Jake raised his brow. “Ticklish feet, huh? I’ll have to remember that the next time you zone out on me during a math lesson.”

“No, you don’t!”

“But see, it makes you smile to think about those things. You need to just remember the good times with him. Your brother’s last days don’t define who he was. You can choose to remember him however you want, like I choose to remember my Dad on his bike…just going out for a ride. It’s why I draw. It’s therapy for me and helps me etch the things I want to remember in stone.”

He folded up the sketchpad and returned it to the closet. I was kind of disappointed that he didn’t go through some of the other drawings. They all had to be meaningful to him in some way. I would take what I could get, though. This was the most information that Jake had ever offered me about his life. I wasn’t complaining, except for the fact that he returned to the chair by the desk, instead of sitting back down next to me.

As he logged off of his computer, he clapped his hands and said, “You know what you need tonight, Nina?

Interesting question and you could guess where my mind was heading.

“What do I need, Jake?”

“You need to get shitfaced,” he said getting up and putting on his black jacket. “Come on, enough studying for tonight.”

I followed him out to the hallway before stopping in my room to freshen up and grab a coat.

“Where are we going?” I said as he stood in my doorway waiting.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll like it. Trust me.” The questionable smirk on his face told me that maybe I shouldn’t.

***

After a seven-block walk to Brooklyn Avenue, we stopped at a building with a bright pink neon sign that flashed: Kung Pao Karaoke.

“We’re doing karaoke?” I shouted through the sudden onslaught of noise as he held the door for me.

“Well, mostly we’re having a scorpion bowl or two, but if you get drunk enough, yeah, maybe.”

The place was crowded and the smell of grease and booze filled the air. A clearly drunk woman with curly dark hair and a butterfly tattoo was belting out Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer while the patrons went wild. She couldn’t sing to save her life, but clearly, that didn’t matter here.

“So, whaddya think?” Jake asked as we were seated into a small booth in the corner, thankfully, furthest away from the stage.

“It’s cool. I have never been to a Chinese karaoke bar. You’ve been here before?”

“Once, with the guys from work. I was too drunk to remember much.”

“Ah. Do you usually eat or just drink here?”

“That depends on what you’re hungry for.”

Something about the way he looked at me and licked his lip ring when he said that seemed flirtatious.

“I am hungry.”

“Okay. We’ll get a Poo Poo platter of appetizers and a scorpion bowl. Sound good?”

“Great.”

After the waiter came by and took our order, Jake startled me when he nudged my leg with his under the table. “No more talking about sad stuff tonight, okay? I want you to have fun.”

“You’re not going to make me get up there are you?”

His mouth turned slowly upwards. There were the dimples that had been hiding out up until now. “You know that I don’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Good, because I would need a lot of alcohol in me to get up and do that.”

A woman came by and set the humungous scorpion bowl down on the table. It looked more like a portable sink with two straws.

“Speaking of the devil,” he said.

“I think you’re the devil tonight, Jake. What are you trying to kill me? Look at the size of this thing.”

“I have…heard that before,” he said winking.

Lordy. I set myself up for that one.

I responded to the mental images that conjured up by taking a huge sip out of the bowl. This concoction was way stronger than it looked, and I coughed from the impact of it down my throat.

Oh, goodness. There were those images again.

Jake pulled the bowl toward him. “Whoa…slow down there, lush.”

I coughed again. “That is some strong stuff. It’s deceiving! It looks like fruit punch and tastes like rubbing alcohol.”

“After a while, you won’t notice.”

“It’s a good thing we’re walking home,” I said.

He lifted his brow. “You mean, I’m carrying you home.”

“Possibly.”

“In all seriousness, Nina, I can tell you’re a lightweight, so you should pace yourself. I don’t want you to get sick.” He paused. “Oh, speaking of lightweight, what was your date’s name again the other night? How did that go?”

“Haha, very funny. His name was Alistair. It was okay. I won’t be going out with him again, though.”

“Any particular reason why?”

You.

“He just turned out to be kind of a loser.”

“Well, I could have told you that. He was wearing f**king boat shoes. What is he, seventy?” He laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t really have the best luck with men. My last boyfriend, Spencer, was king of the losers, actually.”

Jake sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Spencer…he just sounds like a pretentious prick.”

“He was…a prick…and a cheater.”

Jake nodded silently and looked around the room then his eyes met mine. “Well, I don’t even know the guy, but if he cheated on you…he’s a f**king idiot.”

I didn’t even know how to respond to that, but every nerve in my body immediately did. Thankfully, our Poo Poo platter came and I didn’t have to say anything at all. We started digging into the chicken wings, eggrolls, spareribs and teriyaki beef sticks. It was one of those comfortable silences where neither of us felt like we had to talk. We just pigged out on the appetizers, taking turns sipping out of the bowl, enjoying each other’s company.

When we finished eating, all that remained were the flames in the center of the platter. He moved it to the side, throwing a packet of hand wipes at me and caught me off guard when he continued where our previous conversation left off.

“So…Spencer…was he your last boyfriend?”

“Yeah. We broke up a little over a year ago. In retrospect, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Besides the fact that I found out he cheated on me, he did nothing but criticize me.”

He scrunched his eyebrows into an angry look. “What do you mean criticize? What kinds of things did he say to you?”

Was this conversation really going there?

I shrugged. “Let’s see…what didn’t he say? For one, he had no tolerance at all for my anxiety issues. He would just make fun of me instead of trying to understand the condition. And he criticized my body any chance he got.”

