Chapter 32
Alice
F or my entire life I’ve heard things like “real women have curves,” and I’ve always agreed that curvy women are beautiful, but the concept left me feeling inadequate. Staring at the raw footage of the photos on Elliotte’s computer feels like peeking through a window into a parallel universe, one where I might be just as beautiful. The woman in these pictures doesn’t seem small, or bony, or flat. The only thing that comes to mind is she looks…hot. Really hot. And she’s me.
“No way,” Jake tries to protest when he sees me reaching for my wallet. “This is supposed to be a gift.”
As much as I appreciate what he’s done by setting all of this up, he was right when he said this is something I need to do for myself.
“Listen, I will never be able to thank you enough for the idea, and I love that you’re here, but I have to do this part on my own. I don’t want to feel like I needed another man to buy my freedom from Owen.” I’m not trying to diminish his gift, but if today is about taking my power back, then I need to know I did all of this with my own strength, and I want to own these photos in every possible way.
“I think I get what you’re saying, so I’m not going to fight you on this, but you do realize now this means I need to come up with a whole new birthday gift, right?”
“Don’t you dare. This was perfect.”
I hand Elliotte my debit card while I scoot my chair closer to Jake so I can tuck my arm behind his back. When I lean into his side, his fingers reach up to brush the tiny hairs at the base of my neck. His touch sends goosebumps up my arms again, and a warm shiver runs through me. Elliotte thanks us and says she’ll send a link to the digital files when they are ready.
We head back to Jake’s apartment, and when we get inside, he takes two small ice cream cups from the freezer. They’re like the ones our school used to sell in the cafeteria, but these are labeled dairy-free.
“We can’t celebrate your birthday without these. It’s tradition.”
I shake my head and smile as he produces two tiny wooden spoons. “It’s not even my birthday yet. But I suppose this is a gift I can accept. I haven’t seen one of these since we were kids.”
He peels the cardboard lid from his cup and leans a hip against the counter. “You know, I was trying to remember, and I can’t think of a time I was ever invited to a birthday party for you while we were growing up.”
“That’s because I didn’t have them,” I tell him, stabbing the little spoon into the too-hard dessert.
“I was afraid that was going to be the reason. I almost hoped it was because you weren’t a big fan of mine.”
“What are you talking about? You and I were tight back then. Just maybe not as tight as my parents’ budget.” I shrug. “I definitely would’ve invited you if I had a party. You let me tag along that time your mom rented a bus to drive out to the arcade for your birthday.”
“I remember that. Two kids puked up pizza and cake on the way home, and my mom complained for six months because she had to pay an extra cleaning fee.” Jake shakes his head and smiles. “So, what did you usually do on your birthdays, then?” He asks as he leads me over to the living room. We sit close together on the couch, our legs touching.
“Sometimes my mom would invite Danielle to sleep over and we would do the typical hair braiding and making friendship bracelets thing. Once we drove out to Taco Terrace and I got a kids’ meal. That was when they still had the indoor playground. For the most part, it was just another day. My mom really tried to make it special, though. We never had a lot of extra money, but every year she would put heart-shaped sticky notes on my door. One for every year of my age. Like when I was ten, there were ten hearts. She would write nice things about me on them.”
“What did they say?”
“I wish I kept them. I don’t really remember now. Probably things like she loved me, or she thought I had a good smile.”
“You do.” I can’t help but smile at the compliment, which causes him to say “See?” and makes me roll my eyes.
“She always tried to have a gift for me to open, too. Usually, it was something from the clearance section at the grocery store, like bubbles she’d picked up for a few cents at the end of the summer season. But it was the hearts I really looked forward to. And her peach cake. She always made that for birthdays.”
“That’s right. I remember now. That cake was really good.” He stretches out on the couch and lays his head on my lap. I absentmindedly run the fingers of my left hand through his hair while my other hand reaches over him to set my empty container on the coffee table.
“Yeah, it was. I have the recipe, but I’ve never tried to make it.” My mom’s peach cake was almost legendary. Friends would call to request it for special occasions.
“Do you want to try to bake it? I can help,” Jake offers.
“Maybe one day, but right now, I want to stay just like this.”
He only answers with a contented hum.
“Hey, Jake?”
“Yeah?’ His eyes are still closed. My fingers go still as I gather my courage.
“What would you say if I suggested breaking our one rule?”
His brown eyes pop open and stare up at me. “I thought we did that when we decided to start dating?”
“True. But, technically, the rule was about not having sex, so we haven’t actually broken it yet. What would you say if I wanted to?”
He sits up and faces me on the couch. I nod and bite the corner of my lip.
“I’d say hell yes! I’d break every rule in the world for you, Ace. Especially the stupid ones.”
“That one was pretty stupid.” I smile against his lips while he pulls me into a hungry kiss. I massage his tongue with mine for just a second before I pull back, leaving only an inch of space between us.
“Hey, Jake?” I say again.
He dips his head and hums a questioning noise into my collarbone as he palms my chest over the fabric of my dress.
“Do you think I could get a tour of your apartment? I haven’t seen your bedroom.”
His mouth finds mine again, and I let out a small squeal as he stands and lifts me. He wraps my legs around his waist, carrying me down the hall. When we reach the bed, he drops me onto the mattress, and I pull my dress over my head. I’m still turned on from our photo shoot, and I’m tired of denying how much I want him.
“Condom. Now.”
“Always so bossy,” he teases.
“Whatever. You love me.”
We both freeze the second the words are out of my mouth. Then a slow smile spreads across his face, and he reaches under his mattress for a condom and strips himself out of his clothes.
He didn’t deny it.
It’s all I can think about until he has me seeing stars and my body is so relaxed that I can’t think about anything at all.