“I usually get shrimp and grits or chicken and waffles. But Jasper swears by the chicken and dumplings.” I’m insanely curious about his relationship with his brother, but it’s not my business, so I won’t ask. He glances up, tilts his head, staring me up and down. “You eat, right?”
“What?” I bark out, taken aback.
“I’m not judging.” He shrugs. “I know a lot of women who don’t.”
I glance down at myself and then meet his eyes with a raised brow. “Do I look like I don’t eat?”
I’m definitely on the curvier side. I work out hard but I enjoy eating and this is just how my body is. I’ve never made apologies for that, nor do I feel like I should. I like the way I look. I like having breasts and an ass and a softer belly.
I’ve been called fat a lot by the media and hateful trolls over the years.
But the truth is, there is no winning the body image game in this industry. Either you’re too thin or too fat. Have too many curves or not enough. When I was a teenager, approval was everything to me. Approval by strangers, fans, record executives, you name it. So much of my happiness was dictated to me by their praise.
And when people start to make negative comments about everything and anything they can, it wears you down. It affects your self-esteem and sense of self-worth. Especially for a teenage girl who didn’t exactly have the most typical teenage life. It took a long time for me to love and accept who I am and how I look. It was certainly not an overnight process, despite what I claimed publicly.
He smirks, doing a long, languid sweep of my body, and when he finds my eyes again, there is a touch of heat in his. “I am not going to tell you what I think of your body because it will likely either get me smacked or that water tossed in my face. But since you brought it up, I think you’re probably one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I’ve never seen.”
My eyes burst wide, a stupid blush crawling up my face. “Gus, just because you can say everything that’s on your mind, doesn’t mean you should. They call it a filter for a reason.”
“You’re pretty when you blush.”
“Gus!”
He laughs, leaning forward and planting his forearms on the table. “Sorry, you’re just kind of fun to rile up. Keeping secrets is not exactly my thing anymore. I used to filter everything, and it wasn’t so great.”
I want to ask more about that, but I let it go.
“But if I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. It’s just that I’ve been out on dates with women who only order a side salad with no dressing and that shit makes me nuts.”
“I am definitely not a side salad for my dinner girl.”
“Thank god.”
“And this is not a date.”
That smirk grows into something devious and playful. Something loaded with temptation and sin. “Right. Not a date. I almost forgot there for a second.” I roll my eyes and his smirk grows. “So, tell me what happened in the booth that had your running?”
I shake my head because I’m not entirely sure. It was just this rush of emotion that overtook me. A panic that set in and all I knew was that I had to get out there. Away from the man sitting across from me who is pushing me to feel so much more than I’m comfortable with.
“I just don’t think I was expecting it,” I murmur, my voice coming out as a soft whisper.
“The chemistry, right?”
That’s certainly part of it. I nod, feeling myself blush all over again.
“I wasn’t expecting it either. Certainly not with someone I had just met who was reluctant at every turn to even be in there with me. But even now, I can’t get what happened in that booth between us out of my head.”
Jesus. This man. It’s getting to the point where I can hardly maintain eye contact and my stomach is sloshing about like a freaking washing machine. “Do the people in your life find you as aggravating as I am?”
“No,” he laughs. “They find me endlessly charming, unmistakably endearing, and insanely hot. Same as you do.” I shake my head, laughing lightly as I lean back in my seat, folding my arms over my chest. He mocks my pose, smiling widely at me. “This afternoon caught me by surprise just as much as it did you. And now that I’m sitting here across from you, I feel a bit out of my depth. I’m not sure what to do with all this.”
“Meaning what?”
He reaches out, taking a sip of his water and resting his elbows on the small table. Then he gives a bewildered half-shrug. “I wasn’t exactly sold on the whole duet thing the way Jasper was. All I knew was that I needed to get this song out and he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. But the second I met you, I felt something I wasn’t expecting. And I’m not being a creep by saying that. I’m really not. All flirting aside, when we sang together, it was like I couldn’t imagine singing like that with anyone else.”
The waiter comes by and I can’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Gus is intense. The type of intense you pulse with. It’s a delicious thrill and a terrifying jolt. Like jumping out of a plane without knowing if your shoot will open when you pull the cord.
We order our dinners, and the moment the waiter is out of earshot, Gus reaches into his pocket and pulls out a worn piece of paper. I eye it harshly, knowing precisely what he holds in his hand.
“Not so fast there, buster. We’re still talking.”
“Sure.” He sets it down on the table beside his Coke and leans back in his seat, intertwining his fingers and resting them on his flat stomach. “Can I ask what your hang-up is?”
“Do you really not know?”
He shrugs. “I have my assumptions, but I’d like you to tell me if you don’t mind.”
“The last duet I sang was with Florian. The last duet I wrote was with Florian. And you’re telling me this song is written for your ex who is now married to your brother. I have to imagine there is a lot of heartbreak and emotion with that.”
“And?”
I throw my hands up in the air. “And I’m in a good place, Gus. It wasn’t easy to get here, and it wasn’t overnight, so the idea of dredging up my ugly past and putting it on paper and singing it out loud doesn’t sound all that enticing.”
He nods, already knowing that was my answer, but wanting to hear it from me anyway. “I can work with that.”
I let out a bitter guffaw. “Oh yeah? Teach me your trick because I still haven’t figured it out.”
“Babe, you’re getting this all wrong. I’m not part of the problem. I’m part of the healing. This will work for both of us. You just have to trust me.”
I angle my head. “I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”
“You’re right. You don’t. But you will because you want to do this song with me. You wouldn’t be sitting here across from me otherwise. Especially since you already gave me the whole, ‘this isn’t a date and I don’t date musicians,’ speech. So that tells me this dinner is all about the song. Or was that all bullshit and you actually just want to jump my bones?”
I laugh before I can stop it, biting into my lip and shaking my head. There is no winning with him. “I don’t know why I said yes to dinner. None of this is a good idea.”