On the Plus Side (Chubby Girl Chronicles Book 1)

by Tabatha Vargo

  The necklace she held up was nice. It was a sterling silver rope chain with a silver, heart-shaped locket. It was only a hundred and fifty bucks so I could afford it, and she liked it so I’d buy it.

  “I think she would,” I said. “What do I put in it?”

  “Anything you want really. You could put a picture of the two of you in it or maybe have something engraved on the inside. That’s completely up to you.”

  “Okay, I’ll take it.”

  I followed her up to the cash register and watched as she neatly put the necklace in a little, red box. She did everything so softly; she wasn’t in any rush. Her plump fingers brushed gently across the necklace and then lightly over the box. I watched as she rang it up, touching the cash register again with what seemed like the softest touch. I found myself wondering how soft her hands felt. Her touch was relaxing, and it blasted me with a quick rush of chills.

  I looked up at her when she gave me the total, again noticing how deep her eyes were. “You have really beautiful eyes,” I blurted out.

  That wasn’t a part of my strategy. It was a stupid moment of unwelcomed honesty. I’d be sure that didn’t happen again.

  The tips of her cheeks warmed. “Are you flirting with me?” Genuine confusion laced her expression.

  I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was thinking of how unlikely it was for a man like me to be flirting with a girl like her. That or she really had no idea what flirting looked like and really wanted to know for reference purposes.

  “Maybe.” I smirked and shrugged my shoulders.

  Her eyes filled with panic, and the part of me I never used with strangers lit up with sorrow for her. She really had no idea how to respond to me and my tiny advances.

  “Um… thank you, I guess. For… for the eye comment,” she stuttered.

  “Don’t thank me… it’s the truth.” I held out the money to her.

  She finished the transaction and then put my receipt in the black bag containing the necklace. I stood there a minute, smiling at her and enjoying how nervous I made her, before I thanked her and left the store.

  Part one of my mission was complete.

  I ended up sitting in the café her mother told me about and drinking way too much cappuccino. I paid close attention to all the people coming in. I heard every order they made… a double shot of this and an extra pump of that. I’d never sleep again if I drank something like that. Shit, I was probably not going to sleep tonight after all this cappuccino.

  “Come on already, Lilly,” I whispered into the lid of my coffee cup.

  I was about five minutes away from giving up for the day and trying again tomorrow when I noticed her through the window. She walked in and breezed right by me. I was happy she didn’t notice me right away. I pretended to focus on the car magazine I had in my hand as I listened closely to her order.

  “Hey, Joey, just the usual,” she said.

  “Hey, girl! How’s it going? No mom meeting today?” He laughed.

  “That’s not funny, punk.” She giggled. “No, there’s no meeting today. I’m on my lunch break. Go ahead and throw in a turkey sandwich with that.”

  She sat at a little table in the corner across the café from me. I watched as she pulled out a little book and started to write something. This was it, this was the perfect time to go and join her. I stood up and grabbed my cappuccino. Slowly, I walked over to her table. She was so involved in what she was writing that she didn’t even hear me approach.

  “If it isn’t the brown-eyed beauty from the jewelry store,” I said.

  She looked up at me, and her full lips spread into a tiny smile. “If it isn’t the guy who knows nothing about his girlfriend,” she said as she sat her pen down.

  “Girlfriend? Who says that locket was for my girlfriend? Maybe it’s for my mom or my sister or…”

  “Are you seriously gonna play the no girlfriend game with me?” She lifted a cocky brow.

  “I’m sorry… I’m not sure I’m familiar with that game.”

  “I seriously doubt you’re single,” she said.

  “And why is that?” I slipped into the chair next to her and rested my chin against my fist. This was getting pretty interesting. She was going to attempt to psychoanalyze me. Good luck, sweet girl.

  “Guys like you are never single.”

  “Guys like me?” I laughed. “And exactly what kind of guy am I?”

  “You want me to be honest or you want me to sugarcoat it?”

  “I’ve always been a fan of honesty.” I bit my bottom lip and smiled inside when her eyes followed my action. She was thinking of what it would be like to kiss me… good. I wanted her to think things like that.

  “You’re that guy—tall, dark, handsome, and totally untouchable. You’re mysterious, which drives the girls wild, and all that confidence you have wrapped around yourself is a turn on, too. You’re a challenge, and it’s like encoded in human DNA to go after a challenge. I’m willing to bet you have a hundred different walls up to keep people out, which of course makes the girls even crazier. They all want to be the first one to know the real you, and I bet you love your car… which is probably some really great classic mustang that you’ve named Bertha or some other horrible old lady name.” She paused.

  Finally, she looked me in the eye, and I felt her deep gaze inside my boxers. Holy shit! She was turning me on.

  “Am I warm?” she asked with a questioning tilt to her head.

  I sat there, sifting through everything she had said. She was so close to the truth that it freaked me out.

  “You’re hot.” I gave her a direct gaze as I let the different meanings behind my words sink in. “Have you been watching me, naughty girl?” I attempted to shake the seriousness away.

  “Are you saying that I was right?” She smiled.

  She was so right it wasn’t even funny anymore.

  “No, I’m just curious where all that came from.”

