Picture Perfect

by Thomas, Alessandra

  “I never forget. I think of it every time I see you.”

  Which was a lot. He “saw” me almost every day. I was staying over at his place more than I was staying in the sorority house.

  He kissed my shoulder, biting it softly, and pulled away. “Okay, I seriously do need to stop.” He winced and grunted as he took a seat on one of the studio stools, adjusting the crotch of his jeans, and I grinned in satisfaction.

  “That’s what happens when you fool around in the studio.”

  “All right, well, I’ll just have to help you out so that we can get home sooner.”

  His use of the word home with regard to the space we shared so often felt so good, so familiar, that I had to scold myself before I felt too good about it. Nate and I had been together only four weeks. We said a lot of things when we were in the middle of sex, and I’d almost screamed that I loved him in the middle of an orgasm, which he had become masterful at delivering to me.

  But I always bit it back. For one thing, because it had only been four weeks, and for another, because I knew Nate, I respected his story, and I knew that “I love you” had to be based on something other than his incredible in-bed abilities and in-bed equipment.

  Although I thought “I love you” to his chest every time he pulled off his shirt, I wouldn’t tell him that.

  “So, can you tell me about that design? The wrap top and cinching at the waist, what’s that for?”

  I stood back and cocked my head again. “I think it’s just that those are the two parts of my body I really love. So I want to emphasize them.”

  “Yeah, but if you really look at what you’re doing, it’s a really sound architectural design. It’s all about balance, you know? It’s a matter of proportions. One thing balances out another. Damn, Cat. You know, we really are in the same career.”

  I beamed at him. “Okay, so can you tell me where the trouble is with this design, then? I can’t figure it out.”

  He stepped back even further. “The bottom of the skirt.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” I’d designed an A-line that skimmed over my saddlebags and ended just past my knees, so those thighs I hated so much would be completely covered.

  “First of all, it’s too long.”

  “You know I hate my thighs.”

  “And you know I’m obsessed with them,” he said, his eye sweeping down over the yoga pants I’d taken to wearing with everything, probably in no small part because he said they looked good, and noticed how the seams lay kind of like riding pants. “But that’s not the point,” he said. “The balance is all off. You’re tall enough that if you showed enough leg, it would put the legs that are exposed in a near perfect two-thirds balance with the rest of the dress. Even if you’re not wearing heels....”

  “Oh, I’m wearing this?”

  “You can make it for yourself, right?”

  “If I am, I will be wearing heels.”

  “You won’t. It kills your shin, and when I rub your legs I want it to be sexy, not because you’re in pain. There’s no reason for you ever to be in pain.”

  “Except when you’re kicking my ass at the rock wall, you mean.”

  “Yeah, but that’s the good kind of pain. And at the rate we’re going, you’ll be kicking my ass by Christmas.

  “Good kind of pain, indeed. It’s the reason my arms will still look good in this dress.”

  “They’ll look better out of it.” He winked. “And the whole damn thing will look better if you bring the bottom of that skirt in.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No way.” He bent down and pulled the skirt tight from the back. “See? Wide, gorgeous shoulders. Tucked-in waist. Round, incredible hips, shapely knees. They’re all parts of a balanced whole. When two things are wide in a row, it doesn’t look quite right.”

  Damned if he wasn’t right. I smirked, raised my eyebrows, held the skirt right where his hands were, and slipped in a thick pin. We both stood back, assessing it. He let out a low wolf whistle, crossing his arms. “Great. Now just get a mannequin that’s approaching your level of hotness and we’ll have something to look at.”

  I spun around, grabbed his shirt, and kissed him hard on the mouth. “I’ll give you something to look at,” I said. “Your place or mine?”

  “Your place,” he said, “But not for what you’re thinking. We’re going out with Joey and a bunch of your friends. I asked her. I want us to do something you used to do. I want to get to know your friends. And you haven’t been going out like you used to, you know?”

