Couch Potatoes

Chapter 1

I never thought I'd be the type of woman to fall head over heels for a man I’d never met. But then again, I never imagined myself scrolling through plus-size romance stories late at night, feeling like the curvy heroines within them were my secret sisters, living the kind of life I’d always daydreamed about. I found myself reading a story by an author named "Jelly Roll" one night, and that was when everything changed.

My name’s Jeanie, and I’m 28 years old—plus-size and proud of it, though I haven’t always been. I’ve been heavy my whole life, the kind of girl who was always last picked in gym class but first in line for seconds at dinner. It wasn’t until recently that I started to embrace the fact that my body, all of it, is just... me. Rolls, curves, and all. Most days, I’m good with that. Still, I won’t lie—there are times I wish things were a little different.

I work for a big pharmaceutical company doing office work—data entry, customer support, answering phones, that sort of thing. It’s not the most exciting job, but it pays the bills, and it's secure. But the real upside? I can work from home most of the time, which means I get to avoid awkward office lunches and dodge the constant glances of people who seem to think they’re the "food police."

Right now, I live with my roommate, Mona. She’s nice enough, I guess. We’ve been friends since college, and we decided to move in together after graduation to save on rent. I thought it would be fun—like having a built-in friend at home. And, to be fair, it is... most of the time. But there are days when her quirky habits drive me up the wall. She’s a neat freak, constantly reorganizing the apartment, while I’m more of the “I’ll get to it when I get to it” type. And don’t even get me started on her love life. It seems like she’s always got a date or some guy coming over. Meanwhile, I’m stuck listening to her latest romantic misadventures, wishing I could move out and have a place of my own.


Jelly Roll’s stories weren’t just the typical "boy meets girl, they fall in love" kind of tales. No, these were epic love stories where men fell hard for women like me—plus-sized, confident, unapologetically themselves. In every story, the guy always seemed to worship the ground his love interest walked on, and I couldn’t help but wonder: who was Jelly Roll? Was he just another guy fantasizing, or was there a real man out there who genuinely adored women with soft curves and ample thighs?

I’d read every single one of his stories—sometimes twice—and each one made my heart flutter a little more. His male characters were the perfect mix of sweet and strong, and his female characters? Well, they were just like me. So, one night, on a whim (and after a glass or two of wine), I did something I’d never done before. I sent him a message.

It was nothing special, just a “Hey, I really love your stories. They make me feel seen.” Honestly, I didn’t expect much in return. But a few days later, when I saw a response pop up in my inbox, my heart skipped a beat. His real name was Bryson, he said, and he was flattered by my message. We exchanged a few more emails, each one getting a little more playful, a little more flirtatious. We eventually made time to start chatting via instant message.

I still remember that first one on one conversation we had. I stared at the screen, my fingers hesitating just above the keyboard. How exactly does one address someone who calls himself "Jelly Roll"? I decided to go for it.

“So, Jelly Roll, huh? Gotta say, I’m really curious where that name came from.”

His reply came almost immediately.

“Yeah, it’s a little out there, right? It just sort of stuck. I wanted something playful, something that fits with the whole idea of being unapologetically big and proud of it.”

I smiled, shaking my head a little at how casual he made it sound. The name was weird, sure, but there was something about the confidence behind it that I liked. “Well, it definitely fits,” I typed back. “Your stories are so different from anything else I’ve read. I love how you write about women who look like me, and they’re not the side characters—they’re the ones getting all the love and attention.”

His response made my stomach flip a little. “That’s exactly what I’m going for. There’s this idea in a lot of media that plus-sized women can’t be the leading ladies, and I hate that. I’ve always believed beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, and I wanted my stories to reflect that.”

It was like he had reached into my brain and pulled out every thought I’d had while reading his stories. “You’ve definitely succeeded,” I typed, biting my lip. “I swear, every time I read one of your stories, I get totally swept up. The way your male characters treat their women—it’s like... it’s what I always imagined romance should be. I keep wondering if guys like that even exist.”

There was a brief pause before his next message came through, and I held my breath as I read it. “Well, I can’t speak for all guys, but I think they exist. I mean, I’d like to think I’m one of them.” I smiled, my cheeks flushing a little. “Well, for the record, I’m not just writing those stories to entertain,” he went on to say, “I actually believe in what I’m writing. Every woman, no matter her size, deserves to be loved and adored like that.”

Wow. This guy was unreal. “Wow,” I typed back, my fingers trembling just slightly. “I wish more men thought like you. You know, it’s funny... the first time I messaged you, I didn’t even expect a reply. I thought you were this mysterious author, probably too busy with book tours or something.”

His laugh came through in the form of a quick “LOL,” followed by, “Well, I don’t really do book tours or anything like that, at least not right now. I’d love to be able to do something like that someday, but for now I'm just a regular guy. I mean, I’m flattered that people enjoy my writing, but I’m just a dude who loves big beautiful women and likes to tell a good story.”

I exhaled as I read and reread what he’d written on the screen. I was trying not to let myself get too swept up in my own fantasies about who this guy might actually be, giving myself time to get to know who he really was before I started picking out china patterns or naming babies, but in my heart I couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of excitement at having connected with this seemingly very kindred soul.

“And of course,” he went on, “I’m a total couch potato who loves to chow down on some good food!”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Now you're speaking my language.” There was a pause, and before I could think twice, I typed, “So, are you really single?”

“Yup,” he responded. “Totally single. What about you?”

“Totally single here as well,” I admitted. “I’ve been so focused on work that I haven’t really made time for dating since I finished college. After reading your stories though I kind of start wondering what it’d be like to have someone who actually appreciates me for who I am.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he typed back. “And for what it’s worth, I already appreciate you. You’ve got an amazing vibe. I can tell even just from these messages.”

My heart fluttered a little. I was blushing like an idiot in front of my screen. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, Jelly Roll.”

There was a longer pause this time, and I could almost feel him thinking on the other end. “Well, Jeanie, I’ve gotta say I’m really enjoying getting to know you. Maybe we should take this to the next level sometime?”

My fingers hovered over the keys again. “And what level would that be?” I asked, trying to keep it playful.

“I’m thinking... coffee, dinner, something low-key. What do you say?”

I grinned at my screen. “Low-key, huh? I think I like the sound of that.”

As it turned out Bryson lived less than twenty miles away from me, and before long, we were messaging daily. The spark between us became undeniable, and it wasn’t long we started making plans to meet up in person. What started off as a potential “coffee date” soon evolved into a grand scheme for an all-out pig-out at a nearby all-you-can-eat buffet that the both of us knew well. It made me a little bit nervous of course, the thought of allowing myself to go all-in and potentially go completely overboard at a buffet in front of a man I’d never met before, but if his stories were any indication of what the future could hold in store for the two of us – well, I just convinced myself that I had absolutely nothing to worry about.