Page 8 of Big Girl Panties

My gaze lifted from the menu, and I peered through my thick lashes at the beautiful man sitting across from me, that I had met only an hour before. He was tall, like really tall, with the body of an athletic God. His long, dark hair was slicked back into a bun, and his dark eyes scanned the menu as he stroked his well-groomed black beard, which perfectly framed his strong jawline. He was the complete opposite of me in every way.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I pulled my cardigan tighter across my chest and found myself studying the salt shaker instead of his face.

Why did I say yes to this?

It was definitely the alcohol.

Men like Matt didn't like girls like me. I caught my reflection in the diner window, my round face distorted. Next to Matt's chiseled features and easy smile, I felt like a dull pebble beside a glittering diamond.

"What are you getting?" he asked without looking up from his menu.

"I think I'll have a coffee."

His eyes lifted, meeting mine. "That's it?" I nodded. "They have the best pancakes."

"Just coffee."

The pretty, petite blonde waitress's smile widened as she approached our table, her eyes fixed on Matt. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she took his order, barely glancing in my direction. To be fair, his gaze only met hers to order. He politely smiled as he handed her the menu.

A warm feeling spread through my chest as Matt's attention returned to me, his eyes meeting mine with genuine interest. I sat up a little straighter, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"So, how long were you married?" He was going straight for the hard questions.

"A year, but we were together for about seven years. What about you? Have you ever been married?"

"Yes, I married my high school sweetheart shortly after graduation. We divorced about ten years ago. I haven't been in a serious relationship since. I've mostly been focused on my career."

"So, what do you do when you're not charming strangers in a bar?"

"Charming?" Matt's grin was pure mischief. "You think I'm charming?"

"Don't let it go to your head. I'm easily impressed after three drinks."

"Only three? I'm losing my touch." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Ever heard of Mataio 'The Mountain' Strickland?"

I squinted at him. "Is that supposed to mean something to me? Because I hate to break it to you, but I'm not exactly up on my… mountain… people?"

He laughed, a deep rumble that made me want to say more ridiculous things just to hear it again. "Professional wrestler. That's me. Been body-slamming my way through life for about a decade."

"You're kidding." I looked him up and down more obviously this time. "Wait, is that why you're built like, well, like you could bench press my car?"

"I could bench press you too, if you're interested."

"That's either very romantic or mildly threatening. I can't decide which." My gaze lifted to the waitress as she set our drinks in front of us. "Wait, hold on. You're telling me I've been sitting here complaining about my problems to someone who literally fights people for a living?"

"I prefer athletic storytelling," Matt smirked.

"Athletic storytelling? Is that what we're calling it?"

"It's choreographed! There's plot development, character arc…"

"Character arcs," I repeated, trying not to laugh. "Do you have a tragic backstory? A nemesis?"

"Actually, yeah. The Devastator threw me off a cage last month. Still working through the emotional trauma."

"Poor baby. Did it hurt your feelings?"

"My feelings and three ribs."