Curvy Girls Can’t Date Soldiers by Kelsie Stelting

Fifty-Two

Apollo

She turnedher back to me and started walking away, and such a feeling of loss overwhelmed me, it almost brought me to my knees.

I couldn’t let her go.

Couldn’t let her leave thinking that we could never have made it work.

Because I still wanted to.

“Wait,” I said, reaching to take her hand.

It slipped into mine for what I realized was the first time. Her skin was soft. Supple. And it sent a shot of lightning straight to my gut—just that contact with her fingertips.

She turned toward me, her black eyes guarded, and I hated that I had been one of the people to make her feel like she needed to protect herself.

“Why?” I asked. “Why did you lie to me for so long?” I needed to know as much as I needed air.

She didn’t pull her hand away from mine, something I was consciously aware of as her lips came together to form a word, then gave up. She relaxed them and tried again. “Because I knew I would never have a chance with you.”

“Why?” I repeated, anger tightening the muscles in my jaw. How could she decide our fate without even giving me a chance?

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Why would a guy like me never fall for a girl like you? Why would it never work?”

Her chest heaved with a derisive laugh. “Are you delirious?” She took her hand from mine, and the absence nearly took me down. My hand was cold now, without hers, and I realized if I never held her hand again, something would always be missing.

She gestured at me, waving her hands wildly. “Look at you! You’re practically the poster boy for hot soldier, and I’m...” She blinked quickly, shaking her head. “Unique.” She spat it like it was something dirty. Something to be ashamed of.

And I recognized the word. From what those mean girls said about her in yearbook.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said, stepping forward.

She stepped backward, bumping against the wall, but I stayed close. Her breath caught; I saw it in the hitch of her full chest.

Her eyes flitted from mine to my mouth, her breathing shallow. “It is a bad thing.”

I shook my head, putting my hand on the wall by her shoulder. “It’s the best damn thing there is, Nadira.” My muscles tightened like my body wanted to defend her from even the memory of her bullies. From the mean voice inside her head that lied to her daily. “There is no one like you. You’re beautiful.”

Her lips parted, her eyes searching mine, full of disbelief.

“I’ll say it again if you don’t believe me,” I growled. I was tired of people acting like Nadira was less-than because of her size. Especially her. Since when did a number on a scale or clothing tag take away from someone’s value. From their worth? As far as I was concerned, Nadira’s curves were one of the sexiest things about her. And standing this close, there were plenty of reasons I was attracted to her. “You deserve to know how beautiful you are.”

She lifted her chin, defiant, stubborn as always. “Tell me then. What’s so beautiful about me? Is it the way my thighs rub together when I walk? Or how about the fact I could fit a whole extra tooth between my front two teeth? Or how about my skin? Huh? I have to get two colors of foundation like a damn clown.”

I lifted my fingers to her mouth, silencing her. “Can you be quiet for one second? You’re the most stubborn person I know!”

Her lips pursed together under my fingers, making the muscles in my stomach tighten, but I kept my focus on her. On the way she both infuriated and intrigued me more than anyone else I knew.

“You don’t like your thighs?” I asked, dropping my fingers to her chin, lifting it up so I could see her eyes more clearly.

She shook her head.

I trailed my finger to her hips and felt her suppress a shiver under my touch. “I love your thighs,” I breathed.

She closed her eyes, blinking slowly.

“And your hair?” I said. “Do you like that?”

“No,” she breathed.

I reached to the base of her neck, working my fingers through the tangle of curls. “I want to get my fingers caught in here when I kiss you.”

Her breath came in a gasp, but my brave girl looked up at me defiantly. “And my skin?” she demanded.

I brought my fingers from her hair, tracing my thumb over the spots on her cheek and bringing it to her lip, peeling it free of her teeth. “Is incredible.”

She let out a shaky breath.

I could practically feel her defenses crumbling. “So tell me again why we can’t be together?”

“Because we’re going to live too far away,” she said, as if reminding herself. “Why would you want to date someone you’d only get to see twice a year?”

“Why would you want to date someone who might get deployed for an entire year and not come back?”

She didn’t have an answer. But I did.

“I’d date you because I like you, Nadira. Not the person you thought I wanted you to be. Can’t you see that?”

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Then stop counting yourself out of something before it even has a chance to start.”

Her lips trembled, and I just wanted to kiss them, to still them and make the tears go away.

“Nadira,” I breathed.

She closed her eyes at the sound of her name and asked, “What about the lie? You said it made me ugly.”

My chest physically ached at the reminder of what she’d done to me. I’d always been my real self with her, telling her things I hardly told anyone else. “I said that because I was hurt,” I admitted, waiting until she opened those beautiful black orbs to me. “But watching you walk away again, would hurt even more.”

She bit her lip, and when she spoke, her voice broke. “I don’t know what to do.”

My eyes flicked from hers to her perfectly full lips. “I have an idea.”