  “I just described every man that would have nothing to do with me, so now my question to you is… why are you talking to me?” She lifted one eyebrow as if accusing me of something.

  This girl was very strange. Obviously, she had self-esteem issues, but at the same time, she was the most confident, outspoken woman I’d ever met… other than my sister, Jenny.

  Her honest eyes flipped my insides, and I felt a tiny bit of panic run up my spine. I was slowly losing control of the conversation, which was completely unacceptable. I internally shook myself and went in for the kill.

  “You think I’m handsome?” I flirted.

  “Don’t change the subject.” She blushed.

  “No, I think it’s you who’s changing the subject. Then it’s settled!” I said as I playfully smacked the tabletop.

  “What’s settled?”

  “As long as you’re not seeing anyone and since you obviously think I’m handsome… I’m taking you out.”

  “What do you mean out? Like a date, out?”

  “Yes, like a date out. What do ya say?” I shrugged.

  I was praying that I made some kind of impression on this girl, at least enough to get her to agree to go on a date with me. Everything was riding on this girl and making her happy for three months.

  “I don’t even know your name and you want me to go out with you?”

  This day couldn’t have gotten any more bizarre. Shannon got a mystery illness and I had to fill in all day long on a day that was supposed to be my half day. That worked out well though because I got to cancel my coffee date with my mom. When I thought I was going to die from boredom at the store, this tall, sexy somebody comes walking in and actually starts to flirt with me. Which I have to admit, I kind of enjoyed that part.

  Then, to top it all off, when I got to Mirabelle’s for my lunch break, who else but tall and sexy was sitting, practically waiting on me. Stranger things had happened, but I couldn’t help but want to pinch myself to see if I were dreaming.

  I stared back at the gorgeous man s
itting across from me. He couldn’t have been more perfect. It was like someone took all the physical qualities that I found attractive and put them all into this one extremely sexual stranger. It was almost unnatural that this beautiful man even spared me a look, much less talked to me, and yet, he was here, and he was asking me out.

  Even sitting, his tall frame towered over me. He made me feel small, and anything that made a girl my size feel that way was a damn good thing. His dark, wavy tresses melted down the side of his face and connected with his facial hair. I enjoyed the way his thin mustache and light goatee encircled his seductive mouth and turned it into a target for kissing.

  His wandering green gaze held sexual secrets and promised fulfillment as it slid over my face, down my neck, and then very brazenly over my cleavage. He was fearless, confident, and it was such a huge turn on.

  I remember at the jewelry store having to look up at him and the way he smiled when he looked down at me. Could you say sexy? Because I sure as hell could! The man had a smile that could bring a girl right to her knees, which would be bad considering I’d have a hell of a time getting back up. He had on a hunter green sweatshirt and relaxed jeans that looked like they were specifically made for him. He was born and bred to be eye candy. No other qualifications were necessary with a man like this.

  I realized then that he was talking to me, and I had no idea what he was saying. Embarrassment seeped in when I was caught gawking at him like a drooling dog, or should I say like a drooling, fat sow? I almost busted out laughing at my own thoughts, but instead, a huge, goofy grin spread across my face. He smiled back at me and got quiet.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I could feel my face burning.

  He chuckled a little before answering. It was as if he’d heard all my crazy thoughts.

  “I said my name is Devin… and you’re Lilly?” He leaned over and ran his finger softly across my name tag, which was practically on my left boob.

  I felt his touch through my clothing and soon, I felt my nipples getting hard inside my bra. They were probably pointing out like daggers saying, “Hey, hot guy! Look at me, look at me!” I put my head down and took a deep breath. My nervousness was becoming annoying. You’d think I’d never talked to a hot guy before in my life. It wasn’t like they were lined out my door waiting to have a conversation with me or anything, but I had spoken with attractive men. Of course, those conversations were nothing like the one we were having. He was verbally screwing my brains out as far as I was concerned.

  I had to pull it together and fast. I wasn’t some fifteen-year-old virgin… I was a twenty-year-old virgin. The extra age alone should have given me more nerve control. Not to mention, with my undying virginal status, it was obvious that I was in need of some male attention. My nipples practically leapt from my body with a single caress of my damn name tag. I was minutes away from stripping naked and screaming, “Oh yeah, baby, finger my name tag!”

  I made a mistake by letting my eyes dip to his mouth again, and his smile knocked me stupid once more.

  “Yes, my name’s Lilly. It’s nice to meet you, Devin.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. Now, are you gonna put me out of my misery and go out with me?”

  His voice was so rich and creamy. Yes… creamy. It was becoming obvious to me that I watched entirely too many cooking shows since it was the only word that even came close to describing his voice. The word made me imagine him smoothing peanut butter all over me and licking it off. I’d make myself a Lilly peanut butter cup for this man… no questions asked.

  He asked again and, again, his voice shook me. It vibrated through me like the sound waves were attacking my nervous system, and all I could think about for a minute were the colorful penis toys that my friend Erin had purchased at the local sex toy store.

  What could one date hurt?

  “I will,” I said breathlessly.

