Page 22
Story: The Puckable Playbook
I squeeze her hands. “One hundred percent.”
“I kind of like the sound of that.” She grins to herself.
“Enough not to pull at the hem?”
“Hell no. I have to get this thing off me. My stomach is chilly, and I have a major push-up bra on.”
I laugh, watching as she tugs at her bra. “You know what? Let me look at your clothes with you.”
“Yeah?”
I shrug, feeling more confident now that she’s handling this so well. “Why not? I’ve seen my sister get ready. How hard could it be?”
The answer: Very hard. Holy shit. For only seeing this girl wear the same type of clothes before today, she has so many.
I check my watch again. My parents are going to be here any minute and we’ve already gone through five outfits, and all five looked amazing but had her fidgeting. “Okay, listen,” I finally say to her. “What would past you pick out if I told you we were going to meet up with my parents?”
She stares at the clothes strewn around the room. “Maybe a pair of joggers and a…” She leaps forward and picks out a white shirt that has some fancy handwriting on it that spells Literature and leads to an old quill.
“Okay, perfect. Keep the shirt, nix the sweats. Either wear jeans or the leggings you tried on earlier. You know that thing girls do when they tie up a shirt if it hangs too low? Do that.”
“Like an 80s knot or something? Put a scrunchie around it?”
“No, not that.” I hold my hands up. “You know, let’s just see what you look like with that on, and we’ll go from there.”
I scoot out of the room and wipe sweat from my brow. This is taxing. Who would’ve thought?
My phone pings, and it’s a text from my sister saying they’re right around the corner. I text back that I can’t wait to see them before yelling out, “Len!” Turning, I’m about to tell her they’re almost here when she comes out of the room.
She stops just outside, wearing the black leggings from earlier along with her white Literature shirt. It hangs low on her, but already, I’m loving this direction.
“You look great. Tuck the front in a little?”
She pulls her leggings out and shoves the front of her shirt into her pants. I bite my lip and step toward her to help. She freezes when I grab her hip with one hand to steady her, and mymouth goes dry. Quickly, I tug out one whole side, letting it settle at her hip. The other is tucked in, showing off her shape.
“There,” I say, backing up, my fingers on fire.
“Does it look okay?”
“Do you feel comfortable?” I counter.
She shrugs. “I’m wearing one of my favorite shirts.”
“So, what you’re learning is that you can be yourself and still be puckable?”
She drops her head to glare at me. “I bet you annoy your sister, too.”
“Well, yeah, I’m the older brother. It’s my job.” I take her in again. She has far less makeup on than I originally thought. It only looked like a lot since I don’t normally see her wearing any. Honestly, I don’t know who wouldn’t look at her. “You look perfect.”
“Just the way I am?”
“Just the way you are.”
She turns and peers into a mirror, shaking her head. “New and improved.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Len
“I kind of like the sound of that.” She grins to herself.
“Enough not to pull at the hem?”
“Hell no. I have to get this thing off me. My stomach is chilly, and I have a major push-up bra on.”
I laugh, watching as she tugs at her bra. “You know what? Let me look at your clothes with you.”
“Yeah?”
I shrug, feeling more confident now that she’s handling this so well. “Why not? I’ve seen my sister get ready. How hard could it be?”
The answer: Very hard. Holy shit. For only seeing this girl wear the same type of clothes before today, she has so many.
I check my watch again. My parents are going to be here any minute and we’ve already gone through five outfits, and all five looked amazing but had her fidgeting. “Okay, listen,” I finally say to her. “What would past you pick out if I told you we were going to meet up with my parents?”
She stares at the clothes strewn around the room. “Maybe a pair of joggers and a…” She leaps forward and picks out a white shirt that has some fancy handwriting on it that spells Literature and leads to an old quill.
“Okay, perfect. Keep the shirt, nix the sweats. Either wear jeans or the leggings you tried on earlier. You know that thing girls do when they tie up a shirt if it hangs too low? Do that.”
“Like an 80s knot or something? Put a scrunchie around it?”
“No, not that.” I hold my hands up. “You know, let’s just see what you look like with that on, and we’ll go from there.”
I scoot out of the room and wipe sweat from my brow. This is taxing. Who would’ve thought?
My phone pings, and it’s a text from my sister saying they’re right around the corner. I text back that I can’t wait to see them before yelling out, “Len!” Turning, I’m about to tell her they’re almost here when she comes out of the room.
She stops just outside, wearing the black leggings from earlier along with her white Literature shirt. It hangs low on her, but already, I’m loving this direction.
“You look great. Tuck the front in a little?”
She pulls her leggings out and shoves the front of her shirt into her pants. I bite my lip and step toward her to help. She freezes when I grab her hip with one hand to steady her, and mymouth goes dry. Quickly, I tug out one whole side, letting it settle at her hip. The other is tucked in, showing off her shape.
“There,” I say, backing up, my fingers on fire.
“Does it look okay?”
“Do you feel comfortable?” I counter.
She shrugs. “I’m wearing one of my favorite shirts.”
“So, what you’re learning is that you can be yourself and still be puckable?”
She drops her head to glare at me. “I bet you annoy your sister, too.”
“Well, yeah, I’m the older brother. It’s my job.” I take her in again. She has far less makeup on than I originally thought. It only looked like a lot since I don’t normally see her wearing any. Honestly, I don’t know who wouldn’t look at her. “You look perfect.”
“Just the way I am?”
“Just the way you are.”
She turns and peers into a mirror, shaking her head. “New and improved.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Len
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