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February 9 - February 11, 2025
“What do your parents say about this?” “Nothing. They love him. He’s the Password Child.”
“I’ll be better once you make me forget.”
“Just because there’s no candlelight, or wine, or a cabin in a snowstorm doesn’t mean it’s not real. We don’t need the clichés.”
I was eighty-three percent sure we both tasted funky.
Her panties were gone. So was my self-control.
“I’m not leaving you without clothes and with blood between your legs.”
This was not how I wanted our first time to be. I wanted cuddles, and spooning, and nauseatingly romantic movies. But there’d be time for all of that. Soon.
“You hate golf. You always said it’s the most boring sport in the world.” “Second most boring sport in the world,” he countered. “Nothing is more boring than curling. It’s basically like watching people wipe the floor in slow-mo.”
“Those bastards aren’t worth your sneezes’ bacteria.”
“The bigger the expectations, the bigger the failure.”
The three of them—thick as thieves—paraded around Potomac like little menaces with freakish IQs and even freakier penchants for trouble.
Ollie vB: EXCUSE ME? Two seconds? The last time I texted you, you left me on READ for a week. And you reply within two seconds for this? Dallas Costa: It’s a free burrito! Ollie vB: And you’re a billionaire.
“My fiancé better not be hiding trafficked exotic animals in there.”
“I make babies cry.” “Babies are crybabies. Don’t pay attention to them. They’re little drama queens.”
“Villains are just misunderstood heroes.”
“Boundaries,” he cut me off. “Respect them, or next time, I won’t let you in.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d want your company.” “Considering Ollie is my main intellectual competition, and he is always a fart away from a poop joke, I think it is safe to say you’ll be visiting here often.”
“Intelligence means jack shit if you don’t know how to use it.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve been done with this conversation for thirty minutes now.” “I’ve only been here for fifteen minutes.”
“We’ll have fun.” “Highly doubt it.”
Relying on Dallas to do anything is only slightly less risky than relying on Nixon with the keys to a loaded vault.
Are you hiding the fact that you’re smart from us, Oliver?
It’s hardly a job. My family can’t fire me.
If Dallas ruins her, I am suing you for emotional damage.
It will be a cold day in hell when Oliver von Bismarck walks down an aisle that doesn’t belong in a Walgreens to buy some more lube.
“Dallas? Red flags? She’s perfectly normal.”
“If you were a nipple clamp, where would you hide?”
“Doesn’t matter. In my humble opinion, you can never let your man get complacent.”
“God created man so he would be ignored. It’s literally in the bible.” “Is that in the King James Version or the New American?”
“How do you like your sausages, Briar?” “On the pig they belong to.”
“If I weren’t so traumatized by the third-degree tear in my vagina from Luca, I’d be pregnant just from hearing that.”
“We’ve got charm. We don’t need keycards.”
Holy shit, that is a cute baby that does not at all look like a potato with a diaper and an attitude. (Am I doing this right?)
@RomeoCosta, tell your wife to answer my calls before I burn down your fucking fridge.
Dallas hopped up and down, giggling as if I didn’t have every intention of strangling her with my bare hands. The only thing stopping me was the fact that her psychotic husband fired missiles from tanks just for funsies.
Already, they did not agree with my unilateral decision to drain the giant pond they considered to be the focal point of our golf course. I had to, however, on account of the fact that MY