Page 64 of The Enemy Face Off

"No, I do. I want kids. But in some abstract, future tense way, you know? I don't even have a boyfriend so it's a little too soon to be thinking about kids."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "And how come you don't have a boyfriend?"

I sigh and slow down a little to take a swig from my water bottle. "Remember how I said I used to be heavy?"

His jaw tightens. "I do."

"There's your answer. Guys aren't into big girls, or if they are…" I lock my focus on the forest straight ahead, my chest filling with a sense of shame I haven't been able to shake eventhough, rationally, I know what happened wasn't my fault. Both times.

We spot a bench up ahead, and without saying anything, we approach it and sit down.

"Did someone hurt you?" Milo guesses.

I smile sadly. "Try someones. Plural."

"I'm sorry." His arm twitches, and for a moment I think he's going to touch me, but he doesn't. Instead, he rests his hands in his lap, clasping them firmly. "You don't have to tell me anything. I'm curious, and I'd like to know what happened. You can tell me to stick my nose anywhere you like."

His words are like a release valve to the pressure that had been building in my chest, and despite his offer, I'm ready to tell him.

"I've had two boyfriends," I begin, staring straight ahead. "Liam after I graduated high school and Dylan about a year after Liam and I broke up. Two very different guys, but one very common theme in why I ended things."

I take a breath and carry on. "With Liam, I overheard a conversation between him and his best friend. They were talking about me."

"What were they saying?" Milo asks in a gentle tone.

"It wasn't very nice." I drop my head. "Basically, his friend was making fun of my size, and Liam was laughing along. He said something along the lines of, the only reason he's dating me is because he can treat me any way he likes and he knows I'll take it because I'm so…" I close my eyes to prevent the tears from escaping. "Desperate."

"Oh, Beth."

I shake my head, trying to loosen the stranglehold of emotions clawing at me. "I ended things right after that, but it still hurts. And I hate that. I hate that after all this time, it can still affect me."

"I don't know what to say."

I glance at Milo.

He's tense, gripping his hands so tightly his knuckles have turned white, jaw ticking, and brow furrowed.

But his voice?

His voice this whole time has been soft and gentle and filled with nothing but concern.

"It gets worse," I say with a heavy heart. "If I thought Liam was a grade-A jerk, Dylan was the supreme overlord of the jerkdom. We were only dating for a little while when I found out that he and his friends had a competition…" I halt, the repugnant words lodged in my mind, too awful to voice.

"A competition?"

"Yeah." I whisper the next part. "A competition to see who could sleep with the most plus-size girls."

Milo bolts to his feet and furiously punches the air. His whole body is heaving with rage. He leans over, resting his hands on his knees, his massive back and shoulders swaying with every breath he takes.

Then he straightens and returns to me. "May I?" he says, dropping his gaze to my hands.

"Yeah."

He crouches down and takes my hands, brings them to his mouth, and peppers my knuckles with delicate kisses. Then he looks me straight in the eye. "There's nothing I can say. That's absolutely disgusting behavior that makes me sick to my stomach."

"It's okay," I tell him, not used to seeing a guy get so enraged on my behalf like that. My girlfriends, yes, but a guy?

It's oddly comforting.

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