Page 190 of The Compass Series

It wasn’t a secret to me that I was plus size.

I lived in my body day in, day out. I saw all the things in every situation that non-plus size individuals probably never even thought of.

When we went to restaurants, I noticed the chairs.

I wondered how I would fit in them, or if it would be an embarrassing situation if said chair snapped beneath me.

I never sat in lawn chairs at parties for that exact reason.

I loathed airplanes, because sometimes I’d have to ask for a seat belt extender.

I overthought what the strangers beside me thought about being seated beside me on the flights.

I’ve walked into shopping malls and had the biggest sizes be too small.

I’ve cried in dressing rooms. I’ve cried into my pillows when most of the fashion choices I’d had looked like something my grandma would wear.

But also, I’d danced in my body. I’d moved it and flourished in it.

On my best days, my body was there for me.

On my worst days, it carried my sadness around.

I knew my body. I knew its pros and cons.

I knew how it squatted and how it stretched.

I knew of its abilities, its strengths and weaknesses.

It wasn’t a new relationship—the one with me and my body.

We had our ups and downs, but that was the thing—it was ours.

Now, it felt as if the rest of the world had a say on my body without knowing the history behind every single inch and every single pound. That brought about a whole new level of uncertainty. My body and mind hadn’t even had the time to figure out how to process the whole situation.

Society made me doubt myself in a way that I’d never had. Sure, I’d had bad days in my body, but I also had great ones. Yet the world judged me from a few photographs. They didn’t know me but pretended to know my body.

Fat ass.

Disgusting.

He’s cheating on her.

Did you see the size of her thighs?

It was the world that created a new set of insecurities within me, and I hated that they were silencing out my own inner voice. Their voices were growing louder and louder as mine became muted.

Aiden grimaced. “Okay. What are they?”

“What are what?”

“What are your insecurities?”

“Huh?”

“Your insecurities, what are they?”

I covered my stomach with my arms. There’s one. A woman online said I should’ve been embarrassed about my gut. “I’m not going to tell you that.”

He grew closer, making my heart rate increase. He placed a hand against my leg, sending a wave of sensation through my whole body. He wouldn’t break his eye contact either as he spoke to me. “I want to know each insecurity they created, so I can tell you why they are all wrong.”

“Aiden, I’m not going to?—”

He took my hands into his. His warmth soothed me. “Tell me one insecurity, and we’ll go from there,” he requested. My lips parted as he stole my next breath. My thighs began to tingle from the smallest touch he gave me. “Now, Hails. Tell me now.”

I went to argue, but before I could, he leaned in, brushed his mouth against mine, and nibbled on my bottom lip before gently biting it. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

Butterflies. “I do.”

“Okay. Then take off your clothes.”

The way he ordered me… the way his blue eyes stared straight into my soul…I had no choice but to give him the information he demanded.

“Can we turn off the lights?” I asked.

“Absolutely not. We are going to starve out every single insecurity with the lights on. So”—he gestured toward me—“remove the clothes.”

With a pool of nerves in my stomach, I removed my pajamas. I stood in front of Aiden, baring not only my body but my soul in a way, too. Standing in front of him like that made me feel a heavy level of embarrassment. That was until I met his stare. It was filled with nothing but admiration.

How did he do that?

How did he look at me and somehow make me want to love myself a little more, too? How did one look from Aiden silence out a million comments from strangers?

And I am in love with you…

“Where do I start?” I asked him.

“Wherever you want. I’m here, and I’m listening.”

“My cheeks. They talked about how chubby they are.”

He took my hands into his. He brought me close to him, then caressed my cheek with the back of his hand.

“I love your high cheeks and how you have three freckles on your left and seven on your right. I love how they rise so high when you smile and how the left one has a small dimple that appears ever so slightly when you laugh.” He kissed them, the left cheek three times for each freckle and the right seven times.

His kisses felt like a calming balm he laid against my soul.

“What’s next?” he asked.

I shut my eyes, feeling trembles growing. Not from fears, though, from the odd sense of comfort he was delivering to me.

“My arms,” I told him. “They said they are ugly and fat and only used for stuffing my face.”

He moved to my arms and began massaging them with his fingers, then he placed his arms around my lower back, pulling me into a hug.

I hugged him back without any thought, and he sighed with relief as he whispered against my ear.

“These arms are my favorite things in the world when they’re wrapped around me.

They make me feel safe.” He then made sure to kiss every single inch of both.

The butterflies intensified with every touch he gave me.

I rubbed my hands against my stomach. “They talked about the size of my stomach. And my thighs. The roundness of my face.”

He lowered himself to kneel before me as if he was in a state of worship.

That was exactly what he did, too. He worshipped every single inch of my body, running his hands over them, telling me why he loved my stomach, why he craved my thighs, why my face was what he dreamed up whenever he was lonely, how my body was a temple, and how if he could, he’d pray to said temple for the remainder of his life.

When we covered all my insecurities, he laid me in my bed.

My heart pounded as I kissed him long and hard.

The tabloids, the strangers, the kids at school—they all began to fade from my mind.

At that moment, it was just him and me. At that moment, all I wanted, all I ever wanted, was for Aiden to stay with me.

As we kissed, I removed his shirt. His pants came off next. As his body pressed against mine, he paused and locked his blue eyes with my brown. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Scared,” I confessed.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Me too. We don’t have to do this, Hails. We can wait and do other things, or we can just go to sleep and I can hold you.”

I shook my head. “No. I just… just be scared with me, okay? We’ll be scared and nervous together.”

“Okay. Yes?” he asked against my lips for what was to come next.

I nodded my head and held him closer. “Yes.”

Once he had his permission, I was swept away in his embrace. It was a first for us both. Every time he touched me, I became tethered to his soul. Every emotion rushed through me as I made love to my best friend for the first time ever.

Fear.

Excitement.

Pain.

Bliss.

Happiness.

So much happiness.

I cried because it felt so right. He felt so good. He felt… like mine.

I made love to him after he soothed every insecurity and shut off the outside noise for a little while. How could I not? He was my haven in a very hard world.

That night, I gave him every piece of me, and he gave me even more of himself.