Saturday, September 7, 2013

WIP - Nourishing a Soul - New

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.

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