Excerpt: How I Met Your Father

A wall of stifling humidity swamped me on the jet way, but it didn’t slow me. My first stop in San Juan would be a tour of the restroom. Sure, I needed to clean the feel of him from my hands, right freaking now, but a bigger problem presented itself thanks to that grabby man-coddler. I wasn’t the only one who’d sat stiff and silent for the last few minutes of the flight, because that final slide and push of his thumb against my palm hadn’t been innocent. It had been sexual. More than a pass,...