Larger than Love

Chapter One

Bernard

Friday, April 10, 1998

BERNARD SAT AT the bar with a glass of soda. Smoke blurred his vision as it wafted from machines. The scents of overpriced colognes, fruity drinks, and a hint of hair spray assaulted his nose. Thin twinks with platinum hair and gym bunnies in tank tops flooded the dance floor. The repetitive techno music pounded in his head as the dancers moved under the strobe lights. He couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began.

Liquid Pearl was the nearest gay bar to home. It was a place Bernard believed he would fit in. His mistake. Close by these fitness gods sat a bear of a man. Him. Bernard was a few inches shy of six feet and carried a thick two hundred and seventy-five pounds. His round belly pushed against the bar as he attempted to find a comfortable position on the small bar stool. His once-muscular arms flexed as he lifted his glass, a shadow of his youth on the farm. Beefy calves strained against his jeans, the byproduct of years of milking cows. Short-cropped black hair matched his groomed beard. His plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans contrasted with the skinny jeans, muscle shirts, and salon-styled hair of the men surrounding him. The average age was twenty-five, and he was in his mid-thirties. Over the hill in the gay community. Odd man out was an understatement.

Bernard received a few looks and even had men approach him. However, every conversation revealed their true intentions. He never received more than a second glance or a chat because he didn’t sleep around. They viewed him as a piece of meat, something to consume, rather than a person. He didn’t accept their invitation. Bernard was not someone to conquer, and he wouldn’t cave into the temptation of anonymous sex, no matter how strong the urge to touch another man became. He refused to settle for less than what he deserved. And he deserved happiness.

Regulars came in to unwind, dance, and have fun. Some men, like him, didn’t fit the mold of Liquid Pearl but they didn’t stick out the way he did. Friends surrounded them. Bernard didn’t have friends here, and those who approached him didn’t want his friendship.

While Bernard drank his soda, someone slid onto the stool next to him.

“Bartender, a Sex on the Beach,” the man demanded.

What a rude way to order a drink . Doesn’t he have any manners ?

“Hey there, sexy.” The newcomer’s tone changed. He sounded less aggressive but still manipulative. Bernard shifted in his seat.

“I’m Chance,” he said.

He shoved his hand in front of Bernard’s face.

“Bernard.” He gripped Chance’s hand harder than he should have and refused to make eye contact.

Bernard recognized the name and voice. Platinum-blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and tanning booth skin. A hottie men fawned over, but not his type. Bernard returned to his drink.

“You look kind of lonely sitting here all by your lonesome,” Chance said. “I see you here sometimes, but you don’t talk to anyone.”

Bernard glared back at Chance and caught him pouting. Clearly, he was used to a certain amount of attention and Bernard wasn’t showing him enough.

“Why don’t we go back to my place and get to know each other?” He caressed Bernard’s shoulder.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m here to drink and relax.”

Bernard eyed Chance. He pinned him at twenty-one or twenty-two. There was no reason someone this young, a boy compared to him, would be interested in him except as a conquest. Chance’s smile did not falter. His bleached teeth gleamed beneath the neon lights. Does he think I’m so desperate I’ll go home with the first person who shows an interest in me? I have standards, and this guy does not meet them .

“Come on, I’m sure I can thrill you tonight.” He lowered his hand below Bernard’s belly. “I’m sure you could use a little attention. A guy like you probably doesn’t get much. I can change that.” His lips were close to Bernard’s ear as his hand traced a path to Bernard’s crotch. The stench of his cologne overwhelmed Bernard’s senses. Chance’s hand moved to find Bernard’s cock but appeared lost between his thick thighs.

Bernard grabbed Chance’s hand and moved it off him. Did he think that was a compliment? That I should take what I can get? Not a chance, Chance . Heat warmed his cheeks.

“I said no, thank you.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t get told no.” Chance placed his hand on Bernard’s chest. The bartender placed Chance’s drink on the bar and moved to the next patron.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He removed his hand again. “Oh look, your drink is here. Now you can go.”

But Chance continued his pursuit. “Sweetie, I know you want me, and I want you. There’s no need to play hard to get. So, why don’t we get out of here? What do you say?”

He slipped his hand into Bernard’s shirt and stroked his chest. A flicker of disgust passed across his flawless face as he rubbed Bernard’s chest hair. He composed himself, but not before Bernard caught him. Does this guy have no shame? It’s clear he isn’t into me. What’s he after?

Bernard grabbed Chance’s hand, rougher this time, and took it out of his shirt. He glared. “Touch me again, and I will break your hand, ‘sweetie.’” He tossed his hand away.

“You fat bastard!” Chance yelled loud enough to drown out the music. Patrons closest to them turned. Chance stepped back and gestured at his body with a theatrical up-and-down sweep of his hands. “You have a hot guy right in front of you, willing to take your disgusting ass home to actually fuck, which I doubt you’ve had in a long time, and you turn it down? You’re not only fat, but you’re also fucking stupid! No one around here is going to touch your ugly, fat ass.” He made a show of including the entire club. “You should get it when you can. You’re old as shit and going to die alone!”

Silence followed the outburst. The music still thumped its rhythmic sounds while the dancers continued, oblivious to the exchange. Those nearby waited with bated breath for Bernard’s reaction.

Bernard silently stood. His mass eclipsed Chance’s frame. He closed his eyes and took two deep breaths then released them.

