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“To be fair, Riley is tiny compared to most people. She’s the same height as me, though, but we’re different in our frame. I weigh more than her.” She glanced down at herself. Compared to Riley, Charlotte felt chunky. She wasn’t fat by a long shot, but “curvy” would be an apt descriptor. Despite having a flat stomach and diminutive frame, she had an hourglass figure highlighted by a larger-than-she-desired bust. The attention she often got because of her breast size made her uncomfortable. And finding shirts that fit right annoyed her.
At six-two, with a physique that made it obvious he not only had a workout routine but also lifted weights, Aiden made her feel petite.
“So? Can you imagine being carried around by him? I’m sure he’d have no problem picking you up and manhandling you.” Rachel gave an exaggerated shudder. “Ooo wee, I wouldn’t mind him tossing me around like a rag doll.”
Charlotte giggled. “You’re ridiculous. Aiden isn’t a caveman.”
“Shame.”
Noah snorted, and Charlotte turned to look at him.
“Don’t start,” Rachel warned. “You wouldn’t understand the complexities of my obsession.”
“Your obsession with tall men? Sure I do. You told me all about it when you were chasing after that one dude who transferred out last month in our gen ed class.”
Rachel looked at Charlotte. “Oh man, you should have seen him. He made even Noah look short.”
“He was six-seven; he’d make anyone look short. I’m a respectable six-one, I’ll have you know.”
“Oh, I know.” Rachel gave Noah a not-so-subtle once over.
He rolled his eyes. “Obsessed. Point proven.”
“Short women need love too.”
“How tall are you, exactly?”
Rachel sat up and straightened her shoulders. “Five-six-ish.”
Noah inclined his head and gave her a droll look. “Without heels.”
She blushed. “Five-two.”
Charlotte pulled out her phone and began scrolling through the article she bookmarked earlier about potential degree options she could transfer to with her current credits, tuning out Noah and Rachel as they continued with their back and forth about height. She wasn’t one to care about if her boyfriend stood taller than her or not. It always worked out that way for her in the end, anyway.
“You’re thinking of leaving the program?” Noah asked minutes later, grabbing her attention.
“Huh?”
“Rachel just said you’re thinking of dropping.”
She fisted both hands on the top of the tabletop. “Maybe.” She hadn’t told Rachel not to mention it, but she wished she had. “That or transferring to a new program instead. Accounting isn’t doing it for me, but I want to help my parents.”
“Fashion design?”
Both Noah and Rachel knew what her parents did for work. They both met them when they came to visit her two months in.
She shook her head. “I can sew to repair something, but I’m not creative.”
“So veterinary studies, then?”
“Oh, lord no.” Her lips twisted into a frown. “I couldn’t handle it.”
“Why not?”
She deflated, recalling the one time she assisted her ma with a euthanasia. She couldn’t perform the procedure, only bring the supplies, but seeing the sadness in the poor cat owner’s face, and then seeing her ma’s teary eyes after the owner left the clinic carrying an empty carrier, was not something she ever wanted to witness again.
She didn’t know how her ma did it.
