by Penny Blake
I can’t argue with the last part, so I grab my purse and give myself one last glimpse in the mirror before we walk out into the night.
Crossroads is a cozy bar with Christmas lights strung around the windows, a long array of scarred wooden booths, and a good selection of three dollar beers. It’s also the only decent bar in town, so it’s always lively.
We’re about to claim an open section of the bar when we spot Drew at the far end. He’s so attractive it’s almost painful to look at him. He must have shaved, because his scruff is gone, revealing perfect bone structure and highlighting his strong square jaw. He’s wearing a simple navy blue t-shirt that moulds perfectly to his broad shoulders. He isn’t nearly as buff as Rio, but there’s something elegant about his long, lean good looks. Even in a t-shirt, he could rival any GQ model.
He also looks extremely confused as we approach him. “What the hell is that?” he asks, reaching a finger toward my sister’s mouth.
She flinches. “Don’t touch the cold sore, son. It’s my masterpiece.”
“It’s a piece of something. And what’s this?” He pokes her hunchback, looking even more confused.
“Ember didn’t want me cock blocking her tonight,” April explains, “so we made me look undatable. Did it work?”
“Yeah, herpes of the mouth tends to have that effect,” he says. “You’re extra weird when you hang out with your sister, you know that?”
“Thanks,” April says absently as she scans the bar. “Now let’s find a hottie to hit this.” She jabs a thumb at me. “Drew, will you order us some shots?”
April and I are scanning the bar for romantic prospects when the front door opens and Brian walks in with his new girlfriend. I duck behind Drew before he sees me and tug on April’s sleeve.
“He’s here,” I say. “Brian—and his new girlfriend.”
“That asshole! I’ll kill him.”
“No.” I yank her down so my ex doesn’t spot her, which could betray my own position. “I’m in no state for a run in right now. I just want to slip out and not deal with any of this tonight.”
“The hell you won’t,” she says. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. Happiness is the best revenge. So you’re going to saunter right past him with your hot new boyfriend, Drew, and show him how ridiculously happy you are.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Oh you can,” says April. “He’s the one who acted like a complete ball sack—if anyone should be slinking out of here in shame, it’s him. You’re the one who deserves to hold your head high. You’re the one who deserves to win the break up, and to do that, you need to show him you’re happier without him than you ever were when you two were together.”
Drew turns from the bar and presents us with two shot glasses. April grabs them and holds one out to me. “Here. Liquid courage.”
We both drink out shots, and then my sister explains the situation to Drew. Maybe it’s all the alcohol I drank tonight, because as I listen to her, it seems like a perfectly reasonable plan. When Drew agrees to help, she scuttles off to the back of the bar to avoid being seen so Brian doesn’t figure anything out.
“You ready to do this thing?” Drew asks. I nod, and together we make our way to the other side of the bar where Brian and his new girlfriend are ordering their drinks.
Chapter 11
Truly, Deeply, Madly
Brian is wearing the Misfits T-shirt I gave him for his birthday two years ago, and his new girlfriend is wearing makeup tonight, which makes her look more attractive than the last time I saw her. Then she smiles and I see that her prominent teeth are in serious need of a good whitening, which pleases me.
Before I can figure out how to snag their attention, Drew bumps shoulders with Brian, and when he apologizes, Brian’s eyes meet mine. “Ember, hey…how are you doing?” he stammers.
How am I doing?! You dumped me on our wedding day just three months ago and here you are with the chick you dumped me for. How do you think I’m doing?
I feel Drew take my hand in his and squeeze it, which I interpret as a warning not to do or say anything crazy. A wise idea. Too bad I’m in no mood to listen.
I smile tightly. “I’m doing just fine, Brian. I’m actually very happy that we didn’t get married, because if we did, I never would have met my new boyfriend, Drew. Drew is a male model and we’re extremely happy together.” I turn to Brian’s new girlfriend. “And you must be the woman Brian was Skyping before our wedding. How very interesting to meet you.” I don’t hold out a hand. I just stare her down with pure unadulterated hatred. “You know, I never expected to meet you, but now that you’re here, there’s something I’ve been dying to ask. You must have known that Brian was engaged while you were having all those Skype sessions with him, right?”
She nods weakly.
“Did you know he was going to call it off on the day of our wedding…for you? Or what it completely unexpected? Was it some kind of grand romantic gesture on his part?”
“Ember,” Brian sighs, but I continue to stare down his Skype-whore.
She doesn’t answer. She merely bows her head and looks at her lap. I almost feel bad for her, but any sympathy I might have felt burns away the instant Brian wraps his arm around her waist in a show of support.
“She didn’t know I was going to call it off, Ember,” he says softly. “It was all very unexpected, and very hard. For all of us.”
Before I can respond, Drew cuts in. “Well it’s lucky for me that it didn’t work out between you two. I guess I have you to thank you for helping me meet the love of my life. Just tomorrow we’re going on a vacation—to Paris—to attend a celebrity gala.”
I look at him in question, and he gives me the faintest shrug.
