Page 96 of Carnal Urges

“I also heard you say you knew how much money I have in my bank accounts.”

“I do.”

“So then you know I’ve been saving.”

In his pause, I sense that he’s trying to word something so as not to be insulting. He fails miserably.

“Considering the amount in question, I’d guess you were saving for a weekend cruise to Tijuana. On one of those cheap cruise lines. Where everyone ends up getting diarrhea from tainted drinking water.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I apologize.”

“Not everyone is rich.”

“No. Especially not you.”

Insulted, I glare at him.

“Don’t take it personally. It’s not about your character. I’m only saying you don’t have much money, which I’d be happy to rectify.”

“Say the word ‘money’ to me again. I dare you.”

“I can see this is a point of pride for you. Let’s move on. What have you been saving for?”

“The laser beam that will blow you into a million tiny gangster pieces.”

He tries very hard not to laugh as I lie there staring murder at him.

“Seriously. Tell me.”

“Why? So you can mock me with your superior finances?”

“No, so I can be amazed by how cool it is.”

I say grudgingly, “Itiscool.”

“I know it will be. So tell me.”

Sighing heavily, I turn my head and stare at the ceiling. After a short debate with myself, I relent.

“I’m going to open my own yoga studio. But for kids. Girls, to be exact. It’ll be called Fit for a Queen, and we’ll hand out tiaras at the start of every class, and teach the kids how to feel empowered and proud of their bodies, instead of ashamed. There won’t be anyscales. There won’t be any mirrors. There won’t be any asshole helicopter moms in the back of the room watching and wringing their hands over how fat little Abby and Eva are.

“But there will be lots of hugs and encouragement. There will be lots of positive affirmations. There will be lots of tools they can learn to use to help themselves survive in a world that only values what they look like. Because there are way too many little girls who’re being taught to smother their fire and stamp out their light so they can seem smaller to people who are scared of how big they really are. Or how big they could be, if only someone believed in them.”

In the wake of that passionate speech, total silence.

I refuse to break it first. I lie there with my heart pounding, waiting for him to say something, until, finally, he does.

“That’s beautiful, Sloane. That’s bloody beautiful.”

The quiet wonder in his voice makes my chest tight. My throat gets tight, too. “Thank you.”

He pulls me in to his side, tucking me close. The arm he wraps around me feels possessive.

I whisper into his chest, “You said you’d promise me anything I asked. Was that true?”

“Aye.”