Page 16

Another video comes up, and it’s Cameron again, this time filming himself walking into a tanning salon. I guffaw as a woman leads him into a booth. He sets his phone down, and the video shows him stripping down to get a spray tan.

There are more short videos of Cameron at the gym, at a beauty bar, and one of him getting his eyebrows plucked.

Someone spliced them all together and put a bold graphic over the top. ‘The man who said no fat chicks spends hours a day faking his own body.’

I laugh at the irony.

The comments are blowing up, and it’s mostly women calling him out for hypocrisy. I usually don’t laugh at others’ misfortune, but now he knows what it’s like to be humiliated on the internet.

I dare to check my profile on my favorite video app. I’ve been tagged in hundreds of videos and comments. Some are hateful, and I scroll past, but increasingly there’s support from women all over the internet.

Women are sharing stories about being told they’re too big, too small, too tall. A hashtag is trending: #NotSorryAboutMyBody.

As I read the stories of body shaming, I’m both horrified and uplifted. The support is incredible; hundreds of women reminding me it’s not me who should be ashamed, it’s the men who shared the video, who continue to judge women by their looks alone.

I love that women are speaking out. It makes me wonder about the videos of Cameron and why they’re surfacing now. Someone leaked them, and it’s a reminder that despite the show of support, the internet can be weaponized, and that makes me uneasy.

But could the internet be used for good? A half-formed idea surfaces. Women have voices, and they want to be heard.

I suck in my breath and wonder if you can earn a living as a podcaster. Plenty of men do it by being outrageous, but could you do it by being kind and sharing a different kind of message?

11

AXEL

The smell of burnt toast makes my nostrils flare as soon as I walk in the door. Ruby is in the kitchen, humming to herself as she grates a slab of cheese.

She smiles when she sees me. “I’m making us dinner. And by dinner, I mean grilled cheese. But it’s fancy cheese, so it’s gourmet grilled cheese.”

It’s wonderful to see a smile on her face, and I slide my hands around her waist. “Sounds perfect.”

She turns in my arms, and her eyes are bright. The haunted look she’s been carrying since I met her has eased a little. She looks almost happy.

“You had a good day.”

Her hands slide around my neck. “I did. I like your lodge, especially the garden.”

My pulse races. I like having Ruby in my home; I like her in my kitchen, even if she can’t cook to save herself, and I like her in my garden.

Most of all, I like the way she feels in my arms, like she belongs.

Her hand runs down my chest, and she taps her fingertips on my hard muscles. “I feel relaxed here. Thank you.”

Her gaze darts to my lips, and I don’t know what it is that’s got her in a better mood, but I like this version of Ruby. This playful version, who’s bold and sexy.

“You belong here.” I press my lips to hers, and she responds with a hunger I haven’t seen from her.

Her hands tangle in my hair, and every touch has me wanting her more. But I don’t want to rush her.

I break away, and she looks disappointed.

“Let’s eat. I want to find out just how good a cook you are.”

She grins and sprinkles the cheese on the bread. A few minutes later, we sit down to eat. But the way Ruby’s looking at me, I get the feeling I’m dessert.

As soon as dinner is finished, she takes my hand. “For the first time today, I got some confidence back.”

I bring her fingers to my lips. “I like the confident you.”