Page 38 of In His Skates

He takes the hanger from me. “What about underwear? Unless you want me to go commando. I’m fine with that.” He smirks.

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.” I walk around him and grab the underwear off the bed. “You can wear these.” I shove the white cotton panties and matching bra at him without making eye contact. My face feels hot, which means I must be blushing.

“Jesus, Leigh. Not with the granny panties again.”

“Those are not granny panties! They’re comfy, but if you’d rather wear one of my thongs…”

He wrinkles his nose. “Hard pass. They’re nice to look at, but they’re probably uncomfortable as hell.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Uh… can I have some privacy, please?”

“Sure.” I could argue that it’s my body and nothing I haven’t seen before, but since Keanu’s body seems to have a mind of its own, I leave.

KEANU

The temptation to look inside Leigh’s underwear drawer is immense, but I refrain. She’d probably sense I’m snooping from outside the room. She always seemed to catch me red-handed when we were kids. Instead, I put on the underwear she gave me, avoiding looking at her body in the mirror. Naturally, I’ve already looked—I’m not a saint. Leigh is a smoke show, but I don’t need to get all hot and bothered right before she’s supposed to get me ready for the interview. Her breasts in particular are a thing of beauty, although they feel weird as hell, especially outside of a bra. The bouncing motion is unsettling.

The dress she picked is surprisingly comfortable. I run a hand down the front, appreciating the view. I get why Leigh is so popular. Her looks can land her a myriad of roles—from the sweet girl next door to a badass action movie heroine.

A knock on the door rouses me from my reverie.

“Are you dressed?” she calls.

“Yeah, you can come in.”

She gives me an appraising look, then asks, “Have you tried the shoes yet?”

I follow her line of sight and spot the high-heeled shoes she wants me to wear. “Are you out of your mind? I can’t walk in those!”

“Why not? Have you even tried?”

“No—look at the height on those heels. I’ll probably fall and break your neck. Then you’ll be stuck in me forever!”

She looks at me as if I’ve gone insane. “You’re a hockey player. Surely you won’t fall.”

I keep staring at the shoes as if they’ll do me great harm. “Women’s shoes and skates are not the same thing.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Come on. We need to blow-dry my hair.” She walks to the vanity table in her room and points at the chair. “Please, take a seat.”

I frown. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Her spine goes taut. “I’m not acting weird.”

Yeah, she might say that, but I know she’s acting suspicious. I’m tense when I sit down, but when she reaches around me to grab a brush, I almost jump in my seat.

“Will you relax?”

“I’m trying, but you’re acting hella sus.”

“Hella sus?” She arches a brow. “Why do you still talk as if you’re in middle school?”

For the first time around Leigh, I can’t think of a retort. I never had a problem clapping back at her before. This body-swap situation is messing with my head in more ways than one. We have to fix it, or hell… this will be the end of our dreams.

Leigh touches my shoulder and leans forward, bringing her face next to mine. Our gazes connect in the mirror’s reflection. “Hey, are you okay?”

I’m taken aback by the sweet tone in my own voice. For as long as I can remember, our interactions have been wrapped in barbed wire. This side of Leigh—the soft and caring side—is not something I’ve experienced before, and it’s giving me new emotions that are waging war against the old feelings.