Monica Ross Romance Facebook ad: “Two Book Boyfriends Are Better Than One”

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A package waited on my front doormat. Picking it up, I smiled when I saw the return address. I’d waited a week for this. The rest of the mail was junk and got tossed in the office recycling bin, then I headed for my bedroom. Plastic crinkled as I pulled two items from the package and unwrapped them. One was a pink wiggle dress with a flared skirt — flirty and a little risqué. The other was a bigger risk. I laid it across the unmade bed: a purple bikini. Faceted, oval pins embellished its shoulder straps and the bottom, catching the bedroom light and winking at me like diamonds. Definitely s*xy. Definitely posh. And definitely scary for a woman called chubby, thick, and big-boned all her life. A woman taught not to wear a bikini. Ever. But, dammit, Zaftig Zel wanted to live a little and shut up the voices in her head, so I’d planned a vacation with my boyfriend, Tristan. Puerto Vallarta was a warm paradise in December, and I needed a swimsuit. “If this and a few margaritas don’t warm his willy, nothing will.” I laughed. The front door slammed. “Speaking of d**ks, mine has returned.” I glanced at the skimpy pieces of purple fabric. Maybe my morning fun wasn’t a complete write-off yet. I shed my shirt and pants, and put on the bikini. Pulling and tugging and adjusting and, hmmm, there was a lot less coverage than a bra and panties offered. I chewed my lower lip. Maybe a sneak peek at my PV wardrobe might not be such a good idea. Looking around for my robe, I glimpsed myself in the full-length mirror and stared. Full br**sts, tiny waist, wide hips, and long legs. I took the clip out of my hair and let the reddish-brown waves cascade over my shoulders. I turned and looked at my a**. Whoa. “Well, you fill it out, Zelda,” I mumbled, “that’s for sure.” In a good way or bad? I wasn’t sure. With a deep breath, I screwed up my courage, retrieved my robe from the foot of the bed, and headed down the stairs, lower lip still firmly lodged between my teeth. Tristan slouched on the blue sofa, texting someone on his phone. He didn’t even glance up when I padded into the living room, my bare feet slapping the wood floor. “Sooo, I got some new things to wear in Puerto Vallarta.” He grunted and stared at the screen, blond hair falling across his face. “What d’ya think?” I dropped the robe. He still didn’t look at me. “Tristan?” I wanted him to grin lasciviously. Hell, let’s be honest, I wanted him to give me a preview of the festivities he planned for Mexico. Instead, he dragged his gaze away from the phone and frowned at me. “What is that?” My brows arched. “A bikini.” He wasn’t this dumb. The smooth fabric felt cool under my fingers. “I haven’t had the nerve to wear one since I was a kid.” Like pre-Zaftig Zel, to be exact. “But, I dunno, I’m feeling daring. It’s our second anniversary and this’ll be my first winter vacation.” I shimmied my hips, hoping to get a rise from him. “Sunshine and hot sandy beaches while Seattle sits under rainy skies. Aren’t you excited?” He gave me a slow once-over, his green eyes finally stopping on my face. “You bought a fatkini?” F**k. Wrong kinda rise. “A bikini. It’s a bikini … to wear in Mexico ….” My voice trailed off and my face heated. I folded my arms across my body. “Zel, it’s a fatkini. A bikini chunky girls wear.” He shook his head. “Did you get a coverup? Tell me you did.” “What? No.” A lump clogged my throat. His lip curled. “You can’t wear that thing. Whales don’t belong on the beach. You want everyone to see your body?” My heart felt like it was being crushed by my ribcage. Blinking back tears, I looked down and dragged in a slow breath. “You didn’t buy the plane tickets yet, did you.” It wasn’t a question. He had only one thing to do for our vacation. One. F**king. Thing. “Eh. No.” Humiliation and rage were having a meeting in my brain to decide which would take the lead on this sh*t. “Why not?” Oh, yeah, the sudden pounding in my ears and that twitchiness spreading through my body said rage had shoved humiliation aside. For now. He shrugged and returned his attention to the phone. “Don’t know if I want to go.” I grabbed my robe and jammed my arms into its sleeves. “Yeah, I don’t want you to f**king go either.” I snatched a book off the breakfast bar and threw it across the room. It hit the wall behind him with a satisfying thud. “In fact, I don’t want you, Tristan. At. All.” That got his attention. “Huh?” He looked up, stupid and confused. “Whale? Zaftig? You have no f**king idea how cruel that is. You clueless d**k! If you’re embarrassed to be seen with me, at least have the b*lls to admit it!” “Why are you so pissed? I was just being honest.” He stood. “Some chicks are dolphins and some are whales. Dolphins are tiny and can play in the surf. Whales are big and can’t. That’s all I’m saying.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Cripes, Tristan. Try a little harder not to be such an unmitigated moron.” He threw up his hands. “F**king hell. I can’t even be honest without you freaking out. How the f**k do you expect this relationship to work, if you get hysterical over a little comment about your body?” “Honesty shouldn’t feel like a kick in the t*ts!” “Oh, c’mon, Zel. You’re tall, but you’re not a model. You know that.” “And I appreciate you throwing it in my face.” He shoved his phone into his pocket. “You’re way too f**king sensitive.” “No. I’m way too f**king lenient. I’m done. We’re done. Get the f**k outta my house.” “Fine. Whatever. Sh*t, you’re a b*tch on your period.” “I’m p*ssed. That doesn’t automatically mean I’m menstruating, you ignorant pr*ck!” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the stairs. “So glad I didn’t move in.” “Me, too!” The front door slammed. 📚 ❤️ 📚 ❤️ 📚 ❤️ Wondering where Zelda goes from here? Read Fatkini, because "everyone needs a Drew and an Aithan in their lives.” Amazon: https://amzn.to/3BEgLwn Other retailers: https://books2read.com/u/mB5KjA Print: https://www.amazon.com/dp/173424402X

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amazon.com/kindleunlimited

"Two Book Boyfriends Are Better Than One"

📚 “What I'd give to find guys like this in real life.”