Rocker (Rockstar BBW Romance) by Laura Demare Page B

in charge here?” he asked.
     
    “That was him,” I said, “Kenny the night manager. After 1, it’s just him and me.”
     
    “Let’s go,” he said turning and putting his arm on my shoulder. We walked toward the front of the store. Stevie holding me made me uncomfortable, but I was in awkward heaven. “I’m going to get you a cup of tea, and we’ll have a chat, and you’ll be good as new in no time.”
     
    A cup of tea? A chat? Who the hell was this guy? Are angels real? I mean an angel would be a badass, right?
     
    Dear Diary, I ran into a charming badass, at 3 am, in Ben’s Food Place. Yeah, he rescued me from my awful night manager. Then he put his arm around me and says he’s gonna buy me a cup of tea. It was just another night in the life of Cashier Girl .
     
    What was happening to me?
     
    Then I remembered my job. I remembered my bills. I remembered my little duplex already behind on this month’s rent. I remembered all the lack-of-money-obsessing that I do 99% of my waking life. It all came flooding back to fill the void that had been soothed by Stevie.
     
    “Wait,” I said. “I can’t just quit my job.”
     
    “You already have,” Stevie said, “Let’s get out of here.”
     
    We walked out of the sliding doors. What a relief. Had I really had to guard against Kenny all night long, every night? Was I really getting away? Did I really not have to fight off that creep for one more night?
     
    In a dream we floated toward the Denny’s.
     

2
     
    Ben’s Food Place is actually the largest supermarket for miles and sits right next to the best hotel in town ( Best Western) and the only restaurant that’s opened 24 hours.
     
    I found myself, in a Denny’s booth, sitting across from the most attractive human I’d ever encountered. I was holding a mug of steaming Lipton in front of me. “You don’t need that place,” he was saying.
     
    “Huh?” I said, trying to clear my head.
     
    “Let’s get some bacon and eggs, and fried potatoes in you, and see if you don’t come around.”
     
    “Cause I’m a biggie, right?” I said reflexively.
     
    “No. What?” he said. “No, because you've had a trauma."
     
    Stevie was definitely not from around here. I felt myself loosen up a bit. He was my dream man, but since I didn't have a chance with him, I might as well try to be myself.
     
    Biggie?" he continued. "No, you’re lovely.”
     
    “Yeah, more to love, right?” I said.
     
    “Uh, no,” he snapped. “I’m sick of this crap. Not you. I’m not sick of you. What I mean is, I see it everywhere we go. You’re supposed to have big breasts and a flat stomach or you’re not hot. And if you do have big breasts and flat stomach then you don’t need anything else, like a personality. Give me a break.”
     
    “Well?” I egged him on.
     
    “Well, it leads directly to the plastic surgeon’s office for some plastic breasts. Then you can starve yourself thin, bleach your hair blonde, and go get a fake tan. I’m all for people who want to look good,” he continued, “I’m just tired of the way media has pressured us into thinking a certain look is what’s hot. There should be a million definitions of what’s hot.”
     
    “What do you think is hot?” I asked him, not noticing the server with her order pad in hand approach our booth.
     
    He looked at her, her name tag, and said, “Hey, Renee. We’ll have two Number 4’s please.”
     
    She smiled at him a little too long, said, “Yes, Sir,” in a friendly tone, and walked off.
     
    Stevie turned back to me. “I think you’re hot,” he said.
     
    It seemed like I could feel the revolution of the earth, maybe its journey around the sun, too, and possibly the sun’s movements around the galactic center. At the same time I could also feel a burning blush rising to my pale cheeks. He gently rubbed the top of my hand with his index and middle fingers. He caressed the part of my hand between my thumb and