Girltalk
Francine came back downstairs with the basket of ripe laundry and a sly little grin. A tiny spark of Amanda's ancient insecurity surfaced, hoping that grin had nothing to do with Lee. Logically, she figured Francine wouldn't look like a schoolgirl dying to dish the latest gossip if it did. She couldn't ever recall seeing this side of her friend before. For just a second, it reminded her very much of...her mother?
Oh my gosh! How am I ever going to explain this to my mother? She didn't know whether to be amused or mortified. Okay, I'll take the bait. She gave her an openig, hoping the reply would erase the sudden, alarming similarity.
"See something upstairs you like?"
Francine flashed her a wicked smile as she set the pungent laundry on top of the washing machine. "Dr. Wells seems to be as immodest about his body as he's rumored to be about his brain."
Yes, she could definitely hear echos of her mother. No wonder she'd liked Francine so much the few times they'd met.
It felt decidedly strange to Francine to even hint at this kind of conversation with Amanda. Feeling like a giddy schoolgirl was disconcerting enough, and definitely a side she'd learned very early in life to not share with other girls. It had never ended well. Fortunately Amanda just smiled, shook her head, and didn't press for details.
Details like the handfull of scars on a well-muscled back, over toned calves and thighs, and those deliciously tight buns. And that playful, devilishly inviting smile and raised eyebrow as he half-turned to drop his clothing into the waiting basket. If he could've turned just a bit more...
Damn, girl! Francine pushed the glorious vision out of her mind...for now, anyway. Sounds like you might need a cold shower yourself!