Beautifully Broken:Reckless Bastards MC(3)

By: KB Winters


“For starters I can’t fit in those jeans.”

“Try them,” she held them out to me and I snatched them from her, letting the robe fall to the floor and grabbing a pair of black lace panties.

I stepped into the jeans and my stomach tightened. I wasn’t one of those girls who constantly worried about what she ate. I ate healthy and turned part of my basement into a gym, but the curves had proven they had more staying power than I did, and all I could do was accept it. So I did. But still, the dark wash denim was at least two sizes too small in the hip and ass area the last time I tried them on. Then something weird happened. They slid up easily over my hips and ass, problem areas all women know well, zipping with the barest hint of resistance. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does. I told you before that you dropped a few pounds. Are you sure there isn’t a man hiding in your love shack out back?”

I rolled my eyes. Teddy was unnaturally curious about my girl cave in the backyard. It had plenty of light from three sides and temperature control but beyond that, it was bare bones. I spent time in there painting and sketching, and I never let anyone inside. Not even Teddy. “It’s just art, Teddy.”

She huffed. “Right. Finish getting dressed and I’ll wait up front.”

“Teddy what the hell is going on? We never go out.” She knew how much of an ordeal it was for me and usually she didn’t push.

“No we rarely go out because you’re a pussy and I let you be one, because I’m kind of one too. But not anymore. We’re going out to enjoy tacos, nachos and margaritas. And maybe meet some guys.”

I groaned at the last part. I loved Teddy for seeing any beauty in me, but she was my friend. She had no idea what it meant to be disfigured because she was the exact opposite. Beautiful. Perfectly so. The definition of beauty in the world today. Beside her, I only looked worse. “You can meet some guys, just be happy I’m going at all.” I didn’t bother with any makeup other than a colored gloss as I fluffed big fat curls around my right shoulder. I slid on a pair of strappy heels so I wouldn’t like a child beside her tall frame. “It’s not going to get better,” I mumbled, spritzed some perfume and took the long, slow walk to the living room.

“Damn girl, you look hot enough to screw.”

“I think you’re confusing me with your reflection behind me,” I deadpanned and grabbed a sweater as I stood near the door. “Ready?”

“Damn straight,” she grinned big and put on her best runway walk, the limp that ended her modeling career barely noticeable when she put a little swing in her hips.

***

“I’m so hungry today! I had an early morning Skype meeting with Charlene Simms and I didn’t get to eat breakfast.” Teddy barely stopped to take a breath as she told me all about the reality songbird with the golden voice. “The girl doesn’t know what she wants, no colors or themes or anything. And what she does want,” she scoffed, “is the very worst and gaudiest of Vegas style.” I listened to her complain but not really complain. Teddy dealt with difficult clients with more money than sense. It was a stressful job but she loved it.

“I guess it’s a good thing she’s paying you well.”

Teddy’s smile lit up her whole face, big ocean blue eyes glittering like jewels. “Very well. It’s my favorite part of having rich clientele.”

The cute young waitress set down a pitcher of margaritas along with hot tortilla chips and fresh made salsa. I took a sip and listened as Teddy talked gold cummerbunds and top hats for bridesmaids, effortlessly swatting three interested suitors. They were all of the same type, the kind of guy way too arrogant to think anyone, never mind one as beautiful as Teddy, could not be interested in them. Thankfully they didn’t spare me a look. “You always figure it out,” I reassured her because that’s all she really wanted.

“It is kind of my thang,” she said, grinning and making her perfect eyebrows dance.

“I would love to be your thang,” a dark haired man said as he leaned against the edge of the table, his back to me. Because I’d learned soon after I got the scars, that I was invisible.