“I know you can,” he says. “But it only got harder once I joined the Marines and started eating regularly and lifting. I put on a good fifty pounds of muscle the first couple of years. So then I wasn’t just six-foot-nine, I was six-nine and weighed close to three hundred pounds. I was fuckin’ scary. I had short hair back then, and no beard. The long hair and the beard kinda soften me a little bit. Shaved? Women and children run screaming.”
I laugh. “Oh, come on. Can’t be that bad.”
He snorts. Digs his phone out of his pocket and pulls up his photo library, trading glances from phone to road and back as he scrolls back to find a particular photo. After a minute of searching, he finds it and hands me the phone. It’s a photo of a photo, meaning he snapped a picture of an actual physical printed photograph. It’s him, Rev, and two other guys. They’re all in desert camo fatigues, tan combat boots, tight T-shirts, and wraparound sunglasses. Rev looks pretty much the same as now. Chance, though…Jesus. He’s quite a bit leaner in the photograph, still massive and muscular, but he’s packing way less body fat. His head is shaved to skin, and he’s a few days out from a shave, a dark stubble shadowing his jaw. His jawline is sharp, hard, and rugged, his eyes deep, dark, and wide. None of the men are smiling, all leaning on each other and scowling at the camera with ferocious intensity. He’s right, I realize—he’s downright frightening. The intense scowl doesn’t help, I’m sure, but with his size, those muscles, those deep, dark eyes, and the shaved head and jaw…he’s intimidating as hell.
I give him his phone back. “I mean, you are kinda scary without the hair and beard. You’re scary anyway, but yeah, I can see what you mean.”
He laughs. “You’re not supposed to agree.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m not gonna blow smoke up your ass. You do look way more intimidating. Not that you’re not hot as hell, it’s just in a slightly more ‘holy shit he’s gonna kill me’ sort of way.”
He snorts again. “Right. So what I’m saying is, I didn’t have a lot of luck in the scoring chicks department. If I did, it was usually because Rev drew them in with that broody smolder thing he does. I got the friend who was a five and he got the ten.”
I can’t help a laugh. “I can’t help but feel like you’re sort of…objectifying, a little.” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “I mean, scoring chicks? Really, right now?”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m making a joke out of it, Annika. The reality is, I had a hard time connecting with anyone, attracting anyone. And that was just the start of the issues.”
I frown at him. “What else was there?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “Hard to talk about.”
I run my hand up his arm, over his shoulders. “Chance. Come on. I’ve given up all the deepest, darkest shit I have. I’ve dragged out all my skeletons. I’ve trusted you—Idotrust you. Now it’s your turn. You can trust me.”
“It’s not about trust. It’s just…it’s hard to talk about.” He lets out a long breath. “Being a giant, basically…it can be hard. It’s hard to find clothes. I don’t fit in most vehicles. Like, right now, I’m fuckin’ cramped.” I look, and realize his knees are drawn up, nearly bumping the steering wheel, even though he’s got the seat all the way back and tilted backward as well. “I worry about breaking chairs when I sit in them, because I have. I showed up late to a brief, this one time. Slipped in the back, trying to be quiet. Plopped into the chair, and it just gave out underneath me. So much for a quiet entrance, right? You know how fuckin’ embarrassing that is?”
“God, Chance. That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“I mean, it was funny as hell. But it was also totally mortifying.” He shakes his head. “If I’m worried about breaking a chair, can you imagine how I feel trying to hook up with some cute little thing? It just…It doesn’t work. I can’t be on top, I’ll fuckin’ crush her like a grape. And…there is such a thing as beingtoowell endowed. And I guess to most girls, that’s me. They take one look at me with a hard-on, and they’re like, ‘no way, pal.Thatain’t fittin’ inside me.’ And that’s it. They’re gone.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You’ve had girls just…walk out?”
He nods. “Yup.”
“How could anyone be that bitchy? I mean, I get being a little worried, you know? You’re a big guy, and I haven’t seen it yet, but I’ve felt it, and yeah, I get the impression you’re…um…a lot. But there’s other things you can do. You know?”
He nods. “God, do I know. I’m an expert at those other things, Annika, mainly because things get started and I get worried about being…..rejected, I guess.” He swallows hard, sighs, shakes his head. “Hard to feel sexy and confident when I’ve been literally told I’m too big to fuck. Too big in every way there is. Too tall. Too heavy. Too much cock. Too strong. Even when a girl’s been willing to go through with it and fuck me, I gotta hold back, because I’m worried I’ll accidentally hurt her. Because I can.” He swallows again. “I have.”
“You have, what? Accidentally hurt someone during sex?”
He nods. “I…was into it, you know? Feeling good. I’d made sure she got hers first, and she seemed into it. Making all the right sounds, not acting like…like I was doing anything wrong. I got a little too into it, I guess. When I was done, she left the bed and went into the bathroom and didn’t come out. I heard her crying.” He makes a low growling sound in the back of his throat, head shaking, eyes lost in the memory. “I bruised her. Fingerprints on her hips. Hurt her down there, you know? Like, I’d gone a little too hard, I guess. She never said anything, during. I swear she didn’t. I dunno why. She got dressed and left, and I never saw her again.”
“Damn, Chance.” I look at him. “It kinda seems like it’s on her, to a degree. Like, how are you supposed to know it’s not feeling good if she doesn’t tell you?”
He shrugs. “That was my thought. But…you can’t imagine how I felt. Knowing I’d hurt her. Left marks on her. Made her cry. Jesus. Felt like trash, Annika.”
I rub his shoulder. “Chance, I…I’m sorry.”
He just wags his head yet again. “That was during my last leave before Rev and I got out. And to be totally honest, I…was never really the same. Any confidence in that area I may have had…gone. Toast. I’ve…at the club, there are girls. We lease them a room, give them a safe place to work, steady clientele with good money, and we only charge them a very nominal flat rate, and provide security. That’s one of my primary roles at the club, is security for those girls. So, I’ve…I had a few moments with one of the girls. She’s gone, now, got out of the sex work industry. But she and I had a little thing. Her name, her working name, at least, was Sindy. Like, S-I-N-D-Y. Obviously it was a made-up name. But she was…sweet, and very understanding. She really helped get me out of my head and regain some of that mojo. She’s been gone for six months, though, and there’s been no one else since her.”
“Six months, huh?” I smile at him, but the smile quickly fades. “When I woke up in that crack house, and I realized what had happened, what I’d done…I…I swore two things to myself. One, I swore I’d get clean, and stay clean—I vowed I’d never use again and I’d clean up my life. The other thing I vowed to myself was that I wouldn’t touch anyone. And I haven’t.”
“You swore off sex entirely?” he asks.
I nod. “I did. Seven months ago. So we’re in the same boat.” I glance at him. “Question for you.”
He meets my eyes briefly. “Okay, shoot.”
“When we met, you seemed pretty damn confident in your…abilities. Damn near cocky, like, absolutely certain I wouldn’t be able to resist you. Were you faking that?”