  Great. Exactly the same thing Doctor Albright had said. It didn’t matter whether he was suggesting it, or she was—I still didn’t feel ready.

  I pouted, but tried to make it look sexy. From the look on his face, it wasn’t working.

  He pulled me to him again. “You okay?”

  I didn’t quite feel okay, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. “Perfect. Help me come up with something to wear?”

  ***

  Two hours later, I stood in front of the mirror at my place, staring at every last one of my curves poured into a sequined black shift dress with a low neck and a mid-thigh skirt. “Your arms are fucking incredible, Cat. And that ass.” He grabbed it, then spread his hands out over my stomach, bending in to kiss my neck.

  “Okay, okay,” I smiled. “Hands off, if we’re going to make it out.”

  The club was not anything I would have chosen to go to—at least, not since my accident. My entire perception of college life had changed since then. Before, it had been about pushing my body to the limit—how little could I eat that day to look good in that dress, how crazily could I dance, how much could I party? Now, it was...well, I didn’t know exactly what it was. But I knew I liked eating like a normal person, and I liked being with Nate. I liked tasting my food, and I liked savoring my time with him. I definitely loved how he made me feel. When it came down to it, I just really wanted to spend all my free time with him.

  The very thing Doctor Albright was against.

  I had pretty much stopped drinking since I met him, too. One, because he didn’t party, and two, because I wanted to be fully conscious for every moment with him. Because of the abs, and also the incredible way he took his time with me, like I was just as important as school or family or anything else.

  We caught a cab and had it take us to the edge of Old City Philadelphia. “Hayley said they’d been dying to try out this place since you guys got back. Awesome atmosphere, good dance music while still being relaxed. A place to rest your leg. There’s no reason you should miss out on the Philly fun just because you have a stupid rod in there. ”

  I had texted with Joey, who had promised she was going to be there too, with anyone she could drag along. She was into indie music, and Robot Clive, a new techno group whose stuff had been making the rounds online, would be there. She was dying to hear them and so I believed she’d drag as many of our sisters as possible along with her.

  When we pulled up to the bar, Joey and four of our sisters were waiting outside, fidgeting in the cold. “Oh, thank God,” Joey gasped, tripping up to the cab and grabbing my arm to drag me closer to the girls. “It looks crazy weird in there and I didn’t want to go in without you. Also, group discount.”

  Even though she was tiny next to me—I swore it felt like half my size tonight—Joey linked her arm in mine and tugged me inside. I wanted to wait for Nate, but the girls were already halfway through the door. Joey threw a glance over her shoulder. “Hey, Nate,” she said. “You coming?”

  Nate flicked his chin up, in a gesture that told me to go on ahead. It felt weird, but also natural, to be doing things with these girls again.

  Inside, Fluid was one of the craziest and most eclectic places I had ever been. Short sets of stairs wound their way from the lower to upper levels and back again. One wall was covered in luxurious pillowed fabric, and the rest were given a mottled stone treatment. Arches sat at the top of every doorway, and curved metal banisters de
corated the stairs. And the whole thing was bathed in a light, yet rich, blue light.

  “It’s like some creepy Hobbit lair,” one of the girls said, and I joined in laughing. But seriously, holy shit, it was.

  The light wasn’t the only thing that glowed in the room. All the drinks in peoples’ hands glowed starkly. “The alcoholic ones light up,” Joey said. “It’s like, a thing.”

  Nate sidled up to me and slid his hand around my waist, squeezing me right under my ribs. Right where I liked it. “What about the neon liquid?” he asked, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

  “Oh, it’s the alcohol,” I said, making a face. I knew he was fine going out, but making it so obvious who was drinking and who wasn’t seemed a little weird. I pushed up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Is this okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal. I’m just not having one. Which kind can I get you?”

  I twisted up my face, pushing an eyebrow down. I didn’t want to make him feel weird, but there was no way I was getting out on the dance floor with all those slim, confident girls without a little liquid courage.

  “Sweetie,” he said, pulling my lips to his and kissing me slowly, “it’s fine. What do you want?”

