“Overseeing our secondary programs. Field trips, school visits. The teen docent program for sure.”
Goose bumps tingled up Emmett’s arms. “Wow, that’s…”Perfect. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, lest the universe detect his hope and conspire to snatch it away.
“I didn’t want to mention it at first, just in case…” Aaron’s meaning was clear: just in case Emmett had no chance. “But given your experience with Future Makers, it sounds like you could be a really good fit.”
“You think?”
“You’d still have to go through the interview process, and it’ll be competitive. It won’t be just my decision.”
“Of course.” Emmett forced down a bite of salad, struggling to keep his eyes off the half-eaten burger lying abandoned on Aaron’s plate. “Can I ask—?”
“Fifty-four K. I know it’s not much—”
“More than I make now.” Emmett instantly regretted saying it, but Aaron looked pleased.
“Great. I’ll let you know when the posting goes up. Probably won’t be for a month or so. How cool would it be if we actually got to work together?”
Emmett had been so focused on the role itself he hadn’t consideredthe benefit of working with Aaron. Already he could feel something shift within him, enveloping his heart in a more excruciating longing.
Stop that.
As genuinely happy as Aaron seemed to be to reconnect, Emmett knew in his gut that there was nothing more there. Whatever attraction he might have felt years ago had vanished with Emmett’s slimmer physique.
The clinical trial wasn’t working. Emmett wasn’t going to be thin. It was time to let go of the fantasy and take what he could get.
CHAPTER 17
Emmett’s gut was a gnawing, scratching hole of want. Hunger—the little-hvariety—hit him the moment he opened his eyes, a sharp-toothed ache of satisfying torment.
Feel the burn.
Usually he awoke bloated from the previous night’s overindulgence—and hehadoverindulged, capping off his dinner with Aaron with a drive-thru burrito and half a tray of Lizette’s homemade magic bars. He’d passed out feeling like he’d swallowed a bowling ball.
Now he was ravenous, his stomach shrunken and empty. And because his stomach felt small, he felt small, lighter in every sense of the word.
He went into the bathroom and sat. A hearty shit was usually good for a pound or two. Then he stripped down to his underwear and stepped onto the bathroom scale, giving it a second before he peeked at the number.
He pawed at his eyes. There was no way.
Three hundred sixteen pounds.
He’d lost six pounds.
Overnight.
He stepped off the scale, let it clear, and stepped back on.
Same result.
The third time he tried, he’d lost another pound.
“What the fuck?”
“Everything okay in there?” Lizette called through the door.
“Fine!”
He couldn’t tell her, not until he was sure it was real. He put the scale away and squared up to the mirror.
