Marc Jillson & the Gazebo by Anyta Sunday

Want true, heart-throbbing romance? Put down the Cheetos, and stop being a jackass.
The question is, can I do it?
I’ve been an epic dick to my friends, my uncle. Him.
Travis Hunter. Photographer, econ-student, paraplegic. Can I redeem myself? Apologize? Make a fresh start?
Hunter seems to think so. Even roped me into saving his favorite gazebo from the bulldozers.
The confidence of this man amazes me. He’s no bullshit where I’m all bullshit. I throw up walls where he knocks them down.
He’s beautiful, too. Strong arms inked with hummingbirds, a wide teasing mouth, and blue eyes that read me like an open book.
He looks at me, and I look away.
These shivery feelings I have for Hunter? They can’t happen. I don’t deserve him.
Where did I put those Cheetos?
Content warning:
References of past homophobic violence, mentions of the Vietnam War and the draft.