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But, words of affirmation can only get you so far when your eyeballs feel like sandpaper from lack of sleep.
I have a predilection towards busty blondes with daddy issues, not a woman who wants a love like Johnny and June.
Speaking of ravenous, I’m starting to feel that way for her.
She’s so unlike any woman I’ve taken home before—naturally sexy and confident in a way that unnerves me. But she also seems so innocent too, like she hasn’t been properly touched by a man.
“Fairies and shit? I can totally see you liking those bat boys, or whatever they call them.”
Lmaooooo me asf
“What exactly do you like?” I want her to tell me. I want to know so that I can give it to her.
“Use your words, Claire,” I breathe, stroking my thumb over her cheekbone. Her eyes flutter closed at my touch, her pulse is pounding so fast I can practically hear it through her skin. “Tell me what types of things you like to read in those dirty books of yours.”
Oh hes hot
“Please tell me, pretty girl. I’m hard as fuck just thinking about it.”
“I like a filthy-talking, dominant man who overuses the phrase ‘good girl.’”
SO REAL
“Now take my dick in your hands like the good girl that I know you are. I want you to know what you’re getting into.”
“You like the feeling of my cock in your hand? It’s big, isn’t it? But you can take it.”
Surgical residency is the biggest cockblock known to man.
But it’s exhausting always trying to be who you think other people want you to be.
“One day the right man will love you just the way you are. That ex-boyfriend of yours was all wrong.”
Love shouldn’t require you to diminish yourself with the hope that you’ll be tolerated.
“When the right man comes along, he won’t see it that way, my dear,” she reassures me. “He’ll embrace all that you are and make your light shine even brighter than it already does. He won’t see you as a burden, he’ll see you as a gift.”
My beautiful, perfect mom went to heaven exactly one week ago.
Parker doesn’t need to know that I’ve been obsessed with his sister since the moment I met her. And he definitely doesn’t need to know that seeing her today is the highlight of my entire month.
Live as if you’re interested in the lives of those around you, because you might just gain a perspective that you never knew you needed.”
Like I need to protect her. To tell her it’s going to be okay—that she can feel how she needs to feel.
And as someone who only works, talking about anything else for a few hours was like a beacon of light. She was my beacon of light.
The funny thing about grief is that if you have people to share it with, you almost forget you’re in pain. But when you’re on your own, the silence forces you to experience emotions that you’ve been pushing away.
And listen, I get it—they’re teaching us the same way they were taught. But if you’re purposely asking me a question that I don’t know the answer to, just to prove that you’re smarter than me, well, congratulations . . . you’re four years ahead of me in your training, so I’d fucking hope you’re smarter than me.
Well, she was my type, until I met my best friend’s sister.
“I think you’re the most patient guy I know. If anyone can handle Claire, it’s you.”
“We all have our vices.” Yeah, we do. And unfortunately, I’m realizing that she’s mine.
“If you’re bad,” Claire considers, her voice surprisingly steady given the flush creeping down her neck, “I might have a few other photos in my stash that you would like.”
At first, I tossed them, but now, they’ve started to fill the drawer under the coffee machine. He might not realize it, but the small gesture is one of the first things in a while to bring me happiness.
After all, he’s just a man. And anything men can do, women can do better.
Coming home to Claire has become the highlight of my day, and I hang on every word that comes out of her sweet lips.
Beau even had a grocery order of Lunchables and Diet Coke delivered for me this morning with a note that said:
Despite my best efforts to harbor an inkling of irritation for him, I just don’t have it in me. He’s so stupidly likable.
“Knew you liked to watch.”
“You have no problem putting me in my place, Claire.”
“The difference is that other people shouldn’t see you like that.”
I’ve never been a fan of beer, but something about a frozen margarita with sugar on the rim gets me every time.
SHe is me i am her
Actually, scratch that . . . Morgan is one hundred percent the girl that would befriend a serial killer. She’s unhinged in the best way possible.
But an independent woman also knows when she needs someone.”
“Yeah, you know what they say. Give me five margaritas . . .”
Does Claire really think I never called her? That I didn’t want her? I’ve spent the past two months thinking about nothing but her. I deleted the apps. I ignored the texts, the pages from women. I shut myself off from sex and dating completely—all because I couldn’t get her out of my head.
“You’re not a mess,” I insist, hoping she believes me. “You’re a force of nature, pretty girl. A goddamn category four hurricane. And you know what? I’m a storm chaser.”
“Anyone who tells you that you’re too much needs to go find less. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”
“I’ll make up for all of the days that you spent thinking I didn’t want you. You won’t ever question my intentions again, because your entire body will feel me every time you walk. Every move you make will reinforce that you are, unequivocally, the only thing that I want.”
Anyone can shoot off a text, but a handwritten note says you value the other person more than your time. And I do—I value Claire more than anything.
The biggest issue is that Parker trusted me to look after Claire. And I fully intend to continue doing that. But, I also plan on fucking her silly—which is why I need to have a conversation with him before I take this any further.
Every decision we make in life, whether it’s one we make ourselves, or one that someone else makes for us, leads us to the exact place we are supposed to be.
“Would you believe it if I said that Beau is the best roommate I’ve ever had?” I gush, thinking of the little gestures he performs daily. It’s astonishing, really, how he manages to find the time and energy to show he cares in such meaningful ways. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he’s real.
“Thank you, Mrs. Callaway,” I respond. “I’ve actually decided to go back to school and become a nurse.”
Don’t chicken out. Anyone whose favorite candy is Swedish fish is just a big softie.
If we were ever parents, I would one hundred percent be the fun one, and Beau would be the disciplinarian because that’s exactly how it goes with Frosty.
