Sage Against the Machine:All my knives are in the dishwasher. Whoever pissed you off will have to be bludgeoned to death with forks. You cool with that?
I swipe the back of my nose with my forearm and sniffle, a small smile crossing my lips momentarily as I type back.
Me:I love you…
Sage Against the Machine:Love you too, bitch. See you soon. xoxo
I peer back around to the front door of my home, well, notmyhome anymore, and a fresh wave of tears pricks my eyes. “Fucking bastard,” I mumble under my breath.
My Uber driver is getting closer, so I open the message app to text him.
I just need to get away from this fucking house.
Away fromhim!
Passenger:I’m coming out now.
It shows the little viewed symbol, but I can barely see it as my tears are falling so fast I can’t catch them, running down my cheeks, dripping off my chin, probably destroying my already ruined makeup. Not that it matters. Nothing matters. Derek thinks I’m too fat to love. Too embarrassing to be seen with. Too unprofessional to respect.
And the worst part? A tiny, poisonous voice in the back of my head whispers that maybe he’s right.
The black Honda pulls up on the street, lit only by the streetlamp, and I lose it completely. Whatever composure I had left shatters. I practically run to the car, yanking open the back door and collapsing into the seat, my bag clutched against my chest, anchored to me as though it’s armor.
“Are you okay?”
The voice is gentle, concerned, deep, gravelly, and one hundred percent male. I look up through my smudged glasses and tear-blurred vision, and all I can register at first is his size. This driver is huge. Broad shoulders. Arms that look as though they could bench-press a small car. His luminous green eyes are fixed on me with genuine worry.
“No,” I choke out. “Not even a little bit.”
“You wanna talk about it?” He’s turned, facing me in his seat, and his voice has this quality to it that reminds me of warm honey.
Soothing.
Secure.
Protected?
I laugh, but even to me it sounds bitter. “My boyfriend… sorry, my ex-boyfriend, just broke up with m-me.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Said I wasn’t the rightsizefor his friend group. That maybe when I lose a few pounds, I should reach back out to him.”
“Are youfuckingserious?”
The outrage in his voice makes me blink a few times and then scrunch my brows.
He sounds… angry.
Actually, angry on my behalf.
“Dead serious.” I wipe at my face with the back of my hand, and my palm comes away black with mascara. “Apparently, I’m anembarrassment.”
The driver twists fully in his seat, and I get my first real look at him.Holy shit. He’s not just big, he is gorgeous. Thick beard, kind eyes, and a presence that fills the entire car. This giant of a man is wearing a plain black T-shirt that stretches across his chest, and I can see tattoos creeping down his arms.
Not my usual type.
Not even close to the clean-cut corporate guys I usually date.
But something about him makes me feel…safe.
“Well…fuck him!”he says, and the vehemence in his voice makes me jump. “Seriously! Fuck that guy.” He gestures at me, his expression fierce. “You look damn fine to me.Real fucking good.Anyone who can’t see that is a goddamn cunt who doesn’t deserve you—” He stops abruptly, like he’s just remembered he is providing a service. “Sorry about the language, ma’am.”
