Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(48)

“Can we please just f*cking drop it?”

“Not a chance.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who isn’t being real now? You’re expecting me to change and yet you don’t have to?”

“Didja ever think I don’t wanna put myself in a bad light in front of you?”

Such a self-protective macho man. Chase was so different from the sensitive West Coast guys who constantly shared every emotion, every thought, every bad and good deed. He was more of a loner than she’d first suspected. He held himself at arm’s length—a trait she recognized because she was the same. To get to the real Chase, she’d have to lay herself bare for him. The very thought caused her pulse to skip, but she’d do it.
“Great. First you wouldn’t shut up and now you’re giving me the silent treatment?”

“No. I’m trying to find a way to convince you to trust me. That whatever bad light you shine on yourself, I plan to do the same.”

Silence.
Ava watched the mile markers go by. After they’d passed the fourth one, Chase spoke.
“I wanted that type of experience, hell, any type of sexual experience, but I knew…” He puffed out a breath. “Look, truth is I was a short, scrawny, sixteen-year-old kid. I hadn’t added any height to my boy frame in over a year. Trust me. I measured every week. And every week I came up lacking. You’ve met my brothers. And my cousins.” He reached for his water bottle in the cup holder and took a long drink. “More than one person asked me if I’d been adopted by the McKays because I sure didn’t ‘measure up’ to them. Probably thought they were bein’ funny, and I didn’t have the life experience to give ’em what for.
“The first summer I started sneaking off to rodeos, I figured out I needed weight training. Not only to build my strength as a bull rider, but to change my physical appearance. I convinced myself if I was muscle bound, then maybe girls wouldn’t care so much that I’m short.”

Ava’s stomach muscles knotted at his admission, but she didn’t speak.
“In addition to ranch work, I lifted weights and added daily cardio. The change to my body came pretty fast. No steroids, in case you’re wondering. By the following summer, I’d bulked up and was no longer a skinny teenage boy. After the physical transformation…well, I finally had my pick of the ladies. So I’ve kept up a weight training regimen for the past twelve years, half afraid if I don’t, I’ll revert to that ninety-pound weakling sitting in the shadows with my cock in my hand, just watching.”

Knowing he needed a moment before she responded, she dug out a protein bar and offered him half, surprised when he took it. Maybe he thought it was a peace offering.
“No comments?” he said lightly.
“You took charge of your body because you wanted to. And it changed your life. That’s admirable. I can’t say the same. I let other people’s perceptions and expectations change mine.” She leaned across the seat. But this time she cupped her breasts. “These? Not real.”

Chase’s eyes wandered over her cleavage and up her face. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I had a boob job two months after I turned nineteen. Wanna feel them?”

His mouth dropped open. “What? No.”

“Sure you do.” Ava snatched his hand and curled it around her left breast, holding it in place. “Because I know you’re a tit guy.”

“Jesus Christ, Ava, what the f*ck are you doin’?”

“I’m providing a visual aid with my show and tell.” When he attempted to move his hand back, she circled his wrist with her other hand. “I’m not trying to turn this into something sexual. I’m showing you what I gave up in order to have the perfect Hollywood body and a rack that makes men weep with want.”