Page 25 of What Did I Miss?

Makayla stands alone in front of Frillies, the one and only lingerie store in Goldbrooke. The faceless mannequins displayed in the window are covered (or rather, barely covered) in floral embroidered sets that probably cost a bomb.

Cece assured her this would be fun in the same breath she promised to arrive on time.

She’s twenty-five minutes late. If this happened yesterday, Makayla would have harassed her with texts, demanding to know where the hell she was.

Today, she’s riding a magnificent buzz after her date with Beau.

They chatted for so long they drained his car battery and had to call roadside assistance.

‘Don’t get mad,’ is the first thing Cece says when Makayla answers her call.

Makayla rolls her eyes, waiting for the ‘mother card’ to drop.

‘Tilly has another earache. I’m at the doctor’s office waiting to—’

‘Why didn’t you message me to cancel? I’m already here.’ A familiar irritation prickles beneath her skin. Just because she doesn’t have kids doesn’t make her time less important.

‘I know. I’m sorry. To make it up to you, I’ve called Shirley, and she’s going to take good care of you. Send me pics and I’ll help you decide. Gotta go.’ The call ends.

‘Wait? Who’s Shirley?’

‘I am,’ says a woman wearing a measuring tape like a scarf.

Shirley’s dressed head to toe in animal print. Makayla’s no fashionista, but even she knows zebra stripes and leopard spots don’t go together. The dizzying look is completed with chunky gold bracelets that jingle as Shirley scrunches the ends of her perm.

‘I’ll come back another time.’ Makayla eyes the escalator.

‘Cece told me you’d say that, and to remind you to get something special for future rendezvous with the new man in your life. Tell me all about the stud.’ Shirley wiggles her noodle-thin eyebrows, eager for details.

‘Cece has a big mouth and can’t get her facts straight. I’m here for me, not some guy.’ Makayla lifts her chin.

‘Well, what are you waiting for? Come in.’ Shirley leads the way, trotting through the door in snakeskin stilettos that defy gravity.

The store is bursting with customers that Shirley knows by name. Regulars? Who knew that was a thing at lingerie stores? Not Makayla, who goes about her day in T-shirt bras and full-brief undies she bought when they were on special at ALDI.

‘Something naughty or nice?’ Shirley stands in the centre aisle, pointing to sections like a flight attendant showing her where the exits are. ‘Are you looking for babydoll dresses or spanking miniskirts? A peek-a-boo chemise or crotchless knickers? We’ve got everything.’

This lady’s not lying. There’s a lot of silk, mesh and latex to take in. The options are overwhelming, and the more time Makayla spends sifting through them, the more she wishes Cece was here. She wouldn’t suggest useless underwear with holes.

‘This is an open-cup harness bra.’ Shirley holds up a garment that looks like it should be fitted to a horse. ‘It glows in the dark. Would you like to try it on?’

Makayla checks the price tag. ‘Ninety dollars and it doesn’t cover your breasts? No thanks.’ Is Shirley working on commission or having a laugh? ‘I was thinking more along the lines of a simple top and bottom. Like the ones in the window, minus the flowers.’

‘No.’ Shirley steps in front of a rack that fits the bill.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Cece warned me you’d be difficult. She also said you can’t tick this off your list if you walk out of here with a boring brassiere. Why don’t I pick out some pieces for you?’

Makayla has three options. One: Drive forty minutes to the next major shopping centre. Two: Order online, where she’ll inevitably get the sizing wrong. Three: Suck it up.

‘Fine.’ Makayla drags her feet into the change room.

With its red velvet draping, dim lighting and ornate mirror, the space is as decadent as the set of Moulin Rouge . As promised, Shirley fills the hooks with endless garments.

‘These have padding. You could use some volume,’ Shirley says matter-of-factly.

Did she have to point out the obvious? The fact that she’s lacking in that department is one reason lingerie is on Makayla’s list. The other is now redundant.

She’d thought sexy underwear would help kick-start her libido, which vanished so long ago.

When married, she was never in the mood.

Not surprising when Warren’s mating ritual involved belching after he skolled a beer and then asking, ‘Wanna root?’

Makayla shimmies into a one-piece thingy that’s as thin as a cobweb.

‘Make sure you lean forward and let your boosies fall into the cups,’ Shirley yells unnecessarily from the other side of the curtain.

Out of fear of Shirley getting handsy, Makayla complies, and when upright, her breasts are plumper than ever.

The bodysuit hugs in all the right places and her fingertips glide against the delicate lace.

