Page 52 of Tenderfoot

The whole truth?

Not really.

Although what he just said was lovely, and he was being even lovelier, he’d said some really mean things.

But in that moment, with the way he was looking at me, like the only thing in the world he wanted was that I say, “Yeah, okay,” adding this to the way he was holding me, the smell of him, the feel of his hands on me, the warmth of his body suffusing mine, I decided I could wait until later for him to share.

So I said, “Yeah, okay.”

The open relief that washed through his handsome face told me I’d made the correct decision.

He gave me a squeeze, let me go and stepped away.

“Warm up the food, I’ll get your treats,” he said, pulling out his phone.

I went for the bag, replying, “Really, you don’t have to. Like I said, I shouldn’t self-soothe through food.”

His next question arrested me.

“Who told you that?”

I turned to him, and instead of sharing I learned that from my mother, I educated, “It’s not a healthy habit.”

“What’s not a healthy habit is restricting yourself from having something you dig,” he returned.

I blinked.

“The more you tell yourself you can’t have it, the more you want it, the more you’ll abuse it when you break down and allow yourself something you should have allowed in the first place,” Javi stated. “Then you feel shit that you let loose, which leads you to feeling more shit you abused it, and you’re right back where you started, wanting it, denying yourself, then taking it too far, only for that fucked-up cycle to repeat itself over and over.”

I stood still and could do nothing but stare.

“It’s not a crime to eat ice cream,” he said, and with him making that simple statement, suddenly the fact that all my life I thought it was seemed ludicrous.

“You’re right,” I said.

He studied me and I didn’t move because I was caught in his gaze as well as still in the throes of processing this epiphany he’d led me to.

In a sweet, careful voice, he declared, “You got a beautiful body, baby.”

I felt my cheeks heat, my heart soar, and my mouth move.

“I’m pudgy.”

Oh God.

Why did I say that?

Worse!

Why did I say it to a guy I liked who liked me?

And it hit me he liked me. One could say you didn’t hold a girl’s jaw and scrape your evening stubble on her cheek if you liked her just as a friend.

I didn’t get to fully enjoy this world-rocking understanding, seeing as the cautious warmth vanished from his gaze and something terrifying entered it.

“Now who told you that?” he bit out.

“I-I think we might have a bunch of heavy to go over, Javi.”

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