Kyle met me outside of Ties That Bind at nine o’clock in the evening. I chose to wear my tightest jeans and a snug, green tank top to emphasize my assets. I kept myself in shape and was proud of the muscles I honed daily through physical labor and the occasional gym visit.
I liked to think it made up for the fact that I wasn’t particularly handsome. But from my experience, the guys I liked to f**k took one look at me—six-foot-four, two hundred forty pounds of solid muscle, hair kept military short—and they tended to overlook my crooked nose and plain brown eyes set a little too closely together. I had no complaints.
Kyle wore loose jeans and a plain white T-shirt, along with a shy smile. Even as understatedly as he was dressed, Kyle drew attention to himself, no matter the gender. He was
