No. Maybe. I don’t know. I want her jealous, but nothing will make her jealous like Forest will.
And it will protect both of us.
How is she going to accuse him of being unable to move on? Or suggest I’m too fat for a boyfriend? Or say something snide about how guys love Asian chicks but only skinny ones?
I can’t even call her a bitch for pointing it out. Lots of guys think I’m too big. Plenty of people comment shit about how Asian women are supposed to be skinny on my blog. Or something about how my white parent must be fat. Or how mixed girls are ugly.
I guess just as many talk about how mixed girls or hot. Or how bigger girls are hot. But, somehow, that’s just as bad.
Like I’m an object that only exists for their dick.
Not that I—
I mean, I’m not exactly a slut, but I do enjoy said body part. In the context of a happy relationship. I’ve been in two. Neither was mind-blowing, but they were nice enough.
I never fell in love.
Never wanted everything in their heart.
Not like with Forest.
“Doesn’t your dad follow you?” Forest asks.
“On Facebook.”
“He sees this?” He taps his cell a few times. Brandishes an image from my Instagram.
I’m kneeling on the sand in a retro black bikini, my hands in my hair, my gaze faraway.
“What about it?” Sure, it’s a bikini. That’s what people wear at the beach. I have my insecurities, yes, but I don’t let them get in my way.
“Your tits are spilling from that thing.”
“So?”
“So, that’s your dad.”
“He doesn’t have an Instagram, okay.” I take another sip. Let out another sigh. “And I don’t cross post on Facebook.”
“‘Cause you don’t want him seeing it.”
“No…” Of course. Who wants their parents’ comments on their body?
My parents mean well. They say all the right things. It’s just it’s so obvious they’re trying to say the right things. You look wonderful, honey. I appreciate your bold style and your confidence. Your body is yours and we’re proud of it no matter what. We’re proud of you no matter what.
I swear, they must have taken some seminar. How to instill confidence in your chubby daughter.
“Shit.” Forest’s eyes go wide.
“Don’t tell me my parents are on there.”
“No. This.” He taps the screen a few times. Turns his cell to me.
Mackenzie Davis: Hot! I’m surprised you’re so bold in public. XOXO
“So…” It is hot. And my pictures are always hot. And she’s a heinous bitch for that snide commentary. I know what it means. It means wow, how did you manage to convince someone as hot as Forest to appear in public with a troll like you?
“She is jealous.”
“Yeah.”
“Does it feel good?” he asks.
It does. Victorious. But more than that too. Like I’m protecting him. Like he really is mine. “What about the comment?” I tap the rest of her comment.
He chuckles. “She was into the public sex thing, but I wouldn’t do it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” His cheeks flush.
“Oh.” A beautiful mental image flits through my head. Forest dragging me to the bathroom, pinning me to the wall, pulling my dress to my waist—
“I’ve done it since.”
“Oh.” It’s so hot in here.
“It can be fun. But I don’t get off on it.”
“Oh.”
“You okay?”
“Oh.” Is that three? Four? A thousand? There aren’t enough ohs for this conversation.
“You ever?”
“Did I ever—”
He motions to the bathroom. “In public?”
“Um, only second base.”
“Second base?”
“I was in high school.” And, I, uh… “There was a time at a party. But we were in a different room.”
“And you—”
“No comment.”
“You fucked a guy with your friends in the next room?”
“No, I…” I trip over my tongue. I want him to think I’m as cool and carefree about sex as he is. “It was more… hand stuff.”
He chuckles. “Hand stuff?”
“What?” My cheeks flush.
“It’s so rare you’re shy.”
“You have one disgusting pervert in your life.”
He raises a brow.
“Holden.”
“Oh.” His chuckle gets louder. “True.” He shakes his head with understanding. There’s something he’s not saying.
Something about how he’s an even bigger pervert. How he wants to do truly filthy things to me.
Uh…
That’s…
Yeah…
That’s totally what he’s thinking. Totally.
“Fuck.” He pulls up his social media. Which is ninety percent tattoos. Or maybe ninety-nine percent. “You remember that time your date got sick the night before your friend’s wedding?”
“Of course.” I try to focus on my matcha, but my eyes stay on his hands. What the hell is he doing?
“I took you.”
“You rented a tux and everything.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I looked ridiculous.”
A little. But he also looked super hot. Fuck, Forest in a suit. If we do this, he’s going to wear a suit to the wedding. I get to put my hands all over that suit. “You looked good.”
“We danced together all night,” he says.
“Well, yeah. Holden tricked the DJ into playing your music,” I say.
Forest’s smile gets nostalgic. “A bunch of people snapped pics. When Mack saw them, she got pissed. Demanded details about what we did after. Exactly where we went, when I got home, what I did when I was there.”