Short, skinny tomboy Kim hasn’t had a boyfriend for a while. In fact, not since she fell in love with her best friend. The trouble is, her best friend is Serena, a beautiful, big Italian goddess who’s engaged to be married.
Or was, at least. Until yesterday, when her fiancé finally confessed to myriad infidelities, laying the blame squarely on the size of Serena’s curvaceous ass.
As emotional therapy, the girls head away for a long weekend at a remote beach house. Just the two of them. No guys, no work, no distractions.
Can Kim work past her own fear and body issues to remind Serena just how damn sexy she really is?
I jumped into the shower to wash the salt from my body. As I dipped my head under the jet, the roar of the running water filled my head, to the point that I didn’t realize Serena had come into the bathroom until she spoke.
“Fuck, you scared me!” I pushed open the shower door just a crack and my breath caught in my chest. She was naked. My beautiful, curvy best friend stood before me, completely naked. With her bottom turned toward me, she studied her hips and thighs in the mirror, slapping at her skin and making hypnotic waves. The trembling in my hands—in my entire body—made it almost impossible to shut off the water.
“Say what you like about him, Wade was right about one thing. I’m getting huge. I look like gnocchi.”
I squeezed my lips together, but the words forced themselves out.
“I love gnocchi.”
She smiled and looked at me in the mirror. Her eyes moved like blown feathers as she scanned every bare inch of me. It was all I could do to stand still under the intensity of her gaze, when all I wanted was to run and hide. Or dive head first into her welcoming arms and kiss her until Monday.
She hooked her hair behind her ears and filled me with a smile. “God, I’d love to have a body like yours.”
“What, this old thing? Got it cheap from a ten-year-old boy. He grew out of it.”
The magic of laughter rippled superbly through her body. “I mean it! You can wear anything.”
“Yeah...dolls’ clothes, those little puppy sweaters...”
She frowned and faced me. The real me, not the scared little girl in the mirror. “You’re being silly again. Stop it.”
“Anything you say, your majesty.”
“You don’t see it, do you? How beautiful you are.”
“Yes, you. Is it really so hard to admit to yourself?”
Of course it was, when I compared myself to her. Deflection was my only hope. “Look who’s talking, Miss Gnocchi.”