“He criticized your body,” Jake said, more like a statement than a question.

“Yeah…all the time.”

“Really…”

“Yes. He told me I wasn’t athletic-looking enough, that I could stand to lose ten pounds and that my ass was too big.”

Why did I just tell him all of this? I must be drunk.

“Nina…I hope you don’t mind me being blunt.”

“I don’t mind.”

“This…Spencer…needs his eyes checked and his ass kicked. There is nothing wrong with your body…not one thing. I hope you didn’t listen to him.”

Gulp.

“That’s the sad part. For a while, I did believe it. I realize in retrospect that he just got off on bringing me down. At the time, though, I really did think I was fat and I was even thinner than I am now.”

“Nina—” He started to say something then stopped. “Never mind. Just know…that he was wrong, okay?”

“Say what you were gonna say,” I said, downing more of the drink.

He slid his tongue ring between his teeth and looked away from me toward the stage when he said, “I am not sure that I should.”

“Since when have you become tactful?”

He took a sip and replied while playing with his straw. “Since this conversation moved to tits and ass.”

I laughed a little louder than normal and suspected the alcohol was starting to take its toll…on both of us. “Seriously, whatever you were going to say, I won’t be offended.”

He took another long sip from the bowl, licked his lips and said, “Okay…in that case, Nina, not just as your friend, but as a man, I am telling you straight up that you have an amazing body. It’s perfect. And your nimrod ex-boyfriend was right about one thing: you do kind of have a big ass.”

I spit out my drink. “Excuse me?”

He reached across and tapped my arm. “Let me finish. You kind of have a big ass…but it’s the most spectacular ass I’ve ever seen. You have an hourglass shape and any man with a pulse knows that’s the hottest kind there is. You’re beautiful, and what makes you even more attractive, is that you have absolutely no f**king idea just how beautiful you really are.”

I gripped the seat of the booth, floored by those unexpected words that came out of his mouth.

He thinks I’m beautiful.

He thinks I have a big ass!

He thinks my ass is spectacular?

I wanted to tell him right then and there how I felt about him, that I thought he was the most beautiful human being on the planet. But the thoughts wouldn’t form into a coherent sentence and just came out as, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes watching a bald guy and a woman who looked like his mother sing On the Road Again before I realized that my bladder was ready to burst.

“Where is the bathroom?”

“I think it’s down that hallway behind the stage.”

The room spun a little when I stood up. As I walked away, I wondered if he was staring at my butt. I still couldn’t believe what he had just said to me. Oddly, it was the nicest compliment I had ever received.

The bathroom was dingy, the floor was sticky and there was only one working toilet. I had to go so badly that I could have easily counted to a hundred while I peed and there would have still been more to come. After I washed my hands, since the mirror only showed the waist up, I couldn’t help but jump a few times to check out my rear. I wanted to see what he meant by “spectacular.” A woman walked in and looked at me like I was nuts.

When I reentered the dining area and sat back down, Jake was gone from our booth and I assumed he went to the men’s room. That is, until I turned to the stage and saw him standing there with a microphone in his hand.

A bunch of girls at a table in the front started whistling at him and shouting things, like “Hey, hottie.” I couldn’t quite make out everything they were saying, but this whole scenario suddenly made me nauseous.

The announcer asked, “What’s your name?”

“Spencer,” Jake said, tapping his hand over the mic.

Oh my God. What was he doing?

“What are you singing, Spencer?”

Jake whispered something to him and then spoke into the microphone. “This is a special song for Nina. Please forgive me for being such an ass goblin.”

I looked around the room, covered my face in embarrassment and tears of laughter formed in my eyes.

The music started and Jake searched for me. As our eyes met, he bounced his head to the music and flashed me a huge dimpled smile that made me want to rush the stage.

When he started to sing the beginning lyrics, the crowd went wild and several women started to get up and dance near him. Other people were clapping along. He tapped his foot to the beat as he sang, and it wasn’t half bad, either.

Everyone except me seemed to recognize the song. I didn’t get the relevance until he belted out a certain line. Then, I got it. I completely got it…and began laughing hysterically.

I turned to the guy next to me. “What is this song called?”

“It’s Fat Bottomed Girls, by Queen.”

Jake’s eyes locked in on mine, and I shook my head at him. My face must have been red as a tomato. He could see I was cracking up, and he tripped over one of the lines because he started laughing at my reaction. He was rocking back and forth as he sang, looking at me the entire time.

I couldn’t blame those women for ogling him. He looked hot beyond words as his h*ps slowly swayed side to side. I’d probably be right by the stage drooling over him along with them under different circumstances. His green eyes shined under the lights, and the white shirt he wore under his blue plaid button down clung to his chest, leaving little to the imagination. He always wore the sleeves rolled up to show off the tattoos on his forearms.

When he finished the song, the crowd went wild, and I could see his forehead was glistening under the hot lights. He was sweaty and hot as hell. Several women wanted a piece of him. I heard one yell, “You can do whatever you want to this fat bottom.”

Ugh.

He started to make his way back to our booth when a couple of the girls sitting at that front table stopped him. They were attractive and jealousy pumped through my veins as he politely made conversation with them. One of them grabbed onto his shirt and slipped a piece of paper into the front pocket, causing my head to throb. My drink started to come up on me as I reminded myself that this guy was going to break my heart.

Jake interrupted the conversation after he noticed I was watching him. He walked away and cut one of the girls off mid-sentence. When he sat back down in the booth, my heartbeat started to regulate again.