Milo
Standford has struggled with his weight all his life and believes no one will
ever want him. He has an addiction for cake that he can’t break, no matter how
hard he tries. On top of feeling depressed over his loneliness and eating
problems, he is gay. Not something he would ever tell his parents. Not with his
father, who was already disappointed in Milo since Jefferson Standford was a
fitness instructor and couldn’t believe he had a fat son. Milo figured a shrink
would say it was Milo’s way of rebelling against a controlling father. He’d
probably be right.
Milo’s
favorite guilty pleasure was attending baking contests, bake-offs and
competitions. And surprisingly, not for the products and entries, but because
of a certain chef that Milo would dearly love to meet and get to know. Not that
it would ever happen. Milo had no courage approaching someone, not with the way
he looked. He could just see it, the disgust and contempt at the pounds on his
frame. No way was he putting himself through that kind of rejection. But, holy
Christ, was Ashton Schultz hot! And the complete opposite of Milo.
Tall,
stick thin, but so very talented and beautiful, with his light blond hair and
big blue eyes and those long lashes. Not to mention the full lips and naturally
tan, smooth skin. Ashton’s clothes might not fit well, being so skinny, but
Milo didn’t care. He was perfect in his eyes, just not available. He didn’t
even know if Ashton was gay, and with Milo’s luck—probably not. Even if he did
have the courage to just to say “hi”.
It
was a chance encounter in a restroom at the latest contest venue that Milo got
his chance to be up close and personal with Ashton Schultz. He just didn’t
expect the encounter to be so—gross.
*~*~*~*~*
Ashton
didn’t think he’d ever been so mortified in his life. Not only had he vomited
all over a guy he suspected was a food critique, but it was the same guy he’d
seen countless times at the contests—and in his dreams. The tall man pushed all
of Ashton’s buttons, between his dark hair and eyes, to the wonderfully solid
bulk of him.
Ashton’s
life was out of control, his eating disorder unstable and he’d always been
attracted to big men who looked like they could take care of him, no matter how
weak that made him sound. All Ashton’s life there had been the pressure of
being better, doing better, speaking, working, studying—better. Nothing was
ever good enough for his mother. It was probably what drove his father off.
Now,
Ashton stood, cringing at the man just knowing he was about to get yelled at,
at the very least, maybe even punched. Wasn’t hard to figure out, Ashton was as
pansy as a man could come, even being 6’ tall. This guy had at least a couple
of inches and too many pounds to guess on him.
What
he hadn’t expected was the kind and compassionate reaction to Ashton’s
predicament. Or the friendship that followed…that turned into something so wonderful,
Ashton was afraid to believe it—or wake up.
No comments:
Post a Comment