He spoke slowly and softly. “Listen to me, you egotistical, carbon-copy asshole. I may not have your looks, but I do have standards, dignity, and self-respect. You think I’m so desperate that I’ll go home with the first person who talks to me? I am going to guess that you talked to me on a bet. I’ve seen your type. You’re not interested in me. You don’t want to have sex with someone like me.” Bernard pointed out the musclemen who surrounded them. “Those are the guys I’ve seen you leave with. Either way, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, so leave me alone.”

Chance stood dumbfounded for a moment. He regained himself. “No! You listen to me, you–”

Bernard held up his hand to cut him off. He rotated it and flipped him off. Chance grabbed his drink and huffed away, mumbling to himself. Bernard’s eyes followed Chance back to his table. Chance’s face fell as he handed a bill to a broad-shouldered man. Typical entitled kid who thinks the world owes him something for doing nothing but being born with the right body.

Bernard drained his soda and set the glass on the bar. “I need to leave,” he growled to himself. “I can’t be the only bear who likes other bears.” He stormed toward the door, past Chance and his friends.

“Honey, that big ol’ prude has turned down way hotter guys than you.” The broad-shouldered man laughed.

Fucking typical. I’m a joke here.

Outside, the warm California air filled Bernard’s lungs. Fancy cars packed the parking lot. His truck, like him, stood out. The club stood on a lot alone, the nearest business a quarter of a mile away. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. The stars above shimmered with the near-full moon.

Bernard jumped into his truck and started it. The dash clock flashed 10:15. It’s only been twenty minutes? It felt longer .

He pulled out and headed home. His water-filled eyes blurred the road ahead. He swiped at the tears under his glasses to clear the path.

Twenty minutes later, Bernard parked in his driveway. He meandered through his gate, into the house, passed through the kitchen, and stepped over the baby gate into the laundry room.

He opened the back door. A lush yard greeted him. A dilapidated greenhouse sat in one corner and a doghouse in the center.

A small brown-and-white corgi barreled toward him and leaped into his arms.

“Aww, did you miss me, Ginger?” He held his best friend tight against his chest as he fought back more tears.

Bernard took down the gate. He filled the dog’s food and water bowls under the island. Ginger ran to her food.

“You hungry, girl?” He rubbed Ginger’s ears. “Even though you don’t understand me, you still love me.”

He grabbed a pint of ice cream and a spoon, leaned against the counter, and ate from the tub. Tears mixed with the melted dessert as it dripped down his beard. Ginger sat and stared up at him as he sniffled.

“I know I’m not supposed to binge-eat, but it’s been a long night.”

Ginger barked at him.

“Okay, I’m almost done.”

Bernard threw the empty carton away and walked to his bedroom, Ginger at his heel.

Ginger curled up on her bed next to the nightstand while he entered the adjoining bathroom and undressed.

He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, recoiling at the ice-cream-splattered man in front of him. Disgust settled in the pit of his stomach as he turned on the tap, splashed his face with water, and scrubbed furiously at his matted beard.

After he dried his face, Bernard took in his naked body in the mirror.

“Who could love this?” He grabbed fat from his stomach and shook it. He closed in on the stretch marks hidden by his body hair. “This is…” He shook his head. Self-disgust writhed inside him. “Get a hold of yourself,” he commanded his mirror image. “That is not all you are. You have a lot to offer. It’s not your fault no one sees past your exterior.”

He stepped into the shower and scrubbed. He paid close attention to the areas where the egomaniac rubbed against him. His skin became raw and pink. The hot water washed away the grime of the evening, along with fresh tears.

He lost track of time and glanced at his watch. It’d been thirty minutes. Stepping out of the shower, he mindlessly dried off before returning to the bedroom.

He stared with disdain at the CPAP machine on his nightstand as he filled it with distilled water. Normal people don’t need a machine to help them breathe at night. He put the water away and dressed in a T-shirt and gym shorts.

Bernard plopped on his bed and stared at the blank TV screen. Leaning over, he rummaged through one of his nightstand drawers. He grabbed a VHS titled A Bear’s Day Work , put it in, and laid back down. The screen displayed two bearded, rugged, beefy men sensually undressing each other. They explored each other’s bodies with the kind of raw and passionate desire that Bernard yearned for. He closed his eyes and envisioned a large man with him. The dream man desired him, touched him, and caressed him. This man loved him. It made him both hopeful and sickened. The men on the screen were muscle bears, not fat bears like him. They wanted each other, not him. These men were everything he wasn’t. Men fawned over thin men like Chance or masculine men like them. He fell in the middle. Lost. Forgotten.

He shut off the tape and turned the channel. He lay there as a commercial boasted about a new weight-loss supplement that required one daily pill. Another described medication to help with depression and anxiety. Bernard stared at the ceiling; fresh tears clouded his vision as thoughts of a life without someone to love him filled his head.

Why does society shun those of us who don’t fit their mold?

Ginger climbed up the stairs at the foot of the bed and nudged Bernard’s side. He didn’t respond. His unfocused eyes gazed into oblivion. Ginger prompted a few more times before she gave up. She curled up next to Bernard and whimpered softly.

Bernard rubbed the dog’s head. “I’m sorry, girl, I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Ginger sighed.

“You get me, girl. You love me. Is it possible to find someone who loves me as much as you do?”

Ginger barked.

“I know I need another human here. I wonder if I’m reaching too far.”

Bernard rolled onto his side. Ginger nuzzled against his chest.

“What can I do to be noticed?” he asked. “Am I lovable?”