You Can Count On Me (Christmas Daddies, #2)

by Fae Quin

He already probably thought I was an idiot. Or an asshole. Or both. An idiot-hole. That sounded better in my head.

I’d been a train stop for a lot of people, but I was self-aware enough to know I wasn’t anyone’s ultimate destination.

My outsides had never matched my insides. My body was bigger than I felt I should be,

Now there was only one bed I wanted to fall into. One body I wanted to sink inside. One mouth I wanted to kiss. One set of arms I wanted to call my home.

We were more similar than either of us had realized. The distance between our hearts was closing faster and faster.

He unfurled his petals, his heart tipped toward mine, his eyes full of stars.

Things of value hurt more when they were lost.

I’d learned that parents don’t know shit. Ever. They’re not magical beings who are inherently correct. They try, in the ways they know how to try—but in the end, every choice they make could be the wrong one. The difference between the good and the bad parents was whether or not they tried again when they failed.