Chapter 12
You prefer a few extra inches—where it matters
My feet were killing me. I only had two hours left on my shift at Lola’s. I’d been rushing all day between classes, training, and schoolwork, which I had finished earlier in the staff break room.
I had one reading left, due tomorrow, and had already decided I would wake up a little earlier in the morning to tackle it.
College life meant I was super busy, but I liked it that way.
With my full-ride scholarship, I could have decreased my hours at Lola’s, but I loved working, and I would miss it if I had too much free time on my schedule.
Anyway, the money was also a great incentive.
I relished my independence too much to forfeit my job, even when it felt like I was overdoing it.
I carried a tray full of chicken wing baskets to a table occupied by some of Mason’s teammates.
So far, no sign of him or Craig tonight, which made me feel more relaxed.
Until I noticed Nichols had arrived and cringed mentally.
We barely ever bumped into each other here or on campus, but every time we did, I could feel my skin crawling.
Not wanting to let my emotions show, I pasted on a smile.
No way would I give him any chance to see his presence affected me—in all the wrong ways.
Once I set the food on the table, I gathered the empty baskets and plates and stacked them onto my tray. Next, I refilled their glasses, added another pile of napkins in the middle of the table, and placed a cup of ranch dressing and packs of wet napkins before each of them.
Since Mason warned Nichols the night we reconnected, none of his teammates had given me a hard time.
I knew he probably had said something to them afterward, even though I’d told him I could hold my own.
I appreciated the fact that they’d been keeping their hands and their filthy comments to themselves lately.
It was one less thing to worry about. “Would anyone like anything else?”
Busy digging into their food, most shook their heads no.
I turned my attention to Nichols, my tone clipped. “What can I get you?”
“Long time no see, ma jolie. After you sit on my dick, I’ll take a basket of Inferno wings with a side of coleslaw and a Tuxedo burger with extra mayo and a large pickle.
” He winked, in that creepy way of his. “Think we can borrow a room back there? I really need to empty these suckers”—he pointed toward the restrooms before gesturing to his crotch—“and I think you’re the right woman for the job. ”
I snorted, unable to keep my face straight.
I should have silenced my thoughts earlier about Mason’s teammates keeping their filthy comments to themselves.
“Too bad for you, the rumor mill says I’m not your type.
” Since our first encounter, I had heard all kinds of rumors about Evan Nichols.
I had no idea if any of them were true, but I was allowed to mess with him if he made dirty comments about me.
Two could play his little game. “I’ll place your order. I’ll be right back.”
His face turned to stone, and he gripped my elbow when I whirled around to leave, pulling me against his side. Too close for comfort. I tried to jerk my arm free, but he only squeezed harder. “What have you heard?”
I scanned the table, praying someone would warn him to release me, but the guys were too absorbed in their food to notice our interaction. “Let go of me.”
“What did you hear?”
“That you prefer a few extra inches—where it matters. And a few more pounds of muscles.”
His posture became more rigid. Did I hit a nerve with my comeback?
“You think you have a smart mouth, huh? And that spreading rumors about me is a good idea? You need someone to shut you up with a dick or keep you on a leash.” He clamped my arm tighter and spoke into my ear.
“You should know that rumor mills are always full of shit. I won’t let you humiliate me in front of my teammates. And I won’t warn you again, ma jolie.”
I jabbed his calf with the toe of my shoe, and he finally released me.
I stepped back, my eyes locked on his. “If I were you, I’d follow my own advice.
Stay away from me unless you want someone to shut you up with a dick too.
Wanna be put on a leash while we’re at it?
” I spun around and walked away. “Dickhead,” I murmured to myself.
Mixed feelings stormed inside me. I hated having to put people in their place, but it was part of the job, and I was getting better at it every day.
Nichols wasn’t so different from the other customers who I wished would never set foot in Lola’s ever again.
Unlike some guys who got kicked out of here by Barry or Damon, I could tell Nichols talked a good game but wasn’t very good at following through on his threats.
Stupid jocks with giant egos, who thought every woman should kneel before them if they asked them to, were the worst kind of men.
I bet they possessed teeny-tiny dicks and used their big mouths to compensate for their lack of stamina and manhood.
I pushed the thought of Evan Nichols out of my mind because he didn’t deserve any more of my time, placed his order, and hurried to take care of my other customers, only dropping by the football team’s table when necessary.
“How was your night?” I asked Cassidy after I closed the door behind me and kicked my shoes off, my feet having some sort of orgasm from being freed.