Besides the foofy bow pinned below her cleavage, it’s not terrible.

Would Beau enjoy something sweet like this?

Would he rip it off immediately or take his time, unwrapping her like a present?

Remembering Cece’s request, Makayla taps through to her camera app and, out of nowhere, pulls a juicy pout. No time for do-overs – send. This one? She removes the ensemble and flings it into the maybe pile.

Makayla grabs a faux leather corset next. Finally, something she can get on board with. It fits like a glove and the material is so slinky she has to run her hands all over it. Embracing her inner Cat Woman, she strikes a sassy claw pose. Snap. Or this one? Purrr!

There’s a stand in the corner filled with floggers, paddles and other unfamiliar props. Makayla captures the back of the outfit, taking a whip to an exposed butt cheek and chuckling as she sends it. Cece will get a real kick out of this.

So far, this saucy number is a frontrunner. However, getting out of it is impossible. Makayla attempts it solo, not wanting Shirley to come in and accost her. She wriggles, stretches and contorts with no luck. Clearly, this contraption was designed to be removed by another person.

Taking a breather, Makayla hears Cece’s reply buzzing through. It’s about time. But it’s Beau’s name that appears, and a smile finds its way to Makayla’s lips. They parted ways in the wee hours of the morning, and he’s missing her already.

Sorry. Just got out of the shower. Might need to take a cold one. Does this mean there’ll be another date? With no rules?

Makayla’s pulse pounds in her ears. What has she done? She scrolls up, confirming her worst nightmare – she sent those photos to Beau. Her legs give way and an ottoman breaks her fall as she plummets to the ground.

‘No, no, no, noooooo.’

‘Is everything okay in there? Want me to—’

‘Don’t come in!’

Those images are out there, forever , one data breach away from being discovered by creeps.

How should she reply to Beau?

That it was a mistake?

They were intended for someone else?

Think, Makayla, think .

Legs crossed, she bounces her knee as solutions stream in.

What if she continues? No, she’s never sexted before.

Asking Warren to pick up bread and milk on the way home was about as exciting as their text exchanges got.

Sexting isn’t on her list, but isn’t the whole point to try things she missed out on? This could be fun.

Immobilised by writer’s block, she turns to the internet for inspiration. Her cheeks blaze as she stumbles across explicit examples. She’s not a prude, but she’s never uttered those words before. Can she do this without coming across as a muppet?

I’ve been thinking about you.

Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god. Sweat turns to glue beneath her outfit. The only way this thing is coming off is with a chainsaw.

I’ve been thinking about you too. Would you like to know some of my thoughts? ;)

Of course he’s better at this than she is. Beau’s good at everything. Eager to find out about her starring role, she responds with a cringeworthy high-five emoji.

She has to redeem herself. Go ahead.

I’ve been thinking about how I’d like to taste you again.

The phone leaps from Makayla’s slimy fingers like a hot potato.

When she’s brushing her teeth, lining up at the supermarket, or filling her car with petrol, she often thinks about his impressive oral skills. How could she not? The man performed an exorcism with his tongue and the devil left her body twice!

The chat goes cold, which must mean it’s her turn.

I’ve been thinking about …

Can she write it?

… you bending me over a desk and using this …

She sends a photo of a studded paddle; spikes are out of her comfort zone.

What do you say, Mr Shepherd? ;)

Confidence swims through her veins before washing away as he teases out the reply. A video comes through and her heart hammers against her ribs. Well, that escalated quickly.

Fingers trembling, she hits play and in one fell swoop, Beau clears his desk. Come over now. You’re in big trouble.

The logical part of her brain warns her to hit the brakes. How will this help get him out of her system? But the rest of her is screaming, ‘Who cares?’ She’s keen for other new experiences, and the throb between her legs tells her she’ll be in expert hands.

I’m on my way.

Makayla yanks the price tag off and throws her clothes on over the top.

‘Ring it up, Shirley!’

Receipt in hand, Makayla races for the door, bumping into a familiar face perusing the costume section. It takes a moment to place the dark-haired beauty.

‘Rhiannon? Hi.’ Hopefully Ebony’s mum isn’t in a chatty mood.

‘Makayla. It’s lovely to see you.’ She chirps away without a hint of embarrassment about what’s in her hands. ‘It’s a librarian outfit, in case you were wondering. I thought I’d go with a bookish theme for the English teacher. Do you think he’ll like it?’

Makayla’s heart lurches. ‘Beau?’

‘Uh-huh. It made my day when he called and invited me to catch up next week.’