Page 51 of Size King

While on a job, I meethim.

He’s a huge, growly mountain man.

He’s come down from the slopes to ruin my shoot.

But this is the opportunity of a lifetime!

I’m not going to let him take over.

Our fighting turns into playfighting which turns into somethingsteamy.

But then the mountain man disappears into the woods.

How do I find him to tell him I’m pregnant?

As always, there is no cheating, no cliffhangers, and always an HEA.

20

Mason

I’m cruising down the 101, headed for Los Angeles and its beautiful beaches. I’m occasionally hitting stubborn patches of traffic, but I expected worse coming into L.A. on a Friday afternoon. There’s no point in stressing or worrying because I enjoy driving. Also, I’m also not in a major hurry, even though I know I’m going to be late.

I’m heading to my best friend Luke’s beach house in Venice. It isn’ttechnicallyhis, since his parents own it, but they let him live in it. Luke likes to throw a lot of parties at the beach house, and he invites me over every time he has one. I try to make it to one or two a month, but it’s time consuming and costly to make the trek as frequently as Luke wants.

I live in Wrightwood, a mountain town about an hour and a half from L.A. when traffic is good. I was born in L.A. and lived there for most of my life, but for a multitude of reasons, I decided I didn’t want to be there anymore. I generally only come back to the city because I like picking up girls and partying—rarely are there any parties, let alone girls, up in Wrightwood. The town is quiet, and most people keep to themselves, which is a sharp contrast to what I’m used to.

The only other person in L.A. that I care about, other than Luke, is my dad. Unfortunately, I haven’t spoken to my dad or seen him since I moved. He isn’t happy with where I chose to live; he wants me to live close to him, despite us barely speaking to each other. I eventually don’t want anything to do with him.

While I love him, I have to keep some distance because of the woman he is married to. He and my mom divorced when I was a teenager, and he sank to an unimaginable low and married an evil, sick woman named Sarah. I never got along with her, and so, over time, I stopped getting along with my dad. It also doesn’t help that Sarah has a frustrating backup in the form of my younger stepsister, Kylie, who is becoming more like her mom every day and has a voice twice as loud. She and I don’t talk, either.

Sarah is a manipulative user, and she got her claws into my dad right as the divorce was finalizing, so he was fresh and vulnerable. My dad is somewhat known in southern California. He owns and runsDunn Films, his film production company in Los Angeles that is becoming bigger every year. He has money even after the divorce, and he had been happily helping me through college, assuming that I would help him run Dunn Films. The film industry is appealing to me, but working near Sarah every day for the next several years seems like a hellish nightmare.

I am also a more private person than my dad or stepmom. I could live in Wrightwood, where the population is six thousand people and there are more mountains than roads. My dad wouldn’t go into the mountains even if one of his movies is shooting there. But I like the quiet, and I enjoy the laidback pace of my small town. My dad and stepmom think it’s strange and ridiculous to want to make the move I sought. Luckily, I don’t need their approval, and I’m not going to live off my dad’s money.

I started and operate my own delivery service: Dunn Deliveries. Although a lot of the towns in the mountains have businesses and restaurants, many people that live there don’t like making the long drive from their homes into the city. People in the area tried suggesting to companies that they offer delivery, but when they didn’t come through, I started my own service that picks up from any business in Wrightwood or two other nearby towns and delivers anywhere in the mountains. I employ only three other drivers, so it’s a small operation, but it’s a profitable one.

I am lucky that my business took off because I never have to ask my dad for money. He would write me occasionally, offering me a spot with him at the production company. He hasn’t written to me in over a year—after a heated phone call on which I called my stepmom and him vain, self-obsessed, and oblivious. I went on and said that they only cared about their image and making money.

I felt bad saying it to him, but it’s the truth—at least to me. Once I saw it, realizing how shallow they are, I began planning my move. I don’t want to live that way. I still enjoy being on a film or TV set, but my experiences with my dad have soured the taste I once had for entertainment.

However, the taste always gets a bit sweeter whenever I physically return to L.A. for a visit to see Luke. I miss a lot of the sights and places I used to go to all the time. I miss putting on my sunglasses and getting some sun. I love the general overcast that came with mountainous terrain, but I miss the warmth of L.A. after I’ve been away from it long enough.

L.A. traffic holdsme up for an additional hour, but I make it to the Bishop beach house eventually. There are many cars parked along the street, yet the house is empty of people. I can see only one man walking around, eating chips off a paper plate.

I look at my phone, realizing that I missed a text from Luke.

“We’re on the beach! Volleyball net, guys vs. girls HURRY!”

Despite his command being in all caps, I choose to continue my casual pace. I park in the first open spot I see, and I sit in the car for a few minutes to make sure my appearance is acceptable. I know some of the girls that will be on the beach and what they look like in their bathing suits, so I make sure I’ll impress.

Fortunately, I willd have an advantage merely walking up to the volleyball net. The girls will see how tall I am, and they always like that. I have natural light brown hair, and I’ve been told it’s sexy as hell.

I also receive compliments from girls often about my wit and use of vocabulary. I am often told that I am charming and confident, which I usually turn up higher whenever I am trying to score. After a while, getting girls became almost a science to me and too easy. I am at a point where I am able to get just about any girl I want.

As I leave my car and walk onto the beach, I can’t help but feel more morose with each step I take in the sand. When I set out that morning, I thought that I wanted to come down, hook up, have fun, and bounce.

Yet, as I play volleyball with my best friend, his pals, and some of the most stunning girls I’ve seen in months, I feel nothing. I go through the motions like a madman, ignoring the smoldering looks some of the girls give me, only hitting the ball when it happens to be going directly for me, and I am ready to get inside and drink.