My roommate was lying on her front on her bed, watching a TV show on her laptop, dressed in black cotton pants and a matching cropped shirt. “Okay… I went to that pub I told you about with Declan and two guys from one of my classes after dinner. Carl was there. By himself.”
“Sounds sketchy. Do you think he followed you there?”
She pressed pause on her laptop and turned to face me. “No idea. I don’t believe he is a threat, but it was weird. I only stayed for an hour because I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.”
“You should talk to him. Clear things up.”
“I know, but each time I try, he becomes mute or runs away. Declan offered to have a man-to-man talk with him, but I don’t want to scare him off in case he’s not actually spying on me and just happened to be there too, you know?
Anyway, enough of my drama. How about you?
Any creep giving you a hard time tonight? ”
“Not really. There’s this guy on Mason’s team who thinks he’s like Mr. Irresistible when he’s not.
He’s not worth wasting our breath on him, though.
Just another jock with a case of jerk syndrome.
” I peeled my Lola’s T-shirt and jeans skirt off and slipped into a pair of soft pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt before nearing her bed and sitting on the edge. “What are you watching?”
“A documentary about Egypt and mummification. I can put a true crime show on instead. I know you don’t like documentaries as much as I do.”
It wasn’t that I hated them, but they were just not entertaining or fictional enough for my liking. My roommate was obsessed with them, and I sometimes watched them with her because I knew it made her happy.
“Nah. I think I’ll just read instead. I borrowed the new thriller novel everyone is talking about the last time I was at the library, and I haven’t had time to start it yet.”
“Let me know how it is. I heard it was super scary.”
“I will.” Moving to my feet, I neared the little makeshift pantry and grabbed a snack, gliding my tired body under the covers. After returning from a late shift, I could never go to sleep right away, no matter how exhausted I was.
I looked in Cassidy’s direction, studying her serious expression as she became engrossed in the documentary once again, and wondered if Carl was a menace to her and she was downplaying the entire thing for my sake.
“Welcome back,” Luciana said as she took a seat on her usual red chair, a to-go cup of tea in hand, a soft smile grazing her lips.
During our first session, she confided that ten years ago, while attending college, she had suffered from bulimia as an aspiring ballerina.
She had shown us pictures of that time, explaining how people’s opinion of her body affected her mental health and led her to a life of substance abuse and episodes of purging.
Thalie and Rebecca went first, talking about their last week. Melody refused to share anything, and Victoria said she would talk once Meghan, her twin sister, arrived, which was supposed to be any minute from now.
“Melinda. How has it been going? Have you talked to that friend of yours? Any development?”
I felt stronger today about sharing pieces of my life. “We crossed paths a few times. Overall, it went well. We talked, which is a big step. I’m not sure we’ll ever be best friends again, but at least we can have a conversation without it being too awkward. He even walked me home one night.”
“Good. I’m proud of you. If you need to discuss it further, feel free to book a one-on-one appointment with me, and we can go over it together.”
“Thanks.”
“I recall your saying you sometimes count calories in your head when you’re about to eat something. We haven’t addressed the topic lately. Do you still do that?”
I pinched my lips together before answering.
“I had an episode not so long ago, but it hasn’t happened again since.
I was stressed, and I think it may have been related.
Like, I gotta focus on something when I feel my control slipping away.
Anyway, when I do, I try to remember the trick you shared about talking myself out of it.
Sometimes, I shake my head because I feel ridiculous for doing so.
” I pushed my shaky hands under my thighs.
“I went on a date and managed to enjoy the moment without obsessing over it. Counting calories wasn’t the first thing on my mind…
I was more preoccupied with what I should wear. ”
Luciana let out a heartfelt laugh. “That’s good. Nothing wrong about choosing the right outfit as long as it doesn’t turn into an obsession either.”
“It didn’t.”
“Awesome. It seems to me like you’re doing great on that front.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you proud of yourself?”
I smiled. “Yes. Very.”
“I hope so because I am proud of you. Keep up the good work.” She turned to face Samuel. “How about you? How was your last week?”
Meghan took a seat on my right and offered me a timid smile that I returned.
Maybe I had more reasons to be proud of myself these days than I gave myself credit for. The realization weaved its way to my heart.
My parents would be proud too if they were here. I really was doing better.
For a tiny second, my thoughts drifted to Mason and Paige. They would also be proud if they could see me right now. I wished I had never relapsed last year and that our friendship was still the highlight of my days. Because, right now, I missed what we used to be.
Did I have to go through hell to find my way back? I hoped the answer was yes because otherwise our falling-out would have been for nothing.