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He runs a hand down his tie, finally noticing the dark stain I’ve spent half this meeting trying to identify. Ketchup? Soy sauce? Chocolate? His frown makes me wonder if he even knows its origin. Gross.
You know what’s hard to take seriously? A lawyer with a last name like Pebbles. That’s what.
And when you compare getting married to stay in the country to something like selling drugs or robbing a bank, it’s hardly even a crime. Not if you grade crime on a curve.
could be so expensive? Now, Gran has her own room. Likely because of that incident. Or perhaps the one where she knocked Mr. Winters off his motorized scooter and stole it, making a break for the emergency exit.
was the mental image of Gran tooling down the road with the Dolly Teased Mullet Bangs wig—the only appropriate one for an assisted living jailbreak, IMHO—blowing in the wind as she fled.
I’m in my spinster era. Every twentysomething has one of those, right?
Yup
The only thing that saves me from disappearing into a pit in the floor is Eli’s smile. A real one. Slow and warm like melted cheese—ew, no! Not cheese. Like melted caramel—better.
“Sorry. I’m just, um, thinking.” About you shirtless and with a purple horse body.
Kiss him like the centaur-unicorn of my dreams, perhaps?
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Eli says, finally. “And the kind words. But I still don’t think this is something you can help with.” He stops, then meets and holds my gaze with an intensity that freezes me in place. “That is,” he continues, those blue eyes blazing, “unless you want to marry me.”
Caught in the embarrassing and unlikely situation wherein a handsome man makes a statement—or a joke?—about marriage, then you inhale your own spit and almost die.
I’m fine, really, or Just leave me here to die.
“There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than give a cat a bath right now.”
“Let the great wife hunt commence!”
“I’ve been called worse,” Van says, looking pleased with himself. “What’s incorrigible mean?” “Google it,” I tell him.
We scuffle, and I shoot Bailey an apologetic look from under Van’s armpit, which is not a location I ever want to
But my eyes are drawn to her bare legs. I tell myself not to ogle. Even though they’re absolutely ogle-worthy. Ogle-able. Ogle-icious. Anyway. No ogling. Nogling.
“Ignore him. He was raised in a cave by trolls.”
Chronic-Ills of Narnia? Get it—chronic ills? Chronicles? Such a missed opportunity.”
“I am of the opinion that if you really want something, you sometimes have to make your own luck, even if it’s risky.”
“You say conniving and nosy but all I hear is caring and concerned,”
Like, you might not think you’d rob a Wendy’s for a Frosty and some cheesy bacon fries … but spend a few weeks stranded on a desert island with only coconuts for sustenance, and you might change your mind about thievery. That’s just one hypothetical.
“Who’s taking care of you, Bailey?” Eli’s words settle over me, soft as snowfall, only warm not cold. “No one,” I murmur. “I could,” Eli says, and now I’m really not sure if I’m dreaming. Because this is the exact kind of thing I wish someone would tell me. “I would.”
did my homework,” he says. I don’t miss the way his fingertips drag over mine as I take the stapled pages. “Do I get a gold star?” “We don’t have gold stars. Only dog treats. Want one for being such a good boy?”
Dog on a dead bird enjoyment.
I will not be a grown woman crying in the lobby of an animal shelter over candy. I will not. “Don’t look too closely. It was my first time wielding a glue gun.” “You used a glue gun? For me?”
“But whose name will be on the back of my jersey?” His face darkens, and it only makes me push more. “Maybe Van? He’s a fun guy.” Eli’s heated look turns molten, and he shakes his head slowly. “Mine,” he says firmly, his low voice wrapping like a fist around my heart. “You can only wear my name.”
like one from someone named Wyatt, which makes me snicker: I don’t know Eli well, but he seems like a good guy. (And if he’s not, I will not be held liable or in any way legally culpable for his actions.)
My throat gets a little tight when I read Van’s message: This guy would do anything for people he loves. Anything. Count yourself lucky if you fall into that category. And whatever you do, don’t hurt my boy. Surprisingly tender, coming from the guy who hit on both Shannon and Jenny the other night, plus flirted with the snack bar attendant at the bowling alley, a random woman in the parking lot, and the group of older women in the lane next to us. Maybe some of that’s just for show? Or maybe Van is a ladies’ man who has some hidden depth.
I’ve found one of the hardest things about losing people you care about is the guilt of remembering the things they weren’t so great at. Thinking about their flaws and disappointments makes me feel like a traitor.
Gran hate watches. Back in the day, before we had to take away her internet access due to her excessive trolling and one tiny bomb threat,
“Always wear waterproof mascara,” Gran says. “You never know when someone’s going to break your heart.”
I wish I didn’t know who Blippi is, but I do. And now he’ll be joining us on our date
I look like Big Bird’s pregnant albino girlfriend.
“Also, why didn’t you tell me your hot sister’s in town?” Van asks. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be one of those overprotective brothers.” I laugh. “No. Have at it. Annie will chew you up and spit you out. We’ll find your remains scattered over three states.” The guys laugh at this, but I’m only half kidding.
Beautiful, beautiful Bailey. How did I ever think she was just pretty? Not even that, but the kind of pretty I didn’t react to but noticed like I might appreciate a waterfall or a nice sunset.
person. Just drops his bags, plucks Doris from my hands, and starts up the stairs, cooing in her ear like she’s not the canine embodiment of a portable toilet.
Thanks. It’s nice to know you find me incredibly sexy, Leelee.
Pictures of Eli with the guys, him on a bus, him in the locker room. I’m sure he didn’t realize in one of those there was at least one guy in the process of taking off his pants. There are also memes and GIFs and jokes. He even started using punctuation for me!
“And I’m not being dramatic. I’m concussed. Can we turn off the lights?” “They’re off. That’s called the sun, dude. Good morning.”
“It’s like a clown car. But a hospital room full of hockey players.”
