Bigger Is Better: Crazy in Love (3 page)

Chapter Four

No Sex in the City

    
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
The sound of the alarm on my cellphone wakes me up. I press the dismiss button to stop the annoying sound from persisting. My king-size bed feels so comfy right now and I just don’t want to get up. I lift my head from my pillow and I swear it is like some little people are banging a thousand hammers inside my cranium.

     I glance over at the empty bottle of Jack Daniels that I ingested last night.

     “Ugh, why did I drink all of that?” I question myself with complete regret. I know that I am a lightweight. Hell one can of beer will have me tipsy. I knew better than to drink
the whole bottle
.

    
Now I have to suffer the consequences. I can’t miss my class because I have a very important assessment to take.

     I stand up. In my
groggy state, it feels as if I am stumbling across the floor as opposed of walking.

     I step inside my walk in closet and
snatch a pair of skinny jeans from the shelf within my closet— yes us fat girls do wear skinny jeans and look quite good in them in fact, a fuchsia V-neck t-shirt and my fuchsia cardigan. Although I love being in the well air conditioned building to escape the sweltering heat, it is like a glacier has been brought from the North Pole

then
placed in my Liberal Arts class.

     I take a quick
shower. I straighten my long dense curly dark auburn colored hair and put on my clothes. I grab my tote bag containing my books, then I hurricane out of the door to my truck.

    
The last thing I want to be is late.

    
My professor is a pain in the ass. He finds utter enjoyment in making a mockery out of those who are late to his class.

     I
arrive at Emory University in no time. I hurry to my class and began taking the assessment.

     Two hours later, I am finally done with the arduous test. Surprisingly, I believe I did pretty well. I knew most of the answers but I always get super nervous before I am about to take any test.
I exit the building and the heat smacks me in the face.

     “Free at last.” I exclaim so grateful to be done with the assessment. I remove my cardigan. This V-neck t-shirt has my tits out for the world to see. It is so difficult trying to find things to conceal my enormous heavy bosom.
I have more than enough cleavage to go around. I always tell Taryn and Casha that they can borrow some of my tits whenever they like. Not that they need it. Taryn has a hell of a rack of her own. Casha always tells me she likes her double D’s but would gladly give up some of her massive ass any day.

    
I love my best friends. I always feel comfortable with them. They aren’t necessarily “big girls” but they do understand the struggles that I face— and they always

have
my back.

    
I look down at my watch to check the time. It is now 9:47am. I glance back up and before I can move over I walk right into this guy. The textbooks that I am holding go tumbling out of my hands. I lean over to pick the books up. However, the polite stranger retrieves my items before I have the chance to.

     “Here you go.” The man says with a genuine smile. He hands me the textbooks never taking his eyes off of me.

     “Thanks, I apologize I wasn’t looking.” I tell him with sincerity.

     “I am such a klutz.” I think gripping the hefty books trying not to
drop them.

    
“No problem. It happens.” The guy replies with his deep amber colored eyes surveying me up and down.

    
Good gracious he is smoking hot.
He has short chocolate brown hair. He adorns a beard that appears as if he hasn’t shaven in over a week. But his beard doesn’t look very unkempt; it gives him a certain sex appeal. He has on a white wife beater and some stonewash 501 Levi Jeans with some tan Timberland work boots.

    
He resembles the gorgeous actor, Jay Ryan from one of The CW channel top rated shows, “Beauty and The Beast”.

     I do my best to look away. Nevertheless, my eyes stay fixated on his ripping
muscles that are practically busting out of the wife beater.

    
I hope I am not drooling.

     “Dear God, please don’t let me be drooling.” I pray as I
delight in such a strikingly attractive specimen. The last thing I want to do is look like a desperate, man hungry big girl.

     “Hello, are you listening.” The man moves his
right hand side to side diverting my attention to his hand gesturing.

     I snap out of my bout of brain freeze due to hunk hotness overload.

     “Oh, what were you saying?” I ask trying hard to focus.

     “I said that, I have never seen you around
campus before. What year are you?” He questions waiting for me to respond.

     “I am a junior. I am in the Bachelors Program.” I answer him.
When I lost my grandmother, I was unable to start school on time, which made me a year behind. Hence the reason I am now taking summer classes.

     “Oh, I am a senior. Nice to meet you…”
The could be, should be male model states.

