Following Isaac Read Online Free

empty flower containers before heading into the house. Uncle Greg was sitting at the bar with a huge box that at one point contained the metal detector he was holding. He also had on a pair of weird magnifying goggles that looked like something a jeweler would wear.
    "What's happenin' Peanut?" he asked, shifting the goggles to the top of his head.
    "I just ran into a supermodel at one of my hotels." I tried my best to be calm, but the statement came out in a giddy tone.
    "Cindy Crawford?" he asked.
    "No. It's a guy."
    "I didn't know there was such a thing." He adjusted the goggles and proceeded staring at the workings of his new gadget.
    "Maybe there's not," I said. "I just said that because he's super famous."
    "More famous than Mick Jagger?"
    "He's the most famous person I've ever met, that's for sure. His name's Isaac, but his Instagram name is New York Nicky. He's got almost a million followers."
    "A million, huh?" he asked absentmindedly. "How'd you meet him?" He pushed a button on his contraption and it lit up and made a few beeping noises, but he looked up at me like I should go ahead and answer the question.
    I told him the whole story about how he walked up to me as I was packing up. It was the second time I recounted the story since it had happened, and the whole time I gave details, I had an overall yucky feeling about being the girl he'd never be interested in.
    I was never skinny.
    Starting in about the second grade, I was the chubby kid. I was popular in school, and always got voted "most friendly," and ended up on the student council, but I was not, I repeat, not the hot girl. I had no problems fitting in during high school, and even in college, had an easy time making friends, but I really didn't date much. I was a chubby girl with hot girl taste, so I chose to remain alone rather than settle for someone who was in my league. I wasn't down on myself or anything—I was just realistic. I'd been living in my body for twenty-one years, and I knew where I stood with men.
    That was my attitude before today, but seeing Isaac Charles in person made something flip in my brain. Maybe it was the fact that he noticed me and took the time to walk over, or maybe I was just blown away by the way he looked (which, unbelievably, was better in person than in photos). Either way, seeing him made my thinking shift. Suddenly, I had a goal. I'd honestly never been so moved by a guy that I'd be willing to try to change the way I looked, but that's exactly what I wanted to do with Isaac. The sight of him motivated me in a way nothing else had. By the time I was finished telling Greg the story, I'd already decided I was going to start making major changes.
    "Are you okay?" he asked, seeing how deep in thought I was. I cleared my throat, trying to stall while I sorted out some of the feelings that were surfacing.
    "I've obviously never seen myself as the type of person who works out," I said. "I'm wondering if I could even do it, or if it'd physically be too hard for me."
    Greg gawked at me through the goggles with an open mouth. I had no idea what he was thinking. "Of course you could to it," he said, staring at me in disbelief as if he thought I might have been joking. "You're twenty-one years old and you're healthy. Why wouldn't you be able to do it?"
    "Because I'm not that girl. I'm not a go to the gym type of person. I've never in my life sought out an opportunity to break a sweat." He stared at me so I continued, "I don’t even know if I could make it through a workout. Actually, I'm not even sure what a workout is . I know I don't want to go jogging, and I'm pretty sure I hate those machines." I sighed. "I look like crap in yoga pants, and I can't even imagine what I'd wear to work out in front of people."
    "You should do some of that Richard Simmons stuff. You can work out in the living room and not have to worry about what you wear."
    I didn't know what he was talking about, but I figured it was something like P90X. I'd tried