Falling Down(25)

I laugh. "Thanks. It really is hot. It's making me sweat under my boobs and that's just gross."
He laughs. "Too much information, girlie."
I nod. "Twenty minutes?"
They all murmur their agreement.
Sera jumps up and down a bit as we walk back to the changing room. "We're really doing this. I can't believe it," she says twirling in a circle.
"We are." And I'm scared shitless. What if we suck? What if we fail? What if we can't find decent band members? What if the ones we choose get hooked on drugs? What will the rules on the bus be if we tour? There is so much to think about and my brain is overloading.
"Stop it," Sera snaps.
"What?"
"You know what. Knock it off. We haven't even gotten started yet and you're freaking out about shit you don't need to be freaking out about."
She knows me so well.
"Unh."
"Oh boy. You're 'unh'-ing?"
"I'd 'eh' but people make fun of us for doing that."
"Valid."
"You've been reading Jay McLean again, haven't you?"
"I have. Logan Matthews is such an * hottie. I can't get enough."
"Agreed."
I stand behind the changing partition and slip off the heat suctioning torture device known as a black leather dress and breathe a sigh of relief. Then I proceed to stomp on it.
"Gross."
"What?" Sera asks.
"Boob sweat. I need a washcloth."
"Well go get one."
"I'm naked and I'm not putting that sweat trap back on."
There's a knock on the other side of the partition and I gasp, pulling the leather up to cover my nakedness.
There's a low chuckle from the other side and then a hand appears at the top with a wet washcloth.
"Oh my God."
"Yeah, you'll be saying that to me a lot, Cupcake."
"I can't reach, can you just drop it?"
"Sure."
The washcloth drops and I catch it, dropping the dress and washing beneath, around, and all over my breasts.
"This feels amazing. God, Jesse, you have no idea."
He chuckles again. "You'll be saying that a lot too, but I'll have an idea because I'll be making it happen."
I snort. I don't bother to deny it. I am definitely going to be sharing some f*cktastic moments with Jesse Kingston. What red-blooded woman with a pulse would deny herself that pleasure? Certainly not this one.
I pull on my sports bra, yoga pants and t-shirt then sit on the bench with my shoes and socks.
"It's safe to come back here now."
Jesse comes around the side and eyes the leather dress on the ground.
"Did you trample it?"
"Yes," I say with venom.
He smiles. "Why?"
"It sucked all the fluids out of my body and pushed them on and around my boobs and any crevices it could find. It's made of evil."
He chuckles. "That bad?"
"And then some." I tie my second shoe and sit up. I meet his gaze, there's humor there. "Sure, sure, laugh it up at my expense. It's all fun and games until I'm dehydrated and pass out and need you to resuscitate me."
"Oh baby, I'll resuscitate you anytime you want."
"Pig."
"Oink."
I laugh. "See? This is why."
"Why what?"
"This," I say waving my hand around, "is why I think you're cute."
"There's way more to it than that, Lucy. Stop lying to yourself. It'll make things easier in the end."
"What things?"
"You accepting that you're mine."
My eyes widen. "Yours?" I squeak.