3 Chapter 3

“I think you’re scared if you fuck the same guy more than once, you’ll like it. Too much like commitment, huh?” Grant said, his tone sardonic. He removed the last stack of pallets for his order off the flatbed.

I moved toward the trailer and secured the tarp. “You know it.”

“Pussy.”

“Not since I was sixteen, honey.”

“God, you’re an idiot.” Grant parked the forklift, then walked over to me. He took a receipt from his shirt pocket showing proof of delivery and exchanged it with the bill I handed to him.

“Someday,” Grant said, “you’re gonna wake up and realize there’s more to life than having a new hole to fuck every night. Maybe then, you’ll get a clue. You have my phone number if you ever change your mind, or wanna talk.” He slapped me on the back. “See you next time, Trev Harding.”

I watched Grant walk away, that tight-assed swagger making me want to call him back and have another go, but I pushed that thought down, quick. What is wrong with me today?