I try to tamp down the hot mess of pain swirling through me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to make you happy,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m enough for Drew though, so I guess it’s a good thing you and I didn’t get married. I deserve someone who will be truly, deeply, madly love with me. And I guess…you deserve to feel that way about the person you’re with…even if it’s not me.”
My eyes fill up with tears and I look up at Drew as if to say, come on, let’s go. But he looks confused and instead, leans down and kisses me.
It’s a soft kiss, a gentle brush of lips.
My eyes are open at first, but then my eyelids flutter shut as his lips press harder against mine.
He raises a hand to my face, cupping my cheek, and the next thing I know, all the chaos in my head disappears and all I can do is feel. Feel his warm whisky-scented breath mingling with mine. Feel the electricity jolting through me at every point where our skin meets. And the way his nearness makes me feel more blissfully alive than ever, like I’m filled with longing, hunger and infinite possibility all rolled into one.
And then just like that, he breaks it off and we both stare at each other wide eyed with shock. I put a hand over my mouth, dazed.
Drew is the first to look away, gesturing to the back of the bar. He starts moving in that direction, and I follow him.
We find my sister in the back corner of the bar where some guy is chatting her up. Even with a hunchback and herpes of the mouth, the girl’s got game. She turns to us with a big smile. “So what happened? Did you win the breakup?” she asks.
“Drew kissed me,” I blurt out.
“I kissed her,” he says from behind me.
She claps a hand over her mouth, and when she takes it off, she yells, “That’s brilliant! Way to dominate!” She hugs us both in celebration, and we stiffly accept her affection.
Drew gives her a rundown of the whole encounter while I allow my heart rate to go back to normal, and before long, we all leave together and head home.
Drew and April walk behind me, hand in hand, and I walk ahead, absently listening to their conversation and enjoying the warm summer night and the pleasant buzz from the alcohol.
Even after everything, a kind of acceptance washes over
me. I finally feel at peace, or something resembling peace, with everything that happened with Brian.
A firefly blinks ahead of me as a car rumbles past, and I feel a certain rightness in the moment. My life may be far from perfect and confusing as hell, but at the same time, maybe everything is exactly the way it should be.
Chapter 12
Pretty
I postpone my final semester at community college to figure out what I really want to do career-wise. Now that my life plan with Brian has fallen to pieces, I’m not sure about anything anymore, except that I should probably figure it out before taking out any more student loans for classes that might not even be useful to me. In the meantime, I get a temp job doing data entry at home and commit to losing weight.
After our moment of extreme weirdness at Crossroads, things with Drew and I go right back to normal. He’s training for a half marathon, so April pushed us to start running together in the mornings, which explains the first part of my exercise montage.
Cue the Rocky theme song. The one with the trumpet that goes:
Dun da-da dun da-da dun da-da dun
Dun dun da-da dun da-da dun da-da dun
Dun dun dun dun dun
Da-da dun
Da-da dun
Now cut to Drew and I red faced and sweating as we run through the park. Okay, so I’m red faced and sweating and he looks as gorgeous as ever. But you have to appreciate my dedication, especially when my nostrils twitch and I look to the side where along the trail, a mustached man in a pink t-shirt stands beside an ice cream cart. He holds an ice cream cone out to me and nods with a broad smile, but I shake my head and press on.
Next cut to me at the gym doing a set of bicep curls while Rio stands behind me, clapping his hands and pushing me on. Then to Rio counting animatedly while I finish a set crunches, then ball up in pain and clutch my stomach. Then to me gulping down water while Rio bends over to pick up his clipboard, leading me to rub the cold bottle on my neck while staring at his butt and nodding in approval.
Now cut to me at the grocery store filling my basket with baby carrots, salad mix, blueberries, yogurt and salmon. But the record scratches when I come to a stop in front of an Entenmann’s display.
I begin to reach for a package of eclairs and everything goes into slow motion. I shout “Nooooo,” and just before I make contact with the eclairs, I swing my hand away at the last possible second. Then I shake my head and blink my eyes, slowly coming to my senses, and rush to the dairy section to load my basket with yogurt.
And that’s how the next few months pass.
As I settle into my new lifestyle, I realize how much Brian enabled my old bad habits. Brian was blessed with an insatiable appetite and a ridiculously high metabolism, and since I spent most of my time with him, I seemed to believe I could eat the same way.
When he ordered an extra large, extra cheese pizza, I helped him finish it. When he sat in his family’s rec room watching TV after school and absently inhaling chips, hot pockets, raw cookie dough, and anything else in the fridge, I inhaled right along with him. And when his mom pressed us to take a second helping of dinner, followed by a massive homemade dessert, I never refused.
But now that he’s out of the picture and my sister doesn’t keep unhealthy stuff in the house, I find myself eating much better. Which isn’t to say that I don’t cheat on occasion, but most of the time, eating healthy is much easier now that I’ve gotten into the habit.
A few months into my diet, I'm leaving the apartment on my way to the gym when I pass a mirror and catch a glimpse of myself. A minute later, I stop in my tracks and slowly go back for a double take.
I’m still far from perfect, but everything about me is smaller and tighter now. My legs have a better shape to them. My stomach doesn’t bulge out nearly as much. My butt is still round, yet it’s higher and tighter. But the most striking change is to my face. My neck and chin looked more defined, my cheekbones stand out now, my skin looks brighter and healthier, and my eyes and smile more prominent. And that’s when it hits me.