  “Something sweet,” I said, smiling gratefully.

  Joey tugged on my hand, leading me toward a cluster of tables. “Come on, we’re over here. Follow the glow,” she said, winking.

  A cluster of glowing pink and blue drinks led me right to Hannah, who was stroking hands and making out with Jake. The Jake.

  Guess they’d gotten back together.

  Panic fluttered through my chest and dropped into my stomach. Why didn’t I think about the distinct possibility that Jake would be here? I’d scarcely thought of him since my first time with Nate, but now that I saw him it all came rushing back. The pretty decent sex we used to have. The way he laughed, throwing his head back and letting his Adam’s apple bounce. The way he smelled, like expensive cologne. Like someone the old me should have been in love with.

  But, now that I’d been with Nate for just over a month, and seen how he’d taken an interest in me, not just sleeping with me—how he knew everything about me, and cared about my interests—the old me had never really been in love with Jake.

  Especially after the way he had taken one look at me, after the most devastating event of my life as I knew it, and dumped me like a bad habit. Asshole.

  Not that I missed him. At all. Still.

  Game face. Game face. Game face. Hannah and Nate are friends. Maybe it would be fine if I kept the two of them between me and Jake. Then, Nate was behind me, brushing my hair to the side and kissing the back of my neck.

  Hannah barreled out of her seat, launching herself at Nate and slinging her arms around his neck. He circled one arm around her waist and kept the other hand on me, so I wasn’t jealous of her hugging him so much as I was jealous of how cute and petite her figure looked pressed up against his. It was like I’d always thought couples should look, with one beautifully muscled guy and one tiny girl.

  Jake had never been beautifully muscled, and I had never been tiny. And we had never really been a couple, either, but seeing Hannah hugging Nate suddenly made me feel more self-conscious than I had in weeks. I gritted my teeth at the thought. I hated that I was slipping back so easily into thinking like that. Hated that as soon as I was with other people all I could do was compare myself to them.

  I scooted into the next half-circle booth, sliding my suddenly huge-feeling ass against the smooth plastic all the way to the center, hopefully lessening my chances of having to ever get up. My hands wrapped around my drink and I stared at the pink glow between my fingers as I tried to focus on my breathing, and the fact that Nate had just kissed my neck, and his hand had barely left my body and how, right now, it was sliding over my knee. And how big he was, and how incredible, and how he wanted me. Not a tiny girl.

  Joey ordered platters of appetizers—tiny gourmet pizza bites and miniature hamburgers. I’d been crazy about food since I’d met Nate—not pigging out, but tasting it, enjoying it, learning what made me feel good and strong, and what made me feel like shit. But my stomach turned when I saw all this. Something was just...off. I couldn’t picture putting food in my mouth.

  It was only when I took a drink that I realized I probably should eat something, if only to absorb the alcohol. Between not having eaten dinner and not having drunk very much for almost a year, every one of my senses was already starting to feel fuzzy. The benefit to that was that the freaky insides of the club actually started to look kind of beautiful. Slowly, the food disappeared from the table, and slowly, the drinks were refilled. By the time I’d gone halfway through my second, I felt warm. Good. Relaxed. A little more alive than I had half an hour before. I talked with my friends, but I’d never remember what I was talking about. Something about recruitment next semester and training for a marathon—something I couldn’t ever do—and some new show on TV. Everything was kind of a daze—a secure, warm one, though because Nate was right next to me, his hand on my thigh, talking to my friends. Like this was normal. Like this could be okay.

  Doctor Albright was right there in my head again. “Do you feel okay without Nate? Or is he just a crutch?” Sure, it was nice to have him there, but this was okay. This was good. I felt fine. Or I did, until the girls started dancing. As always, most of them were at least half a head shorter than me.

  They were all also just a little more than half my size, and watching their tiny bodies writhing in time to the music, clothed only in spandex stretchy dresses and skinny jeans on top of stiletto heels and tight tank tops. Everyone had arrived with jackets or cardigans, but it was so hot in this club that our booth was stuffed full with them.

