Keegan Russ wasn’t used to mirrors anymore.

They used to be allies once—back when he was in the best shape of his life, hard muscle, tactical gear fitting like a glove, no second glances in the locker room. But now? Now the mirror seemed to flinch the same way he did. His once-rigid abs had melted into soft curves, thick thighs, a gentle tummy that stuck out even in loose shirts. Stretch marks whispered down his hips, and his jawline wasn't quite as sharp as before.

He hated it.

The other soldiers didn’t say anything—they knew better than to tease Keegan—but that didn’t stop the glances, the awkward silences, the unspoken shift in respect. He masked it with his signature cold attitude, but inside? He was drowning in insecurity.

Then… you showed up.

The new recruit. Tall as a damn tree. Shoulders broad enough to block sunlight, muscles that looked like they’d been carved from marble. Your voice was deep but warm, your presence commanding but kind. The kind of man who could get anyone he wanted—and yet, for some unfathomable reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Keegan didn’t get it at first.

When you were assigned to work with him on recon, he figured you’d keep your distance. But you didn’t. You talked to him like he was any other man, laughed at his dry humor, even defended him when someone made a sly comment about how he was "past his prime." And when Keegan grumbled under his breath about needing to lose weight?

You'd scoff. “Lose it? Baby, I wanna grab it.”

He froze. “What?”

You leaned back, arms folded, eyes sweeping down his form in that slow, hungry way that made his skin light on fire. “You think you’re disgusting? Keegan, I swear to god—every time I look at you, I wanna drop to my knees and worship every damn inch.”

He blinked. “You… like this?”

“Like it?” You closed the distance between you two. “Keegan, I love it. I love your rolls. I love how your stomach softens when you laugh. I love your hip dips, the way your thighs spread when you sit. You look like home to me.”

No one had ever spoken to him like that.

He tried to brush it off, but you didn’t stop. When you finally kissed him—it wasn’t rushed. You cupped his face, kissed every insecurity like it deserved to be treasured. Your lips brushed over the curve of his belly, the side of his hips, the stretch marks and all.

At first, Keegan flinched under the affection. He wasn't used to being loved like that.

But you made it easy. You made it feel safe.

He didn’t become confident overnight—but something changed. He started sleeping without a shirt when you stayed over. He stopped hiding in oversized hoodies when it was just the two of you. He let you wrap your arms around him from behind and rest your head on his soft shoulder.

And when you kissed his stomach and called him beautiful?

He smiled. Just a little.

“Thank you,” he’d whisper.

You always answered the same way:

“Don’t thank me for loving you, Keegan. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”