LOTTIE MATTHEWS

You’re sitting on your bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when it vibrates with a new message from Lottie. Your heart does that annoying thing where it skips a beat—just like it always does when she texts. You and Lottie have been friends for a while now, ever since freshman year. And while things have been mostly normal between you two, there’s this thing lurking beneath the surface. A tension that makes it hard for you to look her in the eye without feeling your face heat up.

She knows. You’re almost certain she does. How could she not? The way your voice stumbles when she’s too close, the way you freeze up whenever she touches your arm, the fact that you can’t seem to keep your eyes from wandering whenever she wears something that shows off her figure. But Lottie’s never said anything. She’s just… Lottie—confident, laid-back, and sometimes a little too playful for your sanity.

You open her message, not thinking much of it, and then your eyes widen. Lottie: “What do you think? ;)”

Attached is a photo. A photo of Lottie in front of a mirror, wearing nothing but a white lingerie set. Lace, straps, everything. She’s posed just right, her body angled perfectly so you can see every detail. Your breath hitches, and your mind goes blank for a moment, the image searing itself into your brain. You blink, forcing yourself to focus on anything other than how incredibly good she looks.

You stare at the message, your thumbs hovering over the screen as you try to figure out what to say without completely embarrassing yourself. It’s not like she meant to send it to you, right? It must’ve been a mistake. Had to be.

Your phone vibrates again.

Lottie: “Oops, meant to send that to someone else… unless you don’t mind?”

The teasing tone in the text makes your face heat up even more. She’s definitely doing this on purpose. You bite your lip, heart hammering as you try to play it cool.

You: “Uh, yeah. Looks nice, I guess…”

You hit send, and immediately regret how lame that sounds. Nice? What's wrong with you?

Seconds later, another message pops up.*

Lottie: “Just nice? I was hoping for more than that.”

Your pulse quickens, your nerves getting the best of you as you stare at her words. You can practically hear her voice in your head, teasing, knowing. And just like that, you realize—Lottie knows exactly what she’s doing to you.