Winter: Jerk.
Haze: Prude.
Winter: Perv.
Haze: Thanks.
Winter: No, but seriously, I can’t sleep.
Haze: Too busy picturing me naked?
Ironically, that’s my brain’s cue. Images intoxicate every inch of available space in my mind. I see his half-naked body spread out across the uncomfortable couch in the barely lit basement, his bulging muscles as he stretches and pushes the blanket off his… Okay, chill.
Winter: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Winter: Maybe.
Haze: Come downstairs and I’ll show you more than a picture.
Feeling all hot and bothered, I stop answering to think of a good reply. The dots show up almost right away.
Haze: ???
Enjoying his desperation, I wait a bit more.
Haze: You still there?
Winter: Still here.
Haze: Are you coming down??
Winter: Not sure.
Haze: I see what you’re doing. I could just take care of myself and do without the teasing, you know ;)
I laugh at his text and consider my next move for a few seconds. Finally, I peel my oversized T-shirt up and open my phone’s camera. I’m only wearing panties since I tossed my bra—I could never sleep with a bra on; I will not submit myself to such torture. I make sure the camera doesn’t catch my face, because I may trust Haze with all of my being, which is the only reason I’m willing to do this, but who knows where this could end up in a worst-case scenario. The room is dark, but light enough that you can discern the curves of my bare body as I cover my nipples with my forearm and snap a pic. My fingers are shaking, both with excitement and nerves when I type a reply and attach the picture.
Winter: I can take care of myself, too.
Winter Kingston sent a picture.
It doesn’t even take a second.
Haze: Get your cute little ass downstairs NOW.
A chuckle leaves my lips. Giddy with anticipation, I tug my shirt back into place and slide a pair of white shorts up my legs. Sneaking out into the hall and tiptoeing down the stairs like a criminal, I hold my breath as I pass my parents’ room. I see the basement door in the distance.
Three more steps.
Two steps.
One.
I lay a shaky hand on the handle. The door opens with a loud creak, and I wince, the possibility of getting caught just as thrilling as it is terrifying. I wait and wait for something to happen. For someone to walk in and bust me. I wait for a moment that never comes.
The basement is engulfed in darkness. I can’t see anything past the first step, and the thought of sleeping down there alone sends shivers, and I don’t mean the good kind, down my spine. No wonder Haze can’t sleep.
Come on, Winter. Don’t be a pussy.