Page 13 of The Breakup

He stared at me and said with a slow, sexy drawl, “I want a cream filled.”

“Oh!” I wasn’t even sure if I had gotten a cream-filled one. I scanned the box, flustered. Then my cheeks burned when I realized he had just meant it as a sexual innuendo. He probably didn’t even want a dang doughnut. But I snagged the Boston cream out of the box and held it out to him. “Here you go.”

Christian took it from me and bit into it, taking nearly half the pastry into his mouth. “Mmm. Thanks.”

He wasn’t doing anything unusual, but for some reason I felt hot all over. I fanned myself. “Is it warm in here?”

“Yes, sorry. No air-conditioning.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to put a shirt on?” I was both horrified and intrigued by that. I didn’t want to see him shirtless. Yet I couldn’t stop looking at his chest.

“That’s exactly what it means. Pretend we’re at the beach. Or maybe locked in a closet together.”

Not something I wanted to picture at all. No room to move. Christian close to me. Our bodies brushing.

I crossed my legs tightly and chose a doughnut covered in sprinkles. I took a minuscule bite, so tiny it almost wasn’t worth it. But I was afraid of it, in a weird way. I had trained myself to think of sweets and fat and carbs as the enemy. Sugar exploded in my mouth. I closed my eyes, overcome with pleasure. “Holy moly, that tastes so good. Oh my God.” I took another, bigger bite.

“You haven’t had a doughnut in a while?” he asked, sitting down on a chair next to the couch and sliding back into it, his legs spread.

“It’s been eleven years since I ate a doughnut. It’s like a unicorn to me at this point. They don’t exist.” The feeling that swept over me was legitimate euphoria. I dipped my tongue inside the doughnut to scrape away a huge blob of buttercream icing. It actually gave me goosebumps and I sighed in ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” he asked. “Or is that the game? You know it and you’re trying to drive me crazy. Because if that’s what it is, it’s working.”

Shocked, I shook my head. Beautiful, attractive, thin, sure. I knew I was those things. But sexy? No. I never felt sexy. Sexy was for women who knew how to let down their guard and get messy and dirty. That wasn’t me. Ever. “I wasn’t trying to do anything. I just really forgot how good doughnuts taste.”

“That’s kind of insane, you know. Eleven years?” He took a sip of his wine and swished it around like it was mouthwash. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

I was too busy chewing another mouthful to respond.

“So, besides wanting an excuse to eat a doughnut in a judgment-free zone, can I ask why you’re here?”

This was the tricky part. How did I express myself without sounding totally pathetic? “Is this a judgment-free zone?” I asked to stall and gauge his receptiveness.

“Yes.” Christian nodded. He finished off his wine, watching me as he did. “And I think you picked me because you know that. Look around you. Nothing here to be pretentious about. Local loser and all that.”

My pleasure was interrupted by the shame of those words. “I’m sorry. I still can’t believe I said that. Honestly, I’m a nice person.” I wanted everyone around me to be happy, to feel special—I’ve always been this way. I couldn’t believe I had taken out my insecurity on Christian in such an ugly way when I was drunk.

“Water under the bridge, Bella. Doesn’t mean I won’t give you shit about it when I can though.” He grinned and leaned forward, picked up a doughnut with powdered sugar dusted over the top. “Here. You know you want it.”

I did. My mouth watered. I fought with myself. One was fine, but two? Like how disgusting would that be? But he was smiling at me and it wasn’t a lecherous smile. It was oddly sweet. Like he thought I was cute. I took it and bit it, feeling a little sullen and a lot guilty.

“Don’t feel guilty,” he said, as if he could read my thoughts. “You’re too skinny anyway.”

That had me dropping the doughnut. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not emaciated.” I was mortified. I worked hard to be thin and in shape. Really hard. To hear that he thought I was unattractive was just absolutely humiliating. I stood up quickly. “I should go.”

“What?” He stood up too and grabbed my arm. “Why? Why did that upset you?”

I forced myself to look at him. “It’s not a big deal.” Just that my fiancé apparently thought I was unattractive and now clearly this random guy did too. “I just think I made a mistake in coming here.”

I wasn’t even sure what the heck I was doing anymore. It was a new sensation for me and I hated it. I had never felt so unsure of myself.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” he said. “And then we can decide if it was a mistake or not.”

I stopped to consider his words. Normally, I was tenacious in getting what I wanted. I had inherited that from my mother. And I was here already anyway.

So I forced my chin up and told him the truth. “I came here to ask you to help me be better at sex.”

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