Insta Wife by Annie Amos

Author:Annie Amos [Amos, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-18T23:00:00+00:00

6

CASSIDY

* * *

I’m so shocked by this turn of events that I can barely speak as we walk home.

Suddenly, I’m seeing all these new sides to Skylar. I was so quick to judge her yesterday, to think that she wouldn’t be fun, or that she was too old for me, or even stuck-up. Actually, she’s none of those things. She’s just different to me — that’s all. And sometimes, when someone’s different to you, it takes a little longer to get to know them.

By the time we get back to the house, my palms are sweaty and I’m a bag of nerves.

I don’t know why I feel so anxious about this. I mean, I’ve slept with plenty of women in my life. It’s just… Skylar is a real woman. You know? Suddenly, I feel like I want to be so much more around her. More mature, more successful, more interesting.

‘I’m going to take a shower,’ says Skylar, when we step inside the house. For a horrible moment, I feel the skin on the back of my neck prickle, as I wonder if Penny has found her way back into the house again… but she’s nowhere to be seen.

Seeing her this morning was so weird, so creepy, but I don’t feel like I can talk to Skylar about it. I don’t want to freak her out, and I definitely don’t want her to know that I’m the kind of person who has exes like that. And really, I’m not. Not any more, at least.

‘Do you, um, want to come with me?’ Skylar asks.

‘Come with you?’ I ask.

Skylar smiles. ‘Not saying you smell or anything.’

I laugh. ‘I’d love to come.’

That wasn’t meant to sound suggestive, but it does, and I’m not sorry.

Skylar walks up the stairs in front of me and I check out her ass. Even in her chef’s pants, she looks hot. It almost doesn’t feel real that this woman has been living in the same city as me, hot and single, all this time, and I never knew about her. And yet now, somehow, I’m married to her.

She leads me into her en-suite and turns on the shower.

Then she turns to face me, and unbuttons her chef’s whites. ‘I can’t wait to get the smell of the kitchen off me,’ she says.

‘It’s a good thing your kitchen smells so good,’ I say, taking a step closer to her.

I help her undo the last button of her shirt, revealing a black tank top.

‘So that’s what chefs wear underneath their aprons,’ I say cheekily. ‘And what about under your pants? No. Don’t tell me. A thong.’

Skylar laughs. ‘No. Not a thong.’ She pulls down her black and white chef pants and I see a pair of grey granny-pants.

‘Nice,’ I say. ‘Functional.’

Skylar sticks out her tongue at me. ‘What about you, then? What do you keep under your t-shirt and ripped jeans? Crotchless knickers and a peephole bra, perhaps?’

‘Ha ha,’ I say, stepping out of my jeans to show her my boxers. They’re plain white, as is the sports bra I reveal to her next underneath my t-shirt.

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