I could write all those dirty sex scenes knowing people would read them, and that’s exactly how I did it. I started small. My first drafts were a mess and read like police reports with just the facts. Man on bed. Woman lying on top of him. They roll around. Clothes come off. End scene. I freaked out, thinking about my mom or my grandmother reading it and what they would think of me. It came down to me getting out of my own head and discovering what I wanted. It was my story and I needed to tell it how I wanted to. And I wanted my story to be real. People have sex. People have hot, dirty sex, and it’s glorious. You just need to find out how you want to tell your story. How you want to live your own life and do what makes you happy without worrying about what other people will think of you.”

“I want to be bold and fearless,” I tell her.

“Then, let’s make you bold and fearless.” She smiles. “Let’s do another game. I’m going to say some words, and you just repeat them back to me.”

I take a deep breath and nod for her to continue.

“Kiss,” she says.

“Kiss,” I easily reply.

“Sensual,” Aubrey states.

“Sensual,” I repeat back.

“His kiss was sensual.”

“His kiss was sens-s-s-s-sational. Oh, cripe. What is wrong with me?” I complain. “It’s like there’s a roadblock between my brain and my mouth that won’t let me put those words together.”

Aubrey laughs, grabbing the seat of her chair and scooting it around the table closer to me.

“I’m giving you two pieces of homework tonight. You’re going to do another podcast, and I’m going to give you a few excerpts from the book I’m working on now to practice reading during it.”

She quickly reaches over and pats my hand when she sees the look of anxiety on my face.

“Don’t worry; they’ll be tame. Just something small to start you off so you can work your way up to the good stuff.”

“Okay, I can do that. What’s my other homework?” I ask.

“You’re going to initiate a conversation with Brent.”

“Like, talk to him? As in, say something to him before he says something to me?”

“Exactly. But I’ll start you off small there too. Do you have his cell phone number? You can just send him a text.”

“Yes. We exchanged numbers the day he moved in, but I’ve never used it or anything. I can’t just text him! What if he only wanted me to use it in case of an emergency, because he was just being neighborly by giving it to me? Like, if my stove caught on fire, or someone was breaking into my house, or I got a piece of chicken lodged in my throat, or my fridge fell on me?”

“I’m concerned by the idea you’d be in a situation where your refrigerator would fall on you,” she muses. “Or that you would take a time-out from choking to death to text someone.”

“I am a single woman who lives alone. You have no idea what kind of horrors go through my mind on a daily basis.”

Aubrey gives my hand another squeeze of reassurance.

“All you’re going to do is text him, tell him you were thinking of him, and ask him how his day was. Easy-peasy.”