The Embrace by Vivian Wood

11

Istand in the bedroom of Callum's luxury apartment, my mouth twisting with disappointment. I try to pull my jeans a little tighter, practically cutting off my circulation to button them. I manage to do up the button but they are so tight that I feel like I have a little gut. Making a frustrated sound, I walk into the bathroom and pull up my shirt, checking myself out in the full-length mirror.

Yup. That's it. I have a gut.

“What the fuck?” I wonder aloud.

I've never had a gut. And suddenly I have a little pooch right here. I push my stomach out and make my gut exaggerated. Not that it really needs it…

“It's gotta be the fucking bagels,” I mutter.

Unbuttoning my jeans, I strip them off and replace them with my friendly black cotton leggings, as stretchy as you please. Then I storm into the kitchen, rip open the freezer, and pull out the bag of leftover bagels. This is the only thing that I can think of that has changed recently.

I've been sneaking a little piece of bagel and a little bit of cream cheese every now and then ever since Calum brought them home. But no more. I toss the bag in the trash and then toss the trash bag into the wall chute in the laundry room where the trash usually goes.

I didn't think that I was doing so much damage to my petite figure by eating a bagel every once in a while. But it's apparent that I have.

I head to the ballet shortly after that, still steaming over my weight. Add in the fact that Ella still isn't there during my rehearsal and it all adds up to a pretty crummy day all around. I work out hard but when I am done, I’m so ravenous that I stop at the kebab cart outside of the NYB.

Not the healthiest choice, certainly. But a fresh piping hot chicken kebab really hits the spot on my ride back from work.

When I get home, I find Calum sipping his whiskey in his office. I avoid him entirely because I'm in such a bad mood. There's nothing that Calum could do or say to lighten it.

Except he sees me and follows me into the bedroom. He seems oblivious to my mood which is lucky for him. When I am changing, he slips in the walk in closet door behind me and ogles me. I shoot a glare at him.

“I’m warning you,” I say. “I had the worst day. So I am not responsible for my actions if I chew you out.”

Calum’s lips twitch. He doesn't listen, of course. Instead he corners me, holding his big arms out until I back up against the wall. He is just shy of pressing his whole body up against mine, the barest inch from full body contact. He cocks an eyebrow and I wrinkle my nose.

“Must you?” I ask. “I still haven’t even showered.”

He looks at me with the same humor reflected in his eyes as in his facial expression. “Now that you said so, I think I must.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. He takes that for a sign of my giving in and presses his hard body up against my small, soft one. He cups my cheek and turns my face up to him, where his lips are waiting for mine. I sigh into the kiss but my body does relax into his. It's more of a reflex than anything else but I'm glad of it.

He molds his hands over my torso and sighs.

“Have I told you lately that I like the shape of you? I just love this…”

He draws his hands down my arms and rib cage to my hips, indicating my body.

My cheeks instantly flood with heat. “My shape? If anything, I am getting fat. Don't encourage me.”

His mouth twitches with humor. “Whatever you're doing, I like it. You seem a little less like you're going to blow away if a strong breeze starts to blow.”

My expression contorts and I pull out of his arms, hurt by his words. “I just have to eat better. Work out a little more. Then I'll be back in fighting shape.”

“Are you even listening to me right now? Listen, you know that I am all for the athlete body. You know that I know that ballerinas run thinner than most people. I would say that I am pretty much an expert, wouldn’t you?”

Feeling insecure, I pull on a dark oversized coat. “I think you are a little biased. I think you have let love blind you to the truth. And the truth is, I’m fat.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “You are tougher on yourself than you need to be. This career lends itself to disordered eating…”

“I can only be a ballerina for a few short years. And that's if I don't get hurt. I have worked all my life to get to this very point. And I'm not about to let a few bagels stand between me and being successful.”

Calum sighs. “I don't like it when you start getting bony. I worry about you.”

“And I worry about being judged by my looks. It's not just a given that I will excel at this job. It’s especially not obvious that I am just so talented that critics will overlook my physical flaws. Quite the opposite, actually.”

He lifts single shoulder in a shrug. “I’m just saying that it's not all about your weight. You have a lot more to offer than being thin as a rail.”

“Yes, well. You should really save this conversation for years from now. When I am getting really fat.”

His lips twitch. “Are you planning on getting pregnant and popping out half a dozen babies or something?”

I give him a sharp glare. “You make it sound like pregnancy is bad.”

Calum spreads his hands wide and makes a funny expression with his face. “It’s not good. Not if you don't want kids. Children are great for other people, but not a part of my life plan.”

I heave a frustrated sigh. “I can't have this argument with you right now. Honestly.”

He takes the last couple of steps between us, his gaze heavy upon mine. I bring up my hands to push at his chest but he traps them and pulls me against him. I can feel the hard ridges of his body as he dominates me with his size.

“Calum… I'm really not in the mood…”

He bends his head down, his lips parting. Those soft lips find the pulse point at my neck and touch it gently. My eyes start to close and I exhale softly. He sucks at that pulse point and my heart starts racing. It may be against my will, but my body has a different opinion.

Even as he turns my lips up to his and kisses me, his words reverberate in my head. I kiss him back, but I'm distracted. And Calum is attuned enough to me to be able to tell.

“What?” he murmurs.

I pull back, looking up at his gorgeous face. “What if I decide that I want to have children? Your children.”

He squints at me. “We don't have to decide today. You have at least ten years before you have to make a decision like that.”

My mouth pulls down into a frown. I can't help but feel as if Calum is pushing off this conversation, already assured that I won't be upset when he finally tells me no. I take my time and figure out exactly what it is I'm trying to say.

“That may be years from now. But we don't know what's going happen. We’re not psychic. Things could change. I just… I want to know that there is a possibility sometime in the future.”

He grabs my hand where it lies on his chest and pulls it up to his mouth, kissing my palm. “There is no point in talking about it now. As you say, we don't have the ability to see the future. If the time comes that we have to have this conversation again, will have it. Right now, all I want is to bend you over this bed and fuck you like there is no tomorrow. That's all I can think about.”

He turns me around and walks me backwards towards the bed. I look up at him, my arms going around his neck. When he kisses me and pushes me back onto the bed, I am more than willing. But that doesn't stop my mind from going a million miles an hour, over and over the same track.

He doesn't want kids. In my heart of hearts, I know that I will want them eventually.

What does that spell for us and our relationship in the future?

I wish I had a better idea.