“I’m doing a bubble bath shot,” Katelyn says. She draws a hot bath, filling it up with half a bottle of bubbles, and we step out to give her privacy until she’s under the cover of the white foam. “Ready!”
The bathroom is too small for anyone besides the two of us, but the girls stand in the tight hallway, encouraging her with much laughter and cheering.
“Bubble, bubble, you’re in trouble,” a giggly voice whispers to Katelyn from behind me. I smile but keep shooting.
Katelyn has her legs stretched up the wall, and the bubbles slide down their length from her crossed ankles. Her breasts are covered, but the illusion of skin through the tiny holes of air pockets is sexy in a subtle way.
“Got it,” I say.
“Your turn,” Shayanne says.
“Oh, no. That’s okay,” I argue. “The other pictures were already a hard enough sell to my nerves. Sexy shots are way out of my comfort zone.”
“Join the club,” Rix says dryly.
She’s right. This is one of those weird, wild experiences I’m never going to get the chance to have again, like Mom says. I need to let loose and live a little. I don’t have to do anything crazy, nothing uncomfortable, but pushing myself creatively means stepping out of the box sometimes. These women have done that tonight, letting me take their photos. It’s only fair that I do the same.
Once the decision is made in my mind, my heart gets on board and starts racing. Fear, excitement, nerves, and giddiness war in equal measure.
“Okay. What should I do?”
Help. I need some guidance here. Maybe a divine intervention? Well, probably not that, considering I’m taking sexy photos.
Actually . . .
“Wait, I have an idea. But I’m gonna need some help and a moment alone.”
Three, two, one . . .
“What?”
“Oh, my cheesus and crackers, what are you going to do?”
“Uh . . .”
I can’t hold the straight face any longer and laugh, my chosen words having their intended effect on the women.
“Not . . . that. Whatever you’re thinking. I want to do a full silhouette shot, but it means I need to get the lighting just right or it won’t be silhouette, it’ll be naked-naked. And I’m not doing that.”
Mission ready, Rix says, “Tell us what to do.”
We get the lighting just right in my bedroom, do a few test shots with the camera on a tripod, and once I’m happy with the setup, I nod.
“Get it, girl.”
I swallow and close the door behind them. Though they’re on the other side of the thin wood, they don’t desert me, still talking me through it.
“Think sexy thoughts,” Katelyn coaches.
I strip down, tossing my work clothes in the hamper, then climb into the middle of the bed where we tested the light. “Breathe. In, two, three, out, two, three,” I whisper.
I close my eyes, hit the remote button for the camera, and the timer light flashes. Right before it takes the shot, I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling so the camera captures my profile. I do it a few more times, praying each time that it’s working.
Worst case scenario, I can delete them. Best case, I’ll have some hot images to remember a fun, crazy night with my new friends.
This is definitely one of those experiences Mom is always telling me I need to have. But this one is just mine. Not the blog’s, not for my followers. But for me to pull out of my memory bank when I’m old and gray and smile at the wild child I was, if only for one second.
When I feel like I’ve got the shot, I pull fresh clothes on and open the door. Excited eyes meet mine. “That was terrifying,” I gush. “I’m so glad I did it.”
Suddenly, we’re all hugging, bonded through some strange thread of friendship forged under unusual circumstances.
“Finally,” Shayanne huffs. “I’m a hugger, but Bobby put the fear of Baarbara in me if I didn’t let you hug me first.”
“It’s okay, I’m a hugger too. Everybody needs hugs, and every day needs hugs.”
Shayanne smiles, and I can tell she likes Mom’s theory.
“Not to break this up, but . . . I gotta go,” Katelyn suddenly says, holding up her phone.
I can see the screen where she sent a close-up of her cleavage, just an extreme close-up of the line between her breasts. Out of context of this evening, you might not even know what it is. Beneath the picture is a reply that simply