     “My name is Star
Moore and you are?” I ask softly. I am getting a bit nervous and I don’t have a clue why. Usually, I am not this flustered over a guy I barely even know, but he has me all discombobulated.

 
   “My name is Stone Henderson. Nice to meet you Ms. or Mrs. Moore.” He asks then peeks down at my left hand.

    
“It is Ms. and I am single.” I respond.

     “
Translation, No Sex in the City.” I think.

    
“Oh, nice to know.” Stone tells me in what seems to be a flirtatious manner. Then he takes the books out of my hand right before they begin to fall as I drop them
again.

     “Where are you parked? Let me walk you to your car. I don’t want you to have to walk and hold your books at the same time.” Stone states in jest.

     “Oh so you have jokes.” I quip showcasing my signature Ms. America smile and side eyes.

     “No, I just wouldn’t want
such a beautiful woman as yourself carrying these heavy books, when I can carry them for you.” Stone says with his captivating eyes somewhat entrancing me.

    
“What-t-t? Did he just refer to me as beautiful?” I must be hearing things.

    
I have been told more times than I can count that I have such a pretty face as if my body is inadequate. So it still catches me off guard when a man calls me
beautiful
.

    
Then reality sets in, I know his kind all too well. They butter you up with compliments. I know how they think.

     “Yeah, all I have to do is tell her she is pretty a couple of times.” They proclaim with arrogance.

      When they are really trying to get you in the bed they use the B word— Beautiful.

    
This time I refuse to fall for the trickery and deception. I have my heart to protect. Yet, my hormones are raging mimicking category 5 hurricane winds. Instead of being downright rude, I will let him walk me to my car— but that is all he will be doing.    

    
“My car is over there.” I tell him as I point to the parking lot the truck is located in. We reach the truck. I open the driver’s side door, hop up into the truck, lean over and place the books into the passenger seat. I can practically feel Stone watching me. I turn around and catch Stone viewing my curves with lust in his eyes. 

     I have seen that look by plenty of men. Many of which would never make me theirs, they just wanted to
fuck me and then move on to their next victim.

     As much as Stone is making my hormones rage, I have my guard up and I
refuse to be played. Stone fits the description of the usual “fuck’em and leave’em” jerkoff to exact specifications.

     “I guess I will see you around.” I state then look at my watch.

     “Damn, I have to get going. I am going to be late for my shift at the diner.” I state inwardly.

     “
Yes, I will see you around.” Stone tells me. I step into the truck and he shuts my door behind me.

     I turn the ignition and wave at him as I drive off.

     Maybe he is different. He didn’t try to get my number or press up on me. He probably was just being nice. I probably was overthinking.

     “Heck, he probably doesn’t even like big girls.” I think to myself and laugh aloud.

     Brent surely did a number on me. I hate when I overanalyze every little thing in regards to guys. The sad part about it all is, I don’t even think Brent recognizes just how much he hurt me and how much damage he has caused.

    
What is even worse, I honestly believe he wouldn’t care if he did.

Chapter Five

Take
a Ride on the Wild Side

9 Hours Later

    
I finished my shift at the diner. Now, I can tackle my favorite work related task. Reading and answering the questions submitted for my weekly column. I always try to guess who the person is that submitted the question since the questions are done anonymously.

     I
place my MacBook Pro on my counter height dining table. I sign on my company’s email account. Afterwards, I open the first email.

From: Naughty Housewife

To:
[email protected]

Date: Monday, Jun 9, 2014 at 12:27 PM

Subject: Desperate For Advice Housewife

Dear Star,

I have
a major conundrum. I really need some advice on this. I have been with my husband for quite a while. I have been attracted to him since we were in middle school. I waited for the day when he would see how much I desired him. I envisioned the day that we would make love. Then finally we did, and it was… not really what I expected. Although he is dynamite in bed, no one has been able to compare to the man I lost my virginity too. So much so, that I have been having an affair with this man during the entire duration of my husband and I courtship and marriage. I really don’t want to hurt my husband. I had no intention of being a cheating wife. When I was a little girl, I always saw myself being my husband’s trophy wife but I didn’t just want to sit and look pretty. I wanted to ensure that our home would always be taken care of as well. I have been engaging in this torrid secret love affair for a very long time. I love my husband. But I don’t think I am in love with my husband. He just doesn’t ignite that burning desire in me like my secret lover does. One other thing is my secret lover isn’t financially stable. On the other hand, my husband is. I am not a gold digger but I am accustomed to being taken care of a certain way. However, my secret lover just landed a major contract within his field and he will be expanding his company in a couple of months which means he will be able to provide for me. He always told me that he would take care of me and that he wanted to marry me when the time is right. Now the time is right, but I am already married to someone else. Star, what do you think I should do? Do you think I should stay with my husband and have an unhappily ever after? Or do you think I should follow my heart and go with the man that knocks my socks off on a daily?

