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Yeah, sure, in my twenties, I would’ve been hauling her over my shoulder, but now I’m ready to get down on one knee for a woman. Well, not any woman—the right one.
“Are you a member of the Nashville cross-stitch club?” “Uh, no?” “Then, no, I don’t think we’ve met.”
The woman’s like one of those abstract paintings Cruz drunkenly bid on at a charity auction. There's so much going on that I need to look closer to figure it out, but I’m intrigued.
It’s Nina. Well, technically, it’s Philomena, thanks to my grandmother’s dying wish, but I go by Nina because there’s no way I’m going by Phil.”
It’s awkward, but I always have to ask because I can never tell a woman’s age, and I refuse to date someone under thirty. People in their twenties are still searching for themselves, and I need a woman who’s already found herself. I don’t play games unless I’m on the ice. Not anymore.
Anxiety always sharpens my words, making them ready to strike the nearest opposing victim, but he hasn’t done anything wrong. In fact, this man’s doing everything right.
“Hm. Not bad. That one was only six minutes.” Those words are like calling a tornado a fall breeze,
This man looks like he was handcrafted with temptation.
That’s one dangerous grin. He needs to be careful flashing that smile around. Someone might accidentally end up naked on top of him.
A dimple pops on his right cheek because, of course, it does. Thankfully, he doesn’t have a matching set. It’s like whoever created him started to give him two dimples and then realized one was lethal enough.
drop my gaze to his ring finger. It’s bare, which means he must microwave puppies or something equally horrific because no one looks like him and stays single unless they’re hiding some serious flaws.
For some reason, I thought she’d be this tiny little thing, but she’s taller than I thought. I like tall women, though, because it makes doggie style a hell of a lot easier on my knees, since I don’t have to bend as much.
Wait, what?! For real he's charming and witty, but then thinks this inside his dumb ass brain? Blah...do better author
She balks like I told her I’m a world-renowned serial killer. Not the reaction I expected. Most women toss their birth control pills out the window when I tell them I’m an NHL player.
I flash her a smirk. The same one that started the Tenerife Threesome Incident.
but she’s witty, cute, and smart. Good enough for me. My options are dwindling now that everyone’s getting married.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the same man who saved us from mutual destruction last week also tied up a woman on a yacht near the coast of Tenerife and accidentally set it on fire as she orgasmed.
Confidence is woven into her DNA, while anxiety is embedded in mine. Gwen blinds everyone when she walks into a room. I don’t want to be the type of woman who dims another girl’s sparkle, but she shines so bright that no one can even see me. It’s like she has glitter running through her veins.
“Hey, we’re icebound… Bound by the rituals of the hockey gods, my man.
I’m not good enough for someone like her. Hell, she saves lives. What the fuck am I doing? Entertaining America?
I desperately need a distraction from his blinding teeth. Those have to be veneers.
He opens cabinet after cabinet until he pulls out one of the turquoise vases I made in my pottery class. Rhode removes it, fills it with water, and puts the sunflowers inside.
Small talk. New crowds. Open bar. That sounds like Satan crafted a seventh circle of hell custom-made for my anxiety.
“So, name any position that you want, because I bet I can fake fuck you better than he ever did for real.”
“Because this doesn’t mean anything, and kissing means something to me.”
“Alright, no kissing, but let’s get one thing straight. When I kiss you, notice I said when, it’s not going to be because we’re trying to make someone jealous. It’ll be because you’re desperate to feel my lips on yours, and trust me, you will be.”
“I’ve never been desperate for a boy.” “Then you’ve never fucked a man.”
It’s easy for me to make friends, but keeping them is hard. Every time I slip into a dark phase, I go into hibernation mode and start ignoring texts. I lose a lot of friends in those shadows, and when I finally resurface, Gwen’s the only one there.
sometimes, I wish she would stop doing nice things, so I could hate her in peace.
Love is built with little moments, and we didn’t have enough of those, so our relationship crumbled.
Cruz picks up my phone and types in my passcode. How does he know my birthday? Nosy fucker.
Cruz is right. We need you to have your lucky beanie or the hockey gods will curse us forever.”