  Suddenly, I felt pretty hot too. I shrugged out of my coat and watched the sequins dance on the neck of my dress. It was so pretty when it swung under these lights.

  It may have had something to do with the fact that Jake had left the booth about ten minutes earlier, doing God knows what, and now came back to the booth, holding out a hand for Hannah and pulling her to the dance floor. The techno had slowed to something much different, with a languid rhythm and pounding bass, from the throb that made drinking one and a half of those glowy concoctions into something I was happy about instead of something I was starting to regret.

  I looked down at my dress again. The bulge of my belly when I sat made it bunch up in a weird way and I just wanted it to stand up, stretch, even if I did tower over half the people there and reach the same height as most of the others.

  I leaned over to whisper into Nate’s ear, and oh Lord, when my lips brushed his neck it was so soft and warm and he smelled so Nate, that before I could even get any words out, I captured his earlobe between my teeth and ran my tongue along the underside of it. “Dance with me,” I murmured, my hot breath blowing the musky scent of his cologne back at me. Delicious. I grazed his neck with my teeth, and he let forth a little moan followed by half a laugh.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said. “Why did I think it as a good idea to spend an evening with you out of the house?”

  “That’s what I said before,” I murmured, drawing back and blinking some doe eyes at him. “But now we’re here and I feel good. And I want to dance. And there’s no way you’re going home with anyone but me.” His face twisted into a look of displeasure, but the music was too loud and I was too restless to stop and figure out what the hell was going on with him. We were here, and I was in a tiny, gorgeous dress, and the drinks were good, and my head was just a little fuzzy.

  We got to the middle of a crowd of our friends and faced each other, linking our fingers together and slow dancing with my hips grinding against his. We were so close I could feel how stiff he was, even through the thick sequined fabric of my dress and his pants and boxers. I was about to reach for him in my fuzzy haze, but had to remind myself this was not the time or the place.

  Nate let his hands clutch at my lower back, bunch
ing up the fabric there and making it hike up my ass a little bit. I knew I was tall, but compared to him, I felt powerful, feminine. I’d even worn heels.

  A round tray floated by with glowing blue shot glasses, and I took two. “Cat, I’m not…”

  “No, I know. They’re both for me,” I said, as I threw down the first, then the second, leaning back to perch them on a nearby booth. My throat burned and my head whirled, but it was such a warm, soft feeling, like everything was beautiful. I’d missed it, I realized. I’d missed being out and drinking and feeling like I was relaxed and celebrating life. But I mentally stuck my tongue out at Doctor Albright. Nate was right here, and I was feeling this way. I turned around, and let him dance behind me, his hands resting on my hips. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, and he clutched me harder.

  The beat picked up, the pounding music shaking the fixtures on the walls of Fluid. I turned around to face Nate again, and his hands pushed up through my hair. He covered my lips with his, tasting, playing with my tongue, and driving me absolutely fucking wild. When he sucked my tongue into his mouth, I moaned and pushed my fingers up underneath his shirt, splaying my fingers against his back.”

  “Hey, gorgeous. Hey.” Nate chuckled in my ear. “No sex on the dance floor.”

  I whimpered as my hand brushed down the front of his pants. “No one would notice,” I murmured. “I’m...substantial.”

  “You are absolutely beautiful. But no. They would notice. I’m just as tall as you are.”

  My tongue was thick and soft in my mouth. One more shot, and I wouldn’t be able to feel my lips. Here, in the middle of the dance floor, with everything wavering and my arms clinging to Nate, I felt okay. As long as I didn’t look at the other girls, how skinny they were. I hated that I was comparing myself to them, but I told myself that I had to remember I had always done that, even before I’d gained all this weight.

  “I have an idea. Let me walk you to the ladies’ room, I’ll go get our coats from the coat check, and meet you back there. And then we’ll get you home.”