Part 14 (1/2)
”Sure you are,” Christy said with a smile as she sat with some difficulty and propped her back against the headboard.
”Are you okay?”
”A bit sore.”
A devilish grin spread over his face. ”From the dancing or from the f.u.c.king?”
She laughed and ma.s.saged her thighs. ”Both probably. I'm not used to so much exercise.”
”You're good at dancing salsa,” he said to her. ”How did you get into it?”
”I thought we were going to talk about you now.”
”Nope, we aren't. You're far more interesting. How did you get into salsa?”
”It wasn't voluntarily, I can tell you that,” she muttered. ”My first sponsor forced me to learn.”
”Your sponsor forced you to learn salsa? What the f.u.c.k?”
She stared at him. Not only did he get out of talking about himself, but he'd turned the tables and was prying information out of her. Man, he was good.
Christy shook her head. ”Why is it so easy to talk to you?” She sighed and, without waiting for an answer, continued, ”Five years ago I was two hundred pounds, I couldn't stop eating, and my life was a wreck. Out of sheer desperation, I went to one of those twelve-step support groups I always said I'd never go to because they were for losers and lunatics. I was at the end of my rope, so when they told me I had to get a sponsor, I did.” Besides, how much worse could her life have gotten? She had hit rock bottom and had lost the ability to negotiate with food. Up until then she'd always been able to somehow restrict her intake or go on weird, crazy diets for some period of time, never mind how short. Not anymore. She'd been done in. Food had won the battle.
It wasn't that she'd gone on huge 30,000-calorie binges, but she'd been just eating constantly, hooked up 24-7 to her own very special IV drip. Every morning she'd sworn to herself that today was the day, but by ten a.m. she was already totally sugared up. She'd been utterly powerless. Depressed and isolated. Spending all her days in a permanent food fog, feeling drowsy and sluggish and so d.a.m.n tired.
The whole extent of her social life had consisted of getting off work as fast as possible to go hide at home and eat. Buying her food, eating it, and sleeping it off had been the highlight of her day. And running after her mother and putting out fires, of course.
Her place had been a mess, but she didn't care. She hadn't even had the strength to face it; she just wanted to sit in front of the television, stuff her face, and s.p.a.ce out.
”Lora, my sponsor, was a seventy-year-old grandma from southern Texas who had temporarily moved to California to be with her son and his kids. She might sound like a sweet woman, but in reality she was a take-no-s.h.i.+t-from-no-sucker drill sergeant from h.e.l.l that always shot straight from the hip.” Lora had been a hundred-pounder, and she was very tough, probably because of her AA background. The second she'd seen how Christy had been living, she'd started ordering her around, bullying her into making changes. First on her list had been ”cleaning” Christy's food; second had been uncluttering her home. Christy had tried the I'll-do-that-tomorrow approach, but Lora had been a tough cookie. She'd say, ”No, you'll do it today, and I'll help you.” And she'd stay around until Christy got off her b.u.t.t and did it. There'd been no way of getting rid of her except by doing what she wanted Christy to do.
”She had me going to meetings every day, making me drive her and other old-timers all over LA for their AA meetings and ours. You should have seen us. I had gangsta rap always playing, hoping they'd prefer to get another ride, but it didn't bother them at all. Not happy with that, Lora decided I had to sign up for some activity because I was too much of a couch potato. She kept nagging me, said she had the afternoons free and that she'd go with me. I thought I'd sign up for whatever Lora would hate doing, and when she stopped coming, I'd drop it too and she wouldn't be able to chew my a.s.s for it. So I chose salsa. I thought she'd never go for it.”
Cole looked intently at her. ”It backfired?”
”Like you wouldn't believe. For the next two frigging years, that seventy-year-old lady dragged me to dance lessons every Wednesday and Friday. She didn't even miss a cla.s.s. I spent two hundred and eight afternoons in a senior community center dancing salsa and mambo. And...let me count...twenty-four Sat.u.r.days in exhibitions in other community centers 'showing off our skills.' d.a.m.n embarra.s.sing.”
Cole barked out a laugh. ”You're kidding, right?”
”I wish. We were always very short on men, but it didn't stop them in the least.”
”You should be a salsa star by now with so much practice.”
”I was the only one there under sixty. They were all lovely, but they kept forgetting the steps, so the teacher kept repeating them. We never went past the basics.” She'd been bored out of her skull, but it'd kept her busy and not eating, which had probably been the main idea to begin with.
”How did you convince Lora to let you stop?”
”Convince Lora? No one convinces Lora of anything. She had to move back to Texas when her younger daughter had a third kid and needed her help. Thank G.o.d for unplanned pregnancies and sloppy birth-control methods. Otherwise I'd still be trapped in that h.e.l.l dancing salsa.”
In spite of everything, Christy loved Lora to pieces. She'd gotten her on a food plan and working on her issues. Without Lora Christy wouldn't have made it. Some days she'd wanted to eat so badly she really didn't know how she'd managed. Well, she knew-it had been Lora and those d.a.m.n opinionated old-timers occupying all her time. And then when she'd reached her goal weight and Christy had discovered she had no clue who she was or what to do with her life if she wasn't either bingeing or dieting, Lora had helped with that too.
”You were as bossy as Lora on the dance floor. Only I was used to being cus.h.i.+oned by her big b.o.o.bs every time the step required me to lean over her chest. And you didn't have those. It threw me off at first.”
”Glad I could somehow enhance your salsa experience.”
That he did. She hadn't gotten what dancing salsa was about until this very night in Cole's arms.
”The hard protuberance digging into my lower back was a novelty too.”
”This protuberance?” he asked, taking her hand to his groin. He was hard again.
She laughed, tugging her hand free. ”Forget about it. I'm dead. And I'm thirsty. And a bit hungry too.”
G.o.d, HE LOVED having her in his bed.
He kissed her. ”Come on, let's go get something to eat.”
She covered herself with the blanket and jumped over the bed.
Cole stood up, buck naked, and extended his hand to her. ”Coming?”
She kept looking around.
”What are you looking for?”
”Something to wear, of course.”
”You don't need anything. Let's go.”
It didn't seem to convince her, because she didn't move, her hands still clutching the sheets.
”I'm not comfortable strolling around your house naked.”
”Why not? I'm not exactly dressed myself.”
Christy didn't answer, stubbornly staring at him with those chocolate eyes, her lips firmly pressed into a tight line. She began wrapping herself in the blanket, which pooled at her feet.
”Fine,” he said, breathing out. ”Take one of my s.h.i.+rts.”
He went to the dresser, picked up a sweats.h.i.+rt, and tossed it to her. She pulled it on and followed him to the kitchen.
The food issue might be under control, but she was far from comfortable with her body. While having s.e.x, with her mind lost to pa.s.sion, she was looser about it, but once the s.e.x-induced fog was gone, she got self-conscious again, trying to cover herself up as if her body wasn't acceptable. As if it was a source of embarra.s.sment.
”This isn't going to fly with me.”
Her chin shot up. ”My lack of nudity, you mean? I don't see why not; I'm accommodating enough while having s.e.x. More than enough, actually. I don't see why going naked or dressed around your house should be important.”
”Because you're hiding from me. h.e.l.l, you're hiding from yourself. Why?” He so didn't get it. She was beautiful, heart-stoppingly so. Yes, she had some marks on her body from the weight, but they were barely noticeable. Besides, he loved a soft body cus.h.i.+oning his. He hated toned-up, hard stomachs and protruding bones. She should never feel ashamed of herself in front of him.
She shrugged. ”You win some; you lose some.”