Page 54 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
I turned my body to face Lincoln, so I could slide my arms around him. The soft thud of his heartbeat helped to calm my nerves. This was the part in my story that ripped me to shreds. The moment I learned how fickle public perception was and how it changed in the blink of an eye.
With one arm still holding me tight, Lincoln rubbed my back with his other hand. The soft, soothing, circular motion was reminiscent of how my mom used to help me fall asleep at night as a child.
“Whitney got held up, so I arrived at the kitchen ahead of her. The amount of food laid out was crazy. Desserts of all kinds, bags of cookies, bread—things we hadn’t eaten in weeks.” I could still see the spread laid out before me. “I started eating and soon couldn’t stop myself. It wassogood. The only weird part, besides the food, was that there were only a handful of lights on when I arrived. It was hard to see anywhere past the kitchen, so I turned on the rest of the lights.”
I felt like I was back in that kitchen—my cheeks stuffed full of food, the chill in the air from the air conditioner blasting, and the absolute silence. Tears flowed down my cheeks, wetting the front of his shirt. When I tried to pull away and wipe at the wet fabric, he stopped me. “It’s only a shirt.”
I sighed. “I was wondering where Whitney was, but the brightness of the camera lights blinded me. I’d just taken a bite out of an ooey, gooey brownie when the camera caught me. I tried to shrug off my impending sense of doom and reminded myself we had an invite.”
I wiped at my face, giving a hiccup. “The coaches and producers were there.” I could picture them pushing in close—so close to me, I tripped as I tried to jump away. I almost landed face first on the floor, but I caught myself. I retreated a few feet away from them cowering in the corner. “They yelled at me, angry that I’d undone all the weeks of hard work. Asking how long my binging and stealing food had been going on. I was stunned. I kept telling them about the note we got. It was agonizing having them question and badger me. At some point, Whitney arrived. I begged her to show them the note.”
“She didn’t have it,” he guessed.
“No, and she tried to explain to them, too. They ignored her and said we were making it up. I had to pack and was sent home immediately, but that wasn’t the worst part. When they aired that episode, they portrayed me in such an awful light.” I shivered and hugged Lincoln closer. Cold had seeped into my body, making my limbs heavy.
“Babe, I’m so sorry.”
I sniffed. “I felt so stupid. Why didn't I question the food being there? Part of me knew it felt off, but I was missing my family, Whitney and I were arguing, and the show was making me feel worse about myself, not better.”
Anger flashed in Lincoln's eyes. “You are a beautiful, trusting soul. That show should be ashamed of how they treated you. I hate that you had to go through that.” He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me tighter.
I snuggled in closer. The pain, and embarrassment from the show had never really lost its hold on me. “It took me years to get myself in a better place. To not let the shame and humiliation of that moment always guide my actions. Other kids were just as awful as the media. Some oinked at me, others laughed when I passed in the halls. It was hard to stay in school and face that each day.”
“Did they ever find out who sent the note?”
“No. The best Whitney and I could come up with was that another team tried to sabotage us with a fake note.”
“That’s awful.”
I nodded. “Whitney was the only one, besides my sisters, that stuck by me at home. By the time she got back from the show, she’d lost a bunch of weight and had started to become friendly with the popular crowd. But she said no matter what, we'd still be friends.”
“She sounds like a good friend.”
“She was. Now, though, I think that experience is the only thing holding our friendship together.” Sadness crept into my heart. I didn't like to give up on a friend.
“Friendships can drift apart as you get older.”
I swiped my hand under my eyes to eliminate the traces of tears that remained. “Yeah, but I never stopped feeling like I owed her something for sticking with me.”
“I wish I could take that awful experience from you.” He ran his hands up and down my arms. “I want you to know how beautiful you are. And while I’ve never seen you as a child, I bet you were adorable.”
I snorted. “You’re delusional.”
“No, I’m not. You’ve had me under your spell since the moment we met.” His voice demanded that I listen. That I believe his words.
I bit my lip.
“You are beautiful,” he repeated. “Every single part of you. Every curve, every dip.” His hand trailed over my hip. Fire skated down the path he’d drawn. “I love being able to hold on to your hips as I’m pounding into you.”
My breath whooshed out of me, his words a balm to my shattered ego.
“I love being able to cup your ass as I lift you closer to me.” His hands lightly grasped my butt. “How your strong thighs tighten around me as you come.”
This was what I needed. Not him telling me how awful he felt that I went through what I did, but this, him telling me the parts of my body that turned him on. It didn't replace the unkind words spoken to me by others about my weight, but it was like those words didn't matter as much anymore.
I shuddered, and my throat grew dry as he caressed my sides before slipping his hands around my waist. His gaze moved up and down my body, his eyes caressing every place they lingered. His apparent desire for me turned me on, made me want to wrap my legs around him and ride him until we both came.
Lincoln lifted me to sit on the counter, and my knees opened, letting him in between my thighs. We were a perfect fit. He tilted my chin up so his lips could capture mine. I pressed into him, wanting more. My arms wound around his neck as I nipped at his lips and ground my lower half against him.
