Animate Me

When she turns around and smoothes the fabric over her bottom, I’m so aroused I can’t focus. I take several steps back until I can sink onto the couch. I pull a throw pillow over the situation in my pants, hoping she doesn’t notice.

“So? What do you think, this or the black one?”

“Are you kidding?” I ask stu

“Really?” she asks like she’s still not sure. “You’re not just saying that?”

“It’s perfect, seriously. It really shows off your great body, and the color’s beautiful on you.” I sigh and smile.

“This is my favorite too. I feel really good in it. But Arnauld said it was unflattering.”

I can feel how tender she is all around her edges, and a powerful desire to protect her roars through me.

“What? He’s nuts.” I say, trying not to just go off on him and get her even more upset. But I’m so angry. It’s like he tries to control her by messing with her head.

“I don’t know why I let him get to me, Nathan. I’m normally so confident, but he’s always pointing out what’s wrong with my body and I guess it’s worn me down.”

“You know, I’m sorry to be selfish, but I’m glad Arnauld’s going to Vegas for that fight. I may not know anything about fashion stuff but I’m a man and I know what I like. If Arnauld can’t see how beautiful and desirable you are in this dress, then he has his head up his ass. I can’t wait to walk in front of all those people with you on my arm.”

“Really?” she asks studying me with her wide eyes.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m so proud to be going with you.” I take a deep breath and hold it, barely believing that speech came out of me. But that’s what Brooke does to me. She inspires me to be more than I think I can be.

She stands there silently and I wait, not sure what to do next. But a moment later I realize that there are tears trailing down her cheek.

Despite the awkwardness of the moment, I sense what she needs. So I get off the couch and step right up to her. Reaching over, I wipe her tears away with my fingers and pull her into my arms.

And although I have no words left that can adequately express her beauty and how she affects me, I hope the way I hold her says everything.

Animate Me / Chapter Twelve / A Very Small Banana

“There’s a very logical explanation for all of this.” ~Velma, Scooby-Dooxi

“Nathan,” she sighs.

I’m rubbing her back, and I feel her relax the more I touch her.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly. “You really do look beautiful you know.”

She looks up and smiles. “Thank you.” She closes her eyes and leans into my chest.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Yeah, I do. Let me take the dress off first.”

She turns and I carefully unzip her, stealing one more glance of her flawless, alabaster skin.

“I’ll be right back,” she assures me.

I settle back down onto the couch. Only a minute later she returns, having changed back into her yoga pants. As she sits down next to me, I realize her expression has changed. There is fierceness under the outer layer of sadness. She leans towards me and puts her hand on my shoulder.

“Promise me something, Nathan.”

“Okay?” I respond, wondering where this is going.

“When you’ve got your girl, promise me you’ll treat her right and support her in feeling good about herself.”

“Of course,” I say quietly. “Isn’t that what you do for someone you love?”

I feel her fingers tighten over my shoulders as if she’s bracing herself for something that’s building inside of her.

“Don’t tell her that her ass is getting big and that she has chunky thighs, even if you think it. Just don’t say it. Okay?”

Stupid ass, Arnold. “I would never do that, Brooke,” I assure her. If you were with me, I would worship every perfect part of you, every day.

She finally relaxes and sags against the cushions, as if the air has gone out of her.

I reach forward and grab my beer off the coffee table, then hand it to her. “Here, I think you could use a drink.”

She turns the bottle in her hands as she continues. “I’ve always believed that a woman should never let a man affect the way she feels about herself. So the irony of what his words do to me…”

“But it’s hard not to be damaged by the things the people you care about say and do.”

She nods slowly. I watch her take several long sips before she sets the beer back on the table.

“He wasn’t always like this, you know,” she says, a faraway look in her eyes. “He can be incredibly charming…he used to constantly tell me how beautiful and talented I was. In the begi

“Yeah, the things you’ve told me make it very hard for me to understand why you’re still with him,” I admit.

“The way things have shifted between us…well, it happened so gradually that it’s taken a while to realize the extent of it.”

I look at her, noting her sad expression. She must still care about him.

“How have things shifted?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.

“He’s taught me so much about the business, and has given me opportunities no one else would’ve so soon in my career. But it’s almost like the more confident and successful I become, the more critical he is.”

“Do you know why he’s like that?”

“Maybe he feels threatened. Maybe he was more comfortable when I looked up to him and was less of an equal. But the biggest turning point was when he demanded that I move in with him, and for us to be exclusive with each other.”

I’m shocked and my stomach sinks, as I grip the edge of the couch. “He did? When was that?”

I don’t know whether to be sick about the fact that he wanted more with her, or happy that she apparently turned him down.

She nods slowly. “Late last year. I’d gone out with this guy he apparently had issues with, and in a drunken tirade he proclaimed that our open relationship was over and that it was time to move in with him. Among many other issues, I was so pissed that his change of heart was prompted by jealousy and not by any desire to really develop our relationship further. Even if I had wanted more of a commitment, I knew he didn’t really mean it. I didn’t trust his intentions and refusing him is what started all the passive aggressive behavior. I think it made him crazy that he couldn’t control me. So he’d do things like promote me, then criticize my work…tell me he loved my body one week, then buy me a gym membership the next.”

“That’s awful,” I say quietly.

“Honestly, it wasn’t until I met you, and the way you made me feel so special and appreciated, that I realized how much had changed.”

As glad as I am to know that I’ve helped her, I’m still really concerned about her situation.

“Can you tell me what he said to you specifically to make you so upset when you tried on the dress?” I ask carefully, each word measured.

She looks away and her expression gets angry again. “He’s pushing me to get lipo. He insists on paying for it so he doesn’t understand why I won’t do it.”

“Liposuction?” I ask alarmed. “But your body’s so beautiful, Brooke. Where would you possibly have lipo? Why?”

“My hips, thighs and ass,” she explains. “He wants me to look like one of those ski

“What, no!” I respond alarmed. “Show me what he’s talking about.”

She gets off the couch and stands in front of me. But then she seems to have a second thought, and crawls onto my lap so that she’s straddling my knees, facing me. “Starting here,” she says quietly, as she takes my hands and runs them along the smooth black Lycra covering her i