Page 23 of Dark Notes

“Would you mind if I ordered chicken from room service?”

“You don’t like red meat? Shit, I should’ve asked.”

I shake my head. “I’m on a special diet, and I don’t eat any of these things.”

“Why?”

I turn away from him. “To lose weight. You know this already, Jagger.”

He grabs my shoulders and turns me back to him. “Make me understand. I thought when your relationship ended, this would too.”

I stare at him silently because this is a difficult thing to discuss with him. He knows bits and pieces, but I don’t think he understands how fucked up I am.

“Tell me.”

I take a deep breath. “As you know, he put me on a diet. I’m not allowed to have any protein other than chicken. He might be out of my life, Jagger, but I’m still fat.”

“And if you didn’t lose weight, what happened, McKinley?”

I swallow hard. “Mondays were weigh-ins. If I didn’t lose anything or gained weight, he got angry.”

His expression registers disgust. “Weigh-ins?”

“Yes.”

Jagger closes his eyes tight. “I want to fucking kill him.”

He opens them and shakes his head. “Baby, you are perfect the way you are. Sit and eat with me, but I will order you chicken, even though I would like you to eat some of this as well. If you haven’t eaten red meat for a long time, it can make you sick to eat too much at once.”

“It’s been two and a half years.”

He takes my hand in his and pulls me to the table. “Let’s enjoy each other and try to forget about that asshole.”

As he pulls my chair out for me, I say a quiet, “Thank you,” before sitting down, and he moves to the other side and sits across from me.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he texts someone before setting it down with a forced smile. “Chicken ordered. We are in the penthouse, so it’ll be quick.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

He finishes cutting his steak and places his hand over mine, while he rubs his thumb over my knuckles.

“Baby, you didn’t ruin anything. It breaks my damn heart knowing he has done this to you. Please try a few bites of steak. By then, your chicken should be here.”

I nod as he removes his hand from mine, and I cut into the meat, feeling like I’m doing something wrong. The anxiety in my chest climbs, like I’m waiting for Erik to come in and find me being a ‘fat pig’. I take a bite while Jagger watches me closely. The flavor is unbelievable.

“This is really good, thank you,” I say after I swallow.

“I want to be perfectly clear about something, McKinley.”

Lifting my head, I meet his gaze and listen to his serious sounding tone.

“I don’t give a fuck what you weigh. For me, I’d prefer you don’t go and lose a bunch of weight, because I fucking love your body. Every part of it. If you want to lose weight for you, I’ll support you, but please don’t ever think it’s what I want, because I don’t. Gain twenty pounds, I don’t fucking care.”

I put another bite on my fork and try to change the subject, “What’s your favorite kind of music?”

He smiles as he finishes the food in his mouth, swallows, and says, “There’s few genres of music I don’t like at all. I grew up listening to eighties rock. My mom is a massive Def Leppard fan, they’re one of her favorite bands. That’s probably my favorite,because it always brings the memories of my mom singing in the kitchen.”

After I swallow my food, I ask, “Is she a singer?”

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