“Then why did you keep us from the club?” I asked. “It felt like I was a dirty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about.” Again, I had been kept a secret before, and it sucked.
Pie dropped my hands and ran his fingers through his hair. “I know that’s what it looked like, but I can tell you that I was far from ashamed of you.”
I sighed and moved to the edge of the water. “Then what was it?” I asked. I couldn’t think of any reason why Pie wouldn’t want people to know about us. Shame was the only explanation I could come up with.
He paced along the edge of the water. “I didn’t want to tell anyone about us because then it would put pressure on us. It would put us under the microscope, and then you might have realized that I wasn’t good enough for you.”
I wasn’t good enough for him? Say what? What in the hell was he talking about? “Have you looked at me, Pie?” I laughed. “If anything, you’re the one who is better than I am.” He was all sexiness and swagger while I was round and awkward. Swagger didn’t go with awkward.
Pie turned and stared at me. “What in the hell do you see when you look in the mirror, Bristol?” he demanded. “Because I can tell you whatever you are seeing is not what you are.”
I looked down the length of my body. I was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a pale pink tank top. I normally didn’t like to wear anything sleeveless, but bread making days got hot in the kitchen. “I’m wearing my bread clothes and crusty tennis shoes, Pie. I’m not a beauty queen.” Far from it.
“And you think that what I want is a beauty queen? That I care that much about looks that it’s the only thing I care about?” Pie sounded offended, and I knew this conversation was going to go bad quickly.
I wasn’t meaning to insult him. “I’m just trying to save you from the ridicule you are going to get when we walk down the street or walk into a store together.” I had told him about the numerous people who had been mean to me. Did he not understand that if they were that way to me, they would do the same to him? He saw how rude the girl was at Mr. Speed’s the other night. That was normal.
“Do you really think I care what the hell people think or say?” he asked.
I laughed flatly. “I say that same thing, Pie, but when you have someone saying to your face that you are fat and a waste of space, that confidence you thought you had flies out the window, and you’re just a fat person wishing just to disappear.”
Pie growled and shook his head. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to his body. “I am going to need the names of every person who has said a mean word to you, Bristol. I’m gonna beat some sense into them.”
“You’re gonna have to take on the whole world,” I whispered. I couldn’t even tell you how many people had been mean and nasty to me about the way I looked.
“Whatever it’ll take for you to realize that you are more than a few mean words spewed by jealous people,” he whispered.
“Jealous,” I scoffed. “I think you might have that wrong.” I couldn’t see how he thought those people were jealous.
Pie delved his fingers into my hair and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I don’t have it wrong at all. People are mean to you because they don’t know how to handle someone so talented, smart, and beautiful. They attack the one thing that think will hurt you.”
“Well, they’re right,” I sighed. I closed my eyes and sighed. “I love the person I am, Pie, but when people keep telling you the same thing over and over, it only takes a matter of time before you start believing them.”
“Then I guess I better start telling you every hour how smart, talented, and fucking beautiful you are. I don’t want a fucking twig that I’m afraid to break. I want you, and every curvy, lush piece of you.”
“You say that now, Pie, but things are different when those people are standing in front of you, tearing you down. I can tell myself until I’m blue in the face that none of those words matter, but they do.” Man, did they matter. How could I think I was beautiful when everyone in the world thought I was hideous because of my weight?
“You said that already, Bristol. I understand what you are saying, but you gotta know none of that fucking matters to me. You’re too fucking good for me, and I didn’t want you to realize it and then dump me. That was why I didn’t tell anyone about us.”
“But at Mr. Speed’s, Pie,” I pointed out. “That is only the tip of the iceberg that I deal with.” In the big picture, that girl’s rudeness was just the tip of the iceberg.
He leaned in until his lips brushed against mine. “The let me deal with it, and don’t fucking worry about me. I got some pretty thick skin, babe. Someone saying some ignorant shit about you and me isn’t going to hurt me. Not when I know the truth.”
“And what is that?” I whispered. What was the truth that Pie knew and I didn’t?
“I know you taste like honey, feel like heaven, and are one of the purest people I have ever met. That is what each and every one of those people sees, and they are jealous as fuck.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “They’re jealous of the fact that they aren’t worthy of you and can’t have you. Even though you gave some of those guys a chance, they knew they couldn’t keep you. In the end, you were going to find out that even though they maybe looked good on the outside, they were ugly as fuck on the inside. So instead of you finding out and breaking up with them, they did it before you hurt them.”
I felt a tear roll down my cheek. “You always say the right thing, Pie. You know what my heart needs to hear.” How did he do that?
“Because I’m also one of those people who are jealous, but I know what you are, and I’m a jealous bastard who wants you all to myself.” His lips brushed against mine. “I want you for as long as you’ll have me, Bristol. Every curve on your lush body is the things my dreams are made of. With you by my side, it’ll be like I’m always dreaming.”
“Oh, Pie,” I sobbed. “Every person who was mean and nasty to me only helped me find you. As much as I feel insecure, I knew I was going to find someone to love me.” I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to his. “I didn’t think that someone was going to be a six-foot-two tattooed biker, but I’m damn glad it’s you.”
“I’m fucking glad it was me, too,” he sighed. Pie’s hands glided down my back, and he gr
abbed the back of my thighs. He lifted me into his arms and then laid me on the grass next to the pond.
“Do you think they have cameras out here?” I asked.