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“What’s your favorite book?” Doubt colors my voice. “If you have a favorite, I don’t trust you. Any book lover has at least five they can name off the top of their head.” His blue eyes hold mine.
“A man who prefers to live in a fantasy. How cute.” “I’d be your best fantasy, no book needed.”
“You’re no princess. You’re a motherfucking queen. Don’t let anyone forget it, not even yourself. People think the king matters, but the queen brings down all the other pieces. Good luck in uni and chug a beer in my honor.”
Men should be the least of his worries because, excuse my language, but I’m ready to fuck shit up.
As the night progresses, I discover two types of people who do karaoke. The first group of individuals takes their singing very seriously. They choose songs to serenade to, either of the sultry R&B variety or heart-wrenching country songs. The second type chooses to sing songs from an era of nineties boy bands. Performances include a dance number with poorly executed attempts at synchronized moves after one too many tequila shots.
Exhibit A: Claudia McCoy Exhibit B through Z: everyone else he’s hooked up with over the years
My car zooms past his before I cut in front of him, the dirty air messing with his speed, pushing him into third place.
“Dirty air” 😏
People underestimate the physical exhaustion that comes with driving these cars, with racers sweating worse than a husband filing for a divorce without a prenup.
“You know what happens when you go on one date? It ends with two dates, and then three, and next thing I know, TMZ is featuring an ugly picture of me leaving a hotel claiming I’m pregnant with Liam’s love child.”
Alrighty then. I’ll take Sore Subject for two hundred, please.
“I’m sorry. Santi chose to steal a cart from a twenty-year-old security officer who used to be on the Junior Olympics for track or something. His old teammate from Kulikov slipped by without getting caught.”
“I hope your ego can handle a blow here and there because I plan on winning.” I gaze into Liam’s eyes. “There are few things I like blown, and that’s not one of them.”
Meryl Streep better hold on tight to her Oscar at night. I’m coming for it.
Never in my life did I think I could be led by lust, but here I am, striving to look half dead to deter the sexiest man in F1.
“Everyone knows the books are better than the movies or TV shows.” “Says who?” “Says everyone who reads books!”
“But remember this. I want to get to know all of you, including the parts you’re too scared to share. I want to learn about the man no one else knows. So give me every part of you because I’m not here to piece you back together. I like you too much, just the way you are, broken parts and all.”
“That’s my fear with someone like you. You take and take until I have nothing left to give. You’d be easy to fall in love with until you walk away, breaking my heart in the process.”
If I didn’t think Liam was a secret nerd before, the fact that he travels with three different books in his carry-on backpack should’ve sealed the deal.
Call me cultured AF.
“That’s good because my cereal has enough green food coloring to carry me through the day.”
Butterflies be damned because Liam is too naughty for that. Being around him feels more like hornets wreaking havoc inside of me as they try to escape.
Screw platonic, I want catastrophic.
We sit on the couch in our PJs and fuzzy socks, the epitome of attractiveness. The only two men we can count on during this lifetime are Ben and Jerry.
“Not really. Mind repeating it, love?”
Gosh I wish someone would say this to me 😭.
Me: Want to make a bet? Naughty Sophie: Those never end well for all parties involved. Me: Says who? Naughty Sophie: Says the party of one who loses every time.
“Only you could make being a member of a book club sound sexy.”
“Are you a possessive type?” My voice croaks as his fingers grip my waist tightly. “With you? Yes.”
Why do things that feel amazing hurt us the most?
“Will you hold good on the threat? Because I bought you a birthday present that may or may not include a subscription to a life-alert necklace.”
“Quit flirting with my girl.”
And damn if ours turns out to be the ugliest of them all.
Almost like the way Liam finished the last chapter.
McCoy or bust.”
McCoy is like McClaren and Bandini is like Ferrari.
“His father pulled his head out of his ass after I went on a date with another man. He showed up at the restaurant, drenched after standing in the rain watching us. Best date crasher ever.”
“There’s a fine line between love and hate.” “There’s also a fine line between sanity and insanity. Guess which side you’re on.”
“I’m zero percent ready for this.” How fitting, when I was zero percent ready for her. But here I am, about to jump out of a plane because I like this girl and want to take as many firsts from her as I can.
Liking Sophie is kind of like jumping out of a plane. Exhilarating, addicting, and damn near impossible to forget.
Because life is funny that way, fucking you over without your consent.
Hearts don’t shatter because that’d be too easy.
“Listen, something doesn’t seem right here. I don’t know if it’s your bullshit about not loving Sophie or the fact that no other team expressed interest in you besides the bottom ones.
I thought the same thing…
“I like how easy everything feels with her. How we can do absolutely nothing together and it still feels fun. How she smiles at me differently than everyone else because I get to take her home at night. I especially like how she hides behind rules and restrictions when she really craves to be reckless and carefree. I like pulling that side out of her.”
Vulnerability isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength amongst those who are too scared to live.
So, by all means, pick the contract or pick her. But when you do, please ask yourself: if you let her go, can you look yourself in the mirror in your McCoy race suit without flinching? If so, then you really never loved her to begin with.”
Maya: This is your hourly reminder to not bail on me tonight. You won’t like what happens if you do. ☺ Me: Threats work better when you don’t include a smiling emoji.
“How did you know you loved Noah?” Another hiccup escapes my lips. “When it hurt more to be without him than with him.”
Instead, I say my goodbyes before walking away because I have places to go and people to wreck.
Wrecked
“Blink twice if you’re still in love with me.”
And while you were busy staring up at the vast nothingness, I’d watch you while envying a damn sky. A sky for fuck’s sake. But at the time, I didn’t realize I wanted you to look at me that way. With unconditional love.”
“I researched all about stars. And the funny thing was how I thought you were my star—a bright spot in my life keeping me constant company no matter how dark everything else got. But in reality, we’re stars because they are born in pairs. They’re created by a big fucking boom of dust and shit, forming into something beautiful and eternal. You’re stuck with me for life because we’re a duo.”
“And if I say no?” “Then too fucking bad. You can’t deny a cosmic boom.”
Join the mile-high club. Get married. Buy our first Christmas tree. Make a mini Sophie. Design Sophie’s art studio. Spend Christmas in Germany. Fuck Sophie’s backdoor. Buy the house first (see other). Make a mini Liam. Have a quickie while the kids play outside. Visit space (ambitious). Watch our child’s first kart race (either gender because feminism rules). Buy a dog (if you’re a cat person it’s over).
