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    Hungry For Love
    Hungry For Love
    Hungry For Love
    Ebook113 pages2 hours

    Hungry For Love

    By Louise Lyons

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    When Sam Wilkinson visits the doctor after experiencing breathlessness and dizzy spells, he receives the news that his weight is putting his health at risk. With instructions to choose healthier meals, and get some exercise, he makes efforts to change things for the better.

    Sam joins his local gym, and discovers exercise isn’t as bad as he’d feared—especially when he meets gorgeous gym trainer, Luke Walker. Luke’s not only good to look at, but he’s friendly and helpful with it. When Luke smiles at him, Sam knows it’s just his job to be nice, but in his dreams it means something more.

    Sam’s confidence is at an all-time low, with his ballooning weight, following a failed relationship, and he’s certain Luke would never look twice at him in reality. But when he discovers Luke has been hurt, too, by an uncaring ex, and has similar insecurities, Sam realizes there might be hope for him after all.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLouise Lyons
    Release dateJun 7, 2015
    ISBN9781310623684
    Hungry For Love
    Author

    Louise Lyons

    I'm a gay romance author from the UK, having started in my late teens writing Fanfiction with a number of different films/TV series for inspiration. My reviews prompted me to try publishing some works and my first book was released in 2014. Since then, I've published several novels and novellas, and a collection of short stories.Most of the books published through official publishing channels have now had the rights returned to me for various reasons, so I'm re-issuing them myself.

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      Book preview

      Hungry For Love - Louise Lyons

      Hungry for Love

      by

      Louise Lyons

      COPYRIGHT

      Hungry for Love © 2015 Louise Lyons

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

      This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

      WARNING

      This book contains material that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations.

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      About the Author

      Chapter One

      I LET myself into my apartment and trudged into the living room. Dumping the two plastic bags of food on the sofa, I toed off my shoes and shrugged out of my fleece jacket. It was April and not really cold enough to wear it, but I’d convinced myself the loose-fitting garment disguised the size of my stomach and the embarrassing start of a pair of man-boobs. So I continued to wear it, regardless of the warm weather.

      I sat down and peeked warily into one of the bags. I’d been to the supermarket after I’d left Dr. Maddock’s surgery and stocked up on some of the things he’d recommended. I’d made an appointment to discuss my recent breathlessness and dizzy spells, and found it to be the most humiliating visit of my life. The doctor had made me stand on the weighing scales in the corner of the room, and announced I’d gained enough weight to be classed as obese. It was the reason for my breathlessness and everything else. He’d recommended a change in eating habits and an exercise plan to help prevent the possibility of early heart problems and diabetes. I’d expected to be given pills, or an inhaler, or something medical. But no, the man had said, not in so many words: Lose some weight, Fatso.

      I picked an apple out of the shopping, intending to snack on it while I recovered from the walk from the bus stop to my apartment. I would cook a proper meal later. I contemplated the fruit for a minute, then dropped it back into the bag with a sigh. It had been a long day at the bakery where I worked—almost nine hours on my feet—and my lunch break had been far too long ago. My meal had consisted of a meat pie and a cream cake. That was the best thing about Belinda’s Bakery—the senior staff were allowed to pick two items for their lunches, from the delicious foods on offer. I’d taken full advantage since I’d been made assistant manager a year ago and it showed in my waistline. I couldn’t deny it. I enjoyed eating and after I’d broken up with Mark six months ago, my enjoyment had turned to comfort eating and my body had ballooned. I’d always been what my mother called big-boned, but when things with my first boyfriend had begun to sour, I’d grown bigger, giving him one more thing to complain about.

      Tomorrow, I said aloud. It’s too late to make any changes today anyway. I dug into the other bag which contained some of the leftover stock from the bakery. Anything that hadn’t sold at the end of the day was given to the staff or thrown away, and I hated wastage. I started with the two large sausage rolls I’d procured, moved onto the cheese and onion quiche, and finished with four cupcakes. At least I’d saved the mouthwatering treats from being tossed into the dustbin, and hadn’t had to bother preparing anything.

      Sprawling on the sofa, I watched TV for the rest of the evening; the same thing I did most nights. I’d never been one to socialize much and most of the friends I’d had, had been couples Mark knew. Now he was gone and so were they.

      I watched a program called Freaky Eaters, which featured a man who ate nothing but potatoes and beans at every meal. He’d been fussy as a child, his mother had never done anything about it, and it had got to the point where he couldn’t put anything else in his mouth without gagging. He was a similar size to me, and he was warned he could be reducing his potential life expectancy by over twenty years. By the end of the program, he’d tried a variety of other foods and found a lot of new options he liked. It made me think more seriously about my own diet.

      I usually started the day well with coffee and porridge or some other cereal, and about a gallon of full fat milk. Lunch was always whatever I fancied at the bakery because I’d never been very organized, and planning a week’s packed lunches had seemed like a lot of effort when I could choose something at work. Invariably I selected pastries and cakes. Dinners often consisted of leftovers from the shop—more pastries—although I did cook two or three times a week. I liked chili and curry, and made these with jars of sauce and a mountain of rice. Saturday nights were my treat of the week—I’d get a Chinese takeaway or a pizza.

      Maybe Dr. Maddock was right; maybe I’d end up like that man on TV, looking at reaching the end of my life in my fifties, or perhaps even earlier if I continued to clog my arteries with fat and sugar.

      I heaved myself off the sofa at ten o’clock and went to use the bathroom before bed. When I took a piss and looked down, I noticed my stomach blocked the view of my dick even when I held it out at right angles to my body. It was the one thing that changed my outlook. I’d been alone for six months and the way I was going, I’d be alone for the rest of my life. Who would ever want me, looking the way I did? Even if I got a date, any potential boyfriend would soon be put off if he couldn’t find my cock in the rolls of fat. Shuddering, I went to bed and resolved to get out of it the next morning a new man.

      THE ALARM on my phone woke me at seven o’clock the next morning and I crawled out of bed to begin my bathroom routine. By the time I’d showered and dressed in my work clothes, half an hour had passed, and I went to make my first coffee of the day. I planned every step before I put anything into my mouth. Coffee with semi-skimmed milk, two wheat biscuits with milk, and an apple. I feared I’d starve to death by the middle of the morning, but I was determined to give it a try.

      My day at work almost made me waver—almost. I spent the morning drooling at the sight of the hot sausage rolls in the warming oven at the end of the sandwich counter. Every time the sliding door was opened to take an item out for a customer I could smell them, and I imagined biting through the crumbly pastry into the thick greasy meat inside. When I had my lunch break, I went straight to the warming oven to take one of the sausage rolls, but something made me turn away. I’d started the day well. Surely I could finish one day without cramming more cholesterol into my body.

      Moving away from the oven, I picked out a whole meal baguette filled with ham salad, and skipped the mayonnaise. I went into the staff room to eat and I actually enjoyed the sandwich. The ham was smoked and tasty, and the salad fresh and crunchy. It surprised me somewhat that I didn’t want to rush back into the shop to grab a cake to finish with, and I went back to work feeling pleased with myself.

      When it came to the end of the day, I finished as I’d started. I gave the last bag of donuts to the youngest employee, telling her to give them out to her friends. I left without one crumb of a sausage roll having passed my lips, and I felt proud. If only I could keep it up.

      I needed an incentive, as if my own health wasn’t a

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