P.S. One thing I failed to
mention is the two guys are best friends.

Sincerely,

Mrs.
I Want My Cake & Eat It Too

    “Wow, this is one scandalous woman!” I state aloud to myself. I can’t believe it. I have seen all types of scenarios on the “Love Notes” but this is one of the top situations. She has been cheating on her husband the entire time they were dating and married.

     “Damn, she is bold and
deceptive
. Hmm, who could she be?” I think dying to know who the adulterous woman is. I take a sip of my super sweet homemade strawberry milkshake that I made just a few minutes earlier.

     I
prepare to respond to the email. I try to find the right words to say to help guide this woman with her complicated situation.

To: [email protected]

From
:Star Moore

Date
: Wednesday, Jun 11, 2014 at 7:45 PM

Subject: Re:
Desperate For Advice Housewife

Dear Mrs. I Want My Cake & Eat It Too,

You do have quite the conundrum.
I am going to do my best to give you some advice to utilize that will help you make the best decision for yourself. First and foremost, your happiness is very important. However, when we become adults assuming that you are an adult and not a teenager, there are some things that we have to sacrifice to ensure that what we are doing isn’t hurting or affecting the happiness of others. From what you stated, your husband is not a really bad guy. I mean you did say that you love him, although I know that you aren’t in love with him. Now on to the other guy... You have to ask yourself, is it really the thrill of being with someone that you couldn’t fully have and the tantalizing sex or is it that you are truly, utterly, madly and passionately in love with this person that is causes a blaze of fire within you. Sometimes, we overlook what he have because we always think the grass is greener on the other side. Sometimes, the grass is indeed better. Many times it is not. There is also some other factors you have to consider that you didn’t mention. Are there children involved that maybe drastically affected by the choice you choose to make. Young kids especially have a hard time transitioning and older kids may resent you for leaving daddy to be with “Uncle Whomever”. You are in a sticky situation because the man you want to be with, is your husband’s best friend. What you do lies in the two questions that you actually proposed. Are you going to make the decision to stay with your husband and have an unhappily ever after? Or are you going to follow your heart and go with the man that knocks your socks off on a daily? The choice is up to you. Just try to make sure that you are making the best one for ALL parties involved. However, at the end of the day, you have to live with the decision you make for the rest of YOUR life.

Love Conquers All,

Star Moore

   I take another sip of my creamy milkshake. Suddenly, I hear a knock at the door. I look through the glass panes encased in my door to see my two best friends smiling faces.

     I open the door with glee because I haven’t seen either of them in the past two weeks. I have been so busy with school and work that I haven’t had any time to spend with Taryn and
Casha.

    
“Oh no this will not due.” Taryn states scrutinizing my appearance as she steps inside my foyer.

     “You need to take off those
drabby clothes. Find one of those hooker style dresses you keep in the back of your closet. Curl your hair and get prepared to go out with Casha and I.” Taryn commands as she rolls her neck. She has always been the bossy one out of the three of us. She is two years older than Casha and me.

     “I am working right now. I am answering the Love Notes. I don’t have time to go out.” I retort hoping that my work excuse make them give me a break this one time.

     “You have to make time. We aren’t letting you off the hook this time Star. We are having a girl’s night out.” Casha gangs up on me too. She usually has my back when I use the work excuse.

     “All right, I will go.” I give in to their
girl’s night out invitation— well girl’s night out ritual.

     We usually go out
once a week. Actually I was the one who started the ritual so that we can connect with each other. Taryn just got married last year and Casha is engaged to be married. They promised me that they would go out with me once a week and not become old married hags who never spend any time with their friends. I really believe they use the girl’s night out as a mating call for me, since I am the only single one out of us three.

     “Wait, where are we going?” I inquire wondering what establishment they have in mind. I know from their ensembles that we aren’t going out to eat.

     “There is this new dive bar and grille called, “Barcode” in Atlanta that just opened up. I heard that all the hot guys go there. Tonight is Wild Out Wednesday.” Taryn answers pushing me towards my bedroom closet.  

