“Of course I did. I do. It’s you.”
“Sure, but—you’re not just saying that, right? It’s okay if it’s not, Ez. I’ll stop.”
Ezra ponders what I’ve said for a little while longer.
“I’ll tell you if it ever becomes too much,” he whispers.
“Okay,” I say, taking whatever solace I can from his words.
“And what about you? What about me, uh, touching your stomach?”
“I don’t think about it that often. Yeah, I don’t have a six-pack anymore, so I guess sometimes it feels bad . . . like I didn’t care enough to maintain it—that I was too lazy.”
Ezra looks a bit sad, but most of what flashes across his face is guilt.
“I’ll stop,” he says.
“You like that I’m chubby?”
“Yes, Co, I like that you’re chubby. Iloveit. I think it’s cute, sexy—”
His affirmations feel good. Genuinely good.
“And?” I joke.
“Do you have any of those fancy words you know that are synonymous with sexy?”
“Provocative? Voluptuous? Titillating?” I say seductively.
He gasps, “Don’t you ever fucking say that word again. I hate it!”
“What? Titillating?”
“Ew!” he screeches. “Gross! Get off me!”
He shoves me off with faux disgust and bursts away to our bedroom, his bare ass disappearing behind the door. I chase after him and try for the handle, but it won’t budge. Ezra’s locked it, leaving me ass-naked in our living room. I pound on the door, bursting out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
“Let me in! I’m naked!”
“Your clothes are next to the couch, you fiend!” he yells.
Good point.
I pound on the door again.
“Let me in!”
“As long as you promise me that you’ll never say that word again!”
In my mind, my fingers are crossed.
“I promise!”
“Fine.”
He cracks the door open to reveal his strikingly gorgeous self, all loose hair and piercing eyes.
“Can you and I lie down again for a bit?”
