Page 108 of Chasing Home
Going braless was Poppy’s idea, but considering the heavy sag I’m seeing right now, I’m one bad thought away from putting one on, straps showing or not.
“Your tits look great,” Poppy says. I look away from my reflection to find her peeking her head in the bedroom door. “Trust me, you don’t want to be adjusting your bra straps all day trying to hide them. You have bigger things to focus on.”
“Like meeting my boyfriend’s moms for the first time or having to do that while also pretending I love big social events like these?”
It’s been a week since Johnny and I got back from Toronto, and everything has been good. Really good. Fucking incredible enough that I haven’t had much time alone to think about what happened with Lee.
Eliza took one look at me my first morning back on the ranch and decided not to ask about the trip. I didn’t know how to tell her how much I appreciated that, so I said nothing, but she knew. Without hesitation, she began telling me about the upcoming barbeque Johnny’s moms invited them to, my trip to Toronto becoming nothing but a bad memory.
That’s how it’s been every day since. Work hours full of conversation with Eliza and lunches full of shameless flirting and kissing with Johnny. My nights are a mix of all of the above with him, if we manage to stay out of the bedroom long enough to talk. That hasn’t happened often.
The first time I got back on Frost after tearing my thighs up, we spent an hour exploring the ranch. Over the past few days, I think I’ve covered most of it. Johnny says I haven’t, but I think he just wants an excuse to continue riding with me.
He doesn’t need an excuse; I just haven’t told him that yet.
Poppy sways into the room and flops down on the edge of my bed. A quick glance down proves that she doesn’t seem to be experiencing the same sagging issue, even if her chest is undoubtedly bigger than mine. Somehow, she’s able to wear a sundress like mine without a bra and not look like she could toss her boobs over her shoulders and tie them in a knot.
“Boob tape,” she answers the question I didn’t ask. “I’ve got some in my purse if you want. I’m not trying to come on to you here, but I can help you tape yours up if you want.”
“I don’t think it would be a shame to have a woman like you come onto me anyway,” I mutter before looking back in the mirror. Cupping my boobs, I nod. “Get the tape.”
She hops up and out of the room, returning a beat later with Bryce in tow. Bryce doesn’t check out my chest the way Poppy did. Instead, she spreads herself out on the mattress with her eyes to the ceiling, in her own world.
Poppy ushers me into the bathroom, and I release a relieved sigh at the lack of other eyes on me for this. Bryce wouldn’t judge me, but me and Poppy . . . we’re more similar body-wise. There’s something comforting about looking at someone and seeing the same thick thighs and protruding belly that you live with every day.
She shuts the door with a flick of her wrist. “Okay, just pull down the top, and I’ll perk those titties right up.”
I huff a laugh and do as she says. It’s obvious that she’s done this a few hundred times as she snips the exact amount of tape needed and peels the backing off before methodically sticking it to my skin in every which way. I watch her work, trying to memorize the spots she tapes and which way she pulls my boob to lift it properly. By the time she claps and steps back, I look like I’ve gotten a goddamn boob job.
“You should sell classes on that,” I mutter while pulling my dress back up.
“If you knew how many sets of boobs I’ve touched while taping, you’d think I was the one in the group that was into women,” she teases before opening the door.
I glance at my reflection in the vanity mirror and feel a swell of appreciation build in my chest. Refusing to overthink it, I turn and pull Poppy into a hug.
“Thank you.”
She returns the embrace and squeezes me tight. “You’re welcome. Having best friends means you’ll always have someone to help lift your tits whenever you need. I’d have walked around behind you all day, lifting them with my hands if you needed me to. Any of us would have.”
Leaning back against the sink, I meet her gaze and jump over the last hurdle between us. “I have some things to tell you. Both of you.”
She nods slowly. “We’re here to listen. Come on, Bryce is probably snooping through your things.”
We leave the bathroom, and despite what Poppy expected, Bryce hasn’t gone through any of my drawers. Poppy perches on the edge of the bed and tugs on Bryce’s ankle to get her attention.
“Sit beside me,” she orders her.
Brow lifted, Bryce scoots down to sit beside her. “Yes, ma’am.”
The weight of their eyes on me makes my skin itch, but I ignore it. The kindness in the way they watch me is enough to settle me.
“Wanda is my sister,” I blurt, ripping off the Band-Aid. “We share a father, and I came here to find them both. To learn about them.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t see that coming,” Bryce says, the first to recover from the news.
Poppy frowns, tapping at her knee. “Wanda Wanda? Like Wanda Rose?”
“Lee Rose is your father?” Bryce asks.