Page 47 of Love to Hate You
Without them, why bother?
Unless Ashley secretly binges when no one is looking, I have no idea how she sustains herself. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her put anything other than a vegetable in her mouth. I think we’ve just solved the riddle as to why she’s so cranky all the time.
The girl is hangry. Someone needs to force feed her a burger, fries, and milkshake.
The image of pinning Ashley to the ground and stuffing food in her piehole probably shouldn’t give me so much pleasure, but it does.
As penance for my nasty thoughts, I try to draw her out. I may not like her, but she’s Noah’s girlfriend and they’ve been going strong now for six months. My hopes of them breaking up have dwindled. “How’s your salad, Ashley?”
She’s barely made a dent in it.
Girls who don’t eat...I’ll never understand them.
When I’m hungry, I eat. Most of the time, I try to make healthy choices. The whole reason I haul my butt out of bed at seven in the morning a couple times a week to go for a three-mile run is because I enjoy mowing a burger every so often, and that is one pleasure I’m unwilling to deny myself.
Noah’s girlfriend eyes my half-demolished burger with an odd mixture of revulsion and desire as I bring it to my lips again. “It’s amazing.”
That answer seems like something of an oversell, but whatever.
She takes her time spearing a cucumber with her fork. “You’re lucky that you don’t have to watch your weight.”
Huh? What does she mean by that?
I frown. “I watch what I eat.” Mostly.
“Sure,” Noah pipes up. “You watch it right before it goes into your mouth.”
I give him a quelling look. “You’re hilarious.” Ignoring my cousin, I turn back to his girlfriend. “Life is about striking a balance and that’s what I try to do.”
Ashley chews the slice of cucumber methodically before swallowing. It’s a laborious process. “I really love that about you.”
My eyes widen.
Holy crap, did I hear her correctly? It almost sounded like she gave me a compliment. I would have never believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own two ears. I’m tempted to ask her to repeat what she just said for the sole purpose of watching the words fall from her lips one more time.
It feels like my entire world is shifting.
First Carter and now Ashley?
Is it possible that I’ve misjudged Noah’s girlfriend?
“Wow, thanks!” It’s teasingly that I quip, “Maybe I should consider a career in modeling.” I’m joking, of course. I’m no skinny-minny. And I’m fine with that. Feeling more at ease, I take another bite of my burger.
She nods enthusiastically. “Plus-sized modeling has become increasingly more popular. If you’re interested, I could pass along my agent’s information.” She eyes me critically. “I think you would do really well with that demographic.”
What the hell did she just say?
I make the mistake of inhaling a sharp breath which lodges the chewed burger in my throat. And then I can’t breathe. I’m choking. Eyes widening, I go into full-fledged panic mode.
I’m going to die.
Death by masticated meat.
My life flashes before my eyes.
I pound my fist on the table and then against my chest, but it does no good. Three sets of eyes stare in horror before Carter comes to life, jumping up from his chair. The motion sends it flying backward. All of a sudden, I’m hauled from the seat. He wraps his arms around my chest and makes a fist, pressing it sharply between my rib cage. He repeats the motion before the food trapped in my throat pops free and onto the table.
My legs give out and I slump in Carter’s arms. They band around me as emotion hits me all at once. I know it’s stupid to say, but Carter just saved my life. I could have choked to death on a Devon’s burger minus the onions and Ashley would have sat there and picked at her salad. Tears well in my eyes before streaking down my face.