I’d started my health plan for the simple reason of not wanting to be fat anymore. But while my fat has been melting away, something else has been happening. I’ve been getting pretty. Me. Pretty. Two completely separate concepts that I’ve never imagined could co-exist, and yet now here they are blending together, and it blows my mind.
With my dark hair and pale skin, symmetrical features and newly emerging bone structure, I have an Alyssa Milano thing going on. And with less landscape behind them, my big boobs and round butt look amazing.
That day at the gym, I’m fully aware of how good I look in my spandex gym clothes. When I do my squats, I jut my butt and boobs out a little bit more so Rio can appreciate my improving shape.
Rio, the consummate professional, doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, the entire time he’s been training me, he’s never once broached any personal topics or flirted with me in the slightest. All of our conversations have been strictly workout related. If I ask him what he did that weekend, he tells me how many reps he did or how many miles he ran. If I ask about his past, he gives me one word answers and turns the topic back to exercise. I know that he’s a boxer who fights competitively, but that’s was the extent of what I know about his personal life.
But all that’s about to change, I decide.
My weight has always been the one thing I hate about myself. The excuse I use not to try anything new, not to take any chances, not to dream big. But now that my fat is melting away, I feel like all the self imposed limits can go too, if I let them.
In my heart, no matter how I look, I’m always going to be me, clumsy, embarrassing, and accident prone. But now that I’m becoming a hotter, more confident version of myself, it’s a game changer. And the game I’m about to play involves flirting with my insanely hot and completely disinterested trainer. In fact, it’s his very disinterest that makes me want him even more.
Rio is a challenge, and I’m hungry for a challenge.
I’m hungry for Rio.
Chapter 13
The Amateur
After a little research, I learn that Rio will be fighting in a boxing match at a nearby boxing club, and I decide to show up. I don’t tell him because I want the element of surprise on my side, but other than that, I don’t have much of a plan other than to look cute.
I dress casually in jeans and a low cut top to avoid looking like I’m trying too hard, though I spend two hours on my hair and makeup so I look a million times better than I do at the gym.
The first thing I discover when I enter the boxing club is that Rio has a nickname, Rio “Justice” Ward. The next is that according to his stats, he’s virtually undefeated. And then I learn, with great disappointment, that I won’t get to see him with his shirt off. Since he’s an amateur and not a pro, he fights in a sleeveless t-shirt and wears a padded head guard.
When the match starts, his style starts out relaxed and but quickly turns viscous. His opponent is a bald, heavily tattooed guy called “The Animal” who hops around and throws a lot of offensive punches, while Rio dodges a lot and seems to hang back at first. Then when he gets an opening, he strikes hard, fast and in quick succession, drilling the guy with punch after viscous punch.
His powerful stance and the sheer force behind his movements fill me with awe, and then when he’s declared the winner, I’m proud that my trainer is so bad ass.
It’s not a long fight, and I’m surprised at how small the crowd is. I’m guessing it’s mostly boxing guys from the gym. Rio knows I’m here—when he was in his corner between rounds, I saw his eyes cut directly to me and then linger.
I hang around outside the locker room while the crowd gets smaller and smaller, and soon he comes out in his street clothes. A few guys pat him on the back and comment about the fight, and even though he’s talking to them, his eyes are on me the whole time. He smiles as he walks forward, then dips his head down and rubs the back of his neck. There’s something shy about t
he gesture, and on this beautiful hulking beast of a man, it’s almost more than I can take. I feel myself smiling back at him so hard my cheeks hurt.
I spout out the first thing that comes to mind. “Where are all your groupies?”
“It’s just you tonight,” he says. Then before I can respond, he says, “What are you doing here?”
I shrug. “I wanted to see you fight. I’m thinking about incorporating some boxing into my workout routine and I want to see if you have what it takes to train me, Justice.”
He rubs that back of his neck again and when his eyes come back up, they settle on my cleavage for a fraction of a second before meeting my gaze, but it’s enough. After wearing tight, low cut tops to our workout sessions for weeks, he’s never once checked me out, so this feels like a major victory.
“What does the name Justice mean, anyway?”
“It’s in honor of someone who meant a lot to me.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, I ask, “Who? Were they a judge or something?”
“No,” he says before silence stretches out between us again. And then before I can break it, he starts making his way through the gym while I hurry to catch up.
We exit through side door, which leads us into a dark parking lot. My car is just around the corner, but I’m not ready to part ways just yet.
“Man, you really make a girl work for it,” I say as I stop and lean against a car.
He stops too and stands in front of me. “Work for what?”
“Any information about you—you never talk about anything personal. It’s like you’re some robot who just works out all day and has no life outside of the gym. Don’t you have any outside interests besides fitness? Watching TV, going to sporting events, even playing dominoes?”
He shrugs. “I try to keep things impersonal with my clients. I do this for a living and I have a lot of female clients, many of whom are happily single or unhappily married. Either way, I try to keep things professional at all times to prevent any…”
