Page 29 of The Bodyguard
“And that’s really the only reason you’re home?”
She didn’t reply, just nodded and sipped her wine. I didn’t push the issue. It was fair to say, though, that I didn’t think she trusted me completely. Probably with good reason.
Grace brought the food and I watched Brin stare down at the cheeseburger. Hard.
“American cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and onion. Mayonnaise and lots of ketchup, too,” I told her. “One bite. For me.”
She smirked. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“Yes, you do. I made those bullies in the cafeteria stand down your freshman year. You totally owe me for that.”
I watched her remove some of the bread from the bun and scrape off some of the mayonnaise. Then she cut the burger into quarters, picked one up, and bit into it. Her eyes nearly rolled back into her head.
“Fuck me, that’s so good!” she groaned after she’d swallowed her first bite. “Oh, my God, I forgot what grease tasted like.”
I wanted to tease her. I wanted to laugh at her. But I couldn’t say a damn thing.
I had an immediate full-on erection. I was so stone hard that if she took another bite of that burger I was going to come in my jeans. Fortunately she set the remainder of the quarter down, wiped her fingers with a napkin, and took a fork to the salad.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” she said, spearing a cherry tomato. “Not having it at all, or having a single bite so that you remember what you’re missing.”
I needed to think of something besides the expression on her face when she’d swallowed, so I focused on what she said earlier.
“What did you mean when you said weight was power?”
She arched her eyebrow like I was asking a stupid question. I suppose I was. Men assessed women by their appearance all the time. I knew that. But I think it was wrong to assume what was attractive to one man was the same for another.
“As a thin woman I had more power than as a fat one,” she said baldly.
“You’re saying only women of a certain size can be attractive? That seems rather harsh on your own sex.”
She blinked. “No, absolutely not. Women are beautiful in every shape and size. And women who believe in themselves are attractive, no matter what other people think. But that wasn’t the case for me growing up. I didn’t set out to lose weight. I just started running because running helped me to cope with…all of it. The more I ran, the thinner I got. The thinner I got, the more power I had in my family. With my mother, with my father. Then, the thinner I got in LA, the more that made me a viable candidate for a reality TV show. The producers sought me out. Do you honestly think there would be a Cowboy Princess if I didn’t look a certain way?”
I hated that she was right so I didn’t reply.
“I should have clarified. Weight was about power forme. I recognize it’s not the same for everyone. But this,” she said casually, waving her hand over her face and body, “is all I have.”
“You’re more than how you look, Brin,” I said, not happy with her self-assessment.
She tilted her head as if she was considering that. “Am I? Some people who watchCowboy Princesswouldn’t think so. At best, I’m known as shallow. At worst…I’m considered nothing more than a brainless Barbie doll.”
“You said it yourself. You were playing a role.”
“Hmm. Anyway, that’s my life.”
I watched her eyes dart to it. The quarter of the burger. Ketchup was running down the sides, a piece of bacon was sticking out. It was tempting as fuck, but she didn’t stray from her lettuce.
“I can’t imagine having that kind of willpower,” I said suddenly, feeling guilty for having pushed it on her in the first place.
She shrugged. “I’m used to not getting what I want. It’s easy.”
That didn’t make any sense. Sabrina was rich, beautiful. She could get anything she ever wanted.
“Sabrina, you have everything.” I felt like I had to remind her of that.
She pushed away the burger and the half-eaten salad.
“No, Garrett,” she said with a smile. “I have shoes.”
And it damn near broke my heart.
