Caden DeSarro is what they call a chubby chaser. He likes his guys with a few extra pounds on them. So when he meets Kevin Dodge in a bar bathroom, he can’t help but stare, even if he does make an ass of himself. As far as Caden is concerned, Kevin is physically perfect: a stocky bearded blond with a dick that’s just right. (They met in the bathroom—of course he looked!) But Caden gets tongue-tied and misses his chance.
When Caden runs into Kevin one night on the el train, he figures it’s fate offering him a second shot. Caden manages to get invited back to Kevin's place for a one-night stand that turns into the kind of relationship he’s dreamed about.
But the course of true love never did run smooth, and Kevin and Caden’s romance is no exception. When Caden returns from a few weeks away on business, Kevin surprises him with a new and “improved” body—one that fits his shallow friend Bobby’s ideal, not Caden’s. Caden doesn’t know what to do, and his hesitation is just the opportunity Bobby was looking for. This isn’t the same Kevin he fell in love with… is it?
Caden returned to scanning the mostly male crowd (there were a few “Graces” here and there, out with their “Wills”) and watching Gaga, trying to determine the secret of her mysterious allure. The woman probably looked like a real plain Jane when she woke up in the morning, but her obvious slavish devotion to wigs and haute couture bordering on costumes (as Caden had learned as a seasoned viewer of Project Runway), elevated her to something irresistible to look at, at once ethereal and gritty.
Bobby whispered in his ear. “See anything you like? Any prospects on the horizon?”
Bobby did have his eye on one guy, down on the lower level at one of the high-topped tables, talking with a couple of friends. He stood out because he was not built like most of the guys here, who were, to a man, either too skinny or too pumped up to register on his attraction meter.
This guy seemed comfortable in his own skin, and Caden liked the way he threw back his head and laughed when one of his buddies said something funny. Unlike most of the other guys in Sidetrack that night, he did not show any signs that he was conscious of his appearance. Caden liked that he wore comfortable clothes, a cotton sweater of faded blue-gray and a simple pair of carpenter pants, most likely Carhartt. He peered over the rail and saw the guy’s feet were encased in work boots. Ah. A blue collar man. A working guy. Just my type. Caden also liked his tousled blond hair, which revealed fetching layers of color that went from almost brown, to wheat, to pale blond, to nearly platinum, yet revealed no indication, Caden thought, of the attentions of a hairdresser. And what put him on the “edge of glory” was the crowning touch: a thick beard, not manicured into tortured geometric lines.
And he was blessedly overweight. Not fat. But a bit of gut protruded, and his thighs, in denim, looked like tree trunks. When he turned around, he revealed an ass of ample proportions, the kind Caden could just imagine as two perfect, creamy white spheres made for grasping and pulling apart.
“Is it hot in here?” Caden shouted in Bobby’s ear. He took a gulp of beer and fanned his hand in front of his face.
Bobby came back with, “No. But from the way you’re gazing dreamily into the crowd, I am betting you’ve spied some man candy that’s making your temperature rise, if not something else.” Playfully, Bobby grabbed Caden’s crotch, testing. Caden slapped his hand away. Bobby was his best friend and had been for years, perhaps due to the fact that neither of them had ever crossed the line that would allow one to enjoy the other on sexual terms. “Come on, you can tell Daddy. Which one is it?” Bobby gazed out at the crowd. “The black guy that looks a bit like Ty Diggs? Or maybe that shaved head at the bar, with the ass that looks like you could rest a tray on it?”
“Nah.” Caden looked at the object of his attraction once more, suddenly wishing Bobby’s Abercrombie stud would return, only to free him up to at least make eyes at the blond. “There’s no one. Just checking things out.” Caden thought of his therapist, Camille, and wondered what she would have to say about Caden’s inability to admit who he was really lusting after.
Again, why would it matter what Bobby thought?
