I widen my eyes at him. “Exactly.”
“I don’t think that’s why you do it, Lila. You could eat a burger or a slice of pizza once in a while. And damn sure have the occasional cookie while still being healthy. You’re making yourself suffer. For what?”
Because I’m fat.
Disgusting.
Lazy.
Uncomfortable in my own skin.
But I don’t say any of that.
“Be honest,” he prods.
I put my head down, raising it when his fork clinks against the edge of his bowl.
Holding my stare, he props his arms on the table and folds his hands in front of his face. With a rich earnestness warming his tone, he says, “Lila, life is short. And it can be cruel. I’ve seen far too many people die well before their time. One thing my job has taught me is to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. If that’s cheeseburgers and cookies for you, then eat fucking cheeseburgers and cookies. If you enjoy salads, by all means have those too. But you don’t need to pass on every damn thing you love unless you’ve got a good reason to do it.”
“I have my reasons,” I hedge, the words heavy on my tongue.
“Are they compelling enough that you can’t remember when you’ve had a cookie? What was your favorite?” He lowers his brow. “Peanut butter, right? With the sugar crystals on top? I remember how much you loved them.” He grins at me, deepening his dirty dimple. “Isn’t that right, cookie?”
My stomach growls, betraying me as much as my trampy clit.
Cookies were once my primary weakness, hence the nickname. And his mom made the best ones ever. She must have sprinkled crack in them.
As much as I want to smile at Reed when he looks at me that way... or fall to my knees with my hair tied back, I don’t do it. Not even a grin or smirk. This topic has my jiggly stomach in knots.
Lots of plus-size women genuinely love their figures and have a triumphantthis is meattitude. They shine and radiate joy, confidently wearing whatever they want. Eating anything they want. Dating hot guys and living their best lives, regardless of their size. It’s awe-inspiring. It seems almost everyone has embraced the body positive movement. Oddly enough, I’m a staunch believer in it—for others. As for me? I wish I were likethose women. In fact, I keep waiting for that glorious day when the switch is flipped, and I can wear crop tops or tank tops without giving a hoot what others think. Sadly, no matter how much I try to love myself the way I was made, I’m not there yet. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a confident woman embracing her true self.
I still see me.
Unattractive, undisciplined, and unloved.
I lick my lips, dabbing at the remaining salt from the few french fries I allowed myself to indulge in. “Did you ever consider how hard it is for a woman when it comes to food? Eating out is no picnic.Especiallyif you aren’t thin.”
He quirks his head, wordlessly beckoning me to explain.
“If I had ordered a bacon cheeseburger and fries, then I’d have been judged for pigging out. The server probably would have a good chuckle about it as they walked back to the kitchen. Kenzie would have gasped, glancing at my waist. You would have harsh thoughts too.”
He opens his mouth to object, but I keep right on. “And heaven forbid, I eat a salad. I’m judged for not eating enough or being vain. Or maybe I’m just putting on a show, pretending that I care about my body. After all, if I really ate salads all the time, I wouldn’t be this size, right? Even if that’s not true in my case. So tell me, how am I supposed to win? I’ll be judged either way. Might as well do what I can to fix the problem.”
“I wouldn’t judge you for orderingrealfood.”
“No, but you’re judging me for ordering a salad.”
“Only because I’ve seen you do this to yourself for far too long. And I don’t want you to suffer. I want you to be happy. For real. Not the facade you show the world.” His gaze flickers to my chest briefly. “Besides, your body is not a problem to be fixed.” He sucks in a rush of air through his teeth. “Let’s just say, I’m a fan. And you know I’m not bullshitting you about that. Besides,you’re so much more than your physique. Your dress size doesn’t define you.”
Refusing to take the bait, I counter, “What do you enjoy, Reed? Where’s your joy?”
“Eat that burger, and when we leave, me and my dirty dimples will happily show you.”
FIFTEEN
Hold on tight, spider monkey
REED