  The words came out before I could stop them. What I really wanted to say was, “why me?” but I thought that might have been unattractive, so instead, I just smiled and shook my head yes or no to his questions. I pretty much acted like I belonged on the short bus during our entire conversation.

  He asked me how Friday night sounded. After telling him I had to work Friday, we agreed that he would pick me up afterwards. I heard him say something about dinner and a movie. He was doing something to my senses. I pretty much went deaf, dumb, and blind all at the same time. The man knocked me senseless!

  I gave him my number, and he wrote his down on a napkin. I enjoyed the way his thick fingers maneuvered the pen. Then, just as quickly as he came, he was leaving me. I watched him walk out of the café. He slipped my number into his back pocket once he made it to the door. I was sad to see him go, but I enjoyed watching him leave.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Shannon and I couldn’t believe I was saying this, but I had to get my ass to the nearest fat girl friendly store and buy some new clothes for our date, which just so happened to be my first date ever.

  After work, I practically broke down Shannon’s bedroom door to tell her the news. I was out of breath and had broken a sweat by the time I made it there. We jumped around like sixteen-year-old girls and then collapsed on her bed while I described how unbelievably hot he was. I explained why I was so confused and didn’t understand why he would want to take me out.

  “Lil, you’re crazy! Why wouldn’t he want to take you out? You’re gorgeous!”

  “Thanks, but guys like skinny girls… and hello?” I grabbed at my fat roll and laughed.

  “Not all guys like skinny women, babe. Some guys love a thick woman. They like a little junk in the trunk.” She popped her butt out in emphasis. “We call them chubby chasers.”

  I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself. Chubby chasers? Thank God I had an awesome sense of humor about all of this. Of course, I always had. Whenever I watched a comedian on TV, I always laughed at the fat jokes. Why not? They were funny and since I was a fat girl, it was either laugh or be offended. Getting mad would be a waste of my time. If I got offended every time someone said something funny about fat people, I’d spend my life pissed off.

  Shannon was a plus-sized girl, too, technically, except she was the kind of plus size that barely registered on the fat-o-meter. She was stuck in between worlds… too skinny to be in the fat girl club, but too fat to be skinny. She was only considered plus size because her jeans were in the double digits. Instead of calling her a big girl, we just called her thick. Personally, I laughed in the face of size fourteen!

  She had long, auburn hair that never seemed to be in control and pretty hazel eyes that showed her sweetness, which was the only way you’d see it. Her height gave her a slimmer appearance, while her firecracker attitude and the random trickle of freckles across her cheeks matched the red in her hair. I was sure her sarcastic comebacks made high school a breeze for her, but still, her witty, smartass nature won me over. I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.

  I met her three years ago when she first came into Franklin’s looking for a job, and we’d been inseparable since. At a year younger than me, she acted like the unruly little sister that I never had. She was my first real friend and even though I never said it, I thought she knew it.

  We finished our uplifting “power to the fat girls” conversation and started getting everything ready for game night. Every Wednesday night, a group of our friends came over and we had a few drinks and played board games.

  There were six of us all together. Shannon and me, of course, and then there was Erin, who was tall and bronze with long, black hair. We called her our beautiful Indian friend, but she was made to be a plus-sized model.

  There was Anna, who was the shortie of the group—five-foot-one, round, and adorable, with shoulder-length dark hair and green cat eyes that I was sure you could see in the dark. Her soon-to-be veterinary status was perfect for her sweet and giggly personality. A rabid dog would love on Anna. The response she got from animals was freaky, so we all called he
r the pet detective.

  Meg was the skinny blonde in the group. She wasn’t your average skinny blonde, though. She was different. We liked to call Meg, “a fat girl stuck in a skinny girl’s body.” She might look like the cheerleader you’d love to hate, but she had the personality of the sweet, round band geek.

  Last, but never the least, was Randy. He was the girlie one in the group and the only one who was getting any action in the sex department. Occasionally, he brought along a new boy toy, but most of the time, he kept his love life at the gay club down the street, which, by the way, was the best place to have a good time around here.

  Once everyone showed up to game night, we got in an all-out Phase 10 war followed by a very long game of perverted Scrabble. Shannon, of course, blabbed about my date with a hot stranger, which had Randy fanning himself.

  “Oh, honey, there ain’t nothing like some hot stranger sex! Let me tell you!”

  We all laughed, even though I doubted any of us, with the exception of Randy, knew anything about stranger sex.

  It felt like a whole other day when I finally laid my head on my pillow at one in the morning. I didn’t dream that night and as soon as I closed my eyes to go to sleep, the alarm clock went off at seven.

  I stopped off at Mirabelle’s for a coffee before I unlocked and opened the store for the day. Shannon and I watched TV in between customers, and soon it was time to close for lunch. I was sitting at the corner table. It was now my favorite table in Mirabelle’s, thanks to the inspiring lovebirds from a few weeks before.

  When I didn’t have pockets in my pants, my bra became my phone holder. So, when my cell phone rang, it vibrated my boob and caused me to jerk. I touched my screen and accepted the call from the number I didn’t know.

  “Hello!” I answered happily

  “Is this Lilly?”

  “That’s me!”

  “Hey, this is Devin. Can you talk for a few or are you busy?”