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“I’m uncomfortable when Mom and Dad fight,” Levi says, pulling at a cloth napkin. Leaning in close, Pacey asks, “Which one is Mom?” With that signature smile, Levi says, “Taters, of course. Easily the bottom.”
I also think it’s why he gets lost in his books, so he doesn’t have to face reality.
Could he tell I wanted to motorboat his pecs?
“Minnie? You named your Mini Cooper Minnie?” I nod. “Minnie and Winnie, two girls on an adventure.”
“Is that what you want Daddy to do?” Taters grins. “Do not call yourself that.”
“Daddy pays you well,”
Then he asks, “Can I hold your hand?” Be still my heart.
“Shh, Pacey, it’s going to be okay. This cable won’t snap, we won’t fall to our deaths. You have plenty of years left playing your ice sport.” “Ice sport?” I laugh. “You mean hockey?” “God, I’m so terrified, I forgot what it was called.”
“Just because it takes you a little longer to find yourself doesn’t make you pathetic. Remember, we all have our own timelines.”
“So, yes, after careful observation, you are in fact hard.” I pretend to tip an imaginary hat at him for some reason—God knows I can’t act chill for one second. “That’s quite the erection, dear sir.” I pump my fist as if to say “good job, old chap” in an old-timey voice.
Max: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—I wish chronic hemorrhoids on Josh.
Giggling, she presses her hands over her face and scissors her legs under the covers while quietly screaming. God, she’s cute.
He’s wearing the hat I got him, which is endearing. I feel like a child who painted their mom a mug and she uses it despite it being the ugliest mug in the cabinet.
“I’m not . . . I’m not good enough for you.”
“You’re worth the wait.”
“Yeah, I felt it. I felt it all the way down to my toes, which is why I’m going to put some distance between that heat developing between us.” God, she’s so fucking cute. “And then I’m just going to stick these”—she waves her hands at me—“in my pockets so they don’t do any exploring. And with a gentle but courteous nod, I shall say, good night, dear sir.” I
“No, but I recall a donkey at one point.” No, not Holmes, too.
“There isn’t enough room in my goddamn soul to worry about anyone else,”
Posey: My nipples got hard reading that.
“You make my nipples hard,” Hornsby says.
“My nipples are hard thinking about the end result.” Posey rubs his nipples. “Oddly, mine are too.” Taters brings his fingers to his chest. “I’m concerned.”
Mom, did you have anything to do with this? You read all of those romance books, and I’m pretty sure you’re orchestrating this entire thing for your pleasure.

