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“I handled it.” “Handled it how, exactly?” “With a swift knee to the balls.” I take a casual sip of my beer. “Just how you taught me.” He shakes his head with a small laugh. “I never taught you that, you little psycho, but I wish I had.
“He was practically throwing himself at me in the elevator. I think we’re fine in that department.” “I’m pretty sure he was going for your bottles. They look a lot like his.” “You’re not going to get over the beers, are you?” “No.” “Okay.” Monty claps his hands together. “This is going to be interesting.” “Do you smoke?” That voice of hers suggests she might. “No, but it seems you might drive me to if this is how the rest of the summer is going to go.”
I’m just tired. Tired of doing it all alone. Tired of feeling like I’m not doing enough.
“He’ll be on his hands and knees most of the time.” “As all men should be.”
“You added 9-1-1.” “They’re emergency numbers.” “I think I’ve got that one down already.” I continue down the list. “Your dad.” “Got that one too.”
My son looks over to me, a little grin on his lips as if he were silently telling me that, despite my best efforts, she’s staying.
“Come.” “God,” she moans, head falling back. “I can’t wait to hear you say that in the bedroom.” Jesus.
“But Max’s nannies have always lived in your house.” “And Max’s other nannies didn’t have a dad they could crash with who lives thirty minutes away.” They also didn’t look like Miller, talk like Miller, or have me wanting to flirt back with them every time they open their damn mouth. Additionally, they didn’t have my throwing hand putting in extra work while in the shower because flashes of her thick thighs and green eyes won’t leave my fucking daydreams.
“Thank God because next time what I need rubbed out is my di—” “You always make me regret it.” He peeks his head out from the table, shooting her a cheeky smile.
And they all assume we’re fucking so heads-up on that.” “If it were up to me, they’d be right.”
“You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Why are you in such a good mood?” “I’m not… I’m just glad Max is back.” “You got laid, didn’t you?” Kai doesn’t confirm or deny. “You did! Fucking knew it!” There’s so much excitement in Isaiah’s voice. He knocks on the door. “Hey, nice work, Miller!”
Damn, drunk girls really do become best friends by existing in the same room.
“Wonderful,” he deadpans. “I guess I’ll go watch some YouTube videos on how to do that because I have no fucking clue how to poach an egg, but I can promise you, they’re going to be perfect. So, good luck not falling in love with me tomorrow, Kennedy Kay!”
“Miller,” he says, making sure my attention is on him. “If you ever decide to stop running and make a home…” His eyes are begging, pleading. “Make it with me.”
“If you ever feel like you’ve truly lost your passion for this, quit. Your food will never meet its potential because you’ll never meet your potential. This career is not for the faint of heart. You will be beaten down on the line, day in and day out. You know this. But if you’re questioning if you made the right decision, you’ve already made the wrong one. “Find your passion, Miller. Find what makes you excited to get up every morning and if it’s not this, walk away.”