     “You
two know I don’t do dive bars. The last time we went to one, a fight broke out and I got drenched in beer— and almost got hit in the head with a bottle. I think I will pass.” I tell them in serious tone.

    
I am not in the mood to have to fight off drunken guys who only want to cause a ruckus.

     “Star, this
dive bar is different trust me. It has a upscale twist, a cozy fireside lounge, great music and did I mention the hot guys.
”
Taryn states placing an emphasis on
hot guys
. She knows I have a sweet tooth and male eye candy is my weakness.

    
I get dressed with haste. Casha applies my makeup and does my hair. Casha and Taryn always tells me that I should be a plus-size supermodel.

    
They aren’t the first to tell me that. I much prefer

being
behind the scenes than in front of a camera.

    
Casha applies the finishing touches. I give myself a

quick
glance in the mirror before walking out of my front door. Taryn convinced me to wear this short cobalt blue bodycon dress I am wearing. I feel so sexy and attractive in this dress. I brought it in on a whim. The five inch silver stiletto heels lace up my ankle showcasing my calves and luscious legs.

    
I told myself that this year, I was going to take more fashion risks and wear what
I like
. No matter if society says big girls should or should not wear it. It feels exhilarating not caring about what anyone thinks about me for once.

    We depart from my house. We get in
to Taryn’s new Bentley convertible that Wes, her NFL husband, just brought her. She has tried to hook me up with one of his friends a couple of times but I told her I wasn’t ready to date.

     I think that a part of me still wanted Brent. A part of me wanted him to
come running back to me. Pleading for my love again— I know that isn’t happening. After what occurred yesterday, I don’t even want him too. I am over him and damn it feels so good.

    We reach Barcode. The parking lot is jammed pack and the music is blaring from within the bar.

     As soon as we step out of the car, I can tell that this is not the typical watering hole. Th
ere is definitely a glaring difference in this dive bar and the ones we normally frequent.

     We enter Barcode and make our way to the bar.

Brent’s heavy metal band named M7, song “Bittersweet

Memories” comes on.

     Holy hell, I can’t escape my ex. Even in this large metropolis.

     Luckily, I see the bartender coming over to get our drink order
s distracting me from the sound of Brent’s voice.

     “What would you girls like?” The buff blond bartender asks
with his eyes glued on my tits.

     “I would like an Apple Martini.” Taryn responds.

     “I want a rum and coke.” Casha tells him flirting with her eyes. She is a master at the laws of attraction. I told her that her and her fiancé are made for each other because they both are very flirtatious and highly sexual.

    
“I would like a virgin strawberry daiquiri please.” I tell the bartender bopping my head to Linkin Park’s “Burn It Down” song that just started to blast through the speakers.

   
“Virgins aren’t allowed here.” The other bartender states fixing drinks for some patrons at the other end of the bar. The bartender’s back is facing us. He turns around. I am surprised to see that it is Stone.

     “Stone, what are you doing here?”
I ask glad to see him.

     “I work here.” Stone replies walking towards me. I feel my heartbeat thumping excitedly in my chest.

     The bartender hands us our drinks. Before I can pick

mine
up, Stone snatches it away from me.

     “What are you doing Mr. Bartender?” I quip eyeing

Stone sternly with a smirk.

    
“I told you v
irgins aren’t allowed here
.” Stone teases me moving the neon blue cocktail glass toward me then seizing it as I reach for it.

     “You know what I think
. I am going to find your boss and speak to him about this.” I joke. I act as if I am going to tread off, when Stone comes from behind the bar.

     He grabs me by the waist and
lures me closer into his orbit. All I can do is gasp as he squeezes my body with aggressive tenderness. His raw masculinity is arousing and makes me feel incredibly open. 

    
I swear it feels as if no one else is in the bar but us.

    
My breasts are pressed against his fiery skin and virile chest. My blood booms through my veins as a burst of adrenaline rushes through me. He leans over and slightly rubs his lips over my neck. Then starts to whisper in my ear.

     “
I am the boss sweetheart. I own this place. A little liquor won’t hurt. I think it is time you take a ride on the wild side.” Stone growls seductively causing an onslaught of erotic emotions that I have never ever felt.

     He lets go of me a
nd my heart is now pounding damn near uncontrollably.

     Stone has gotten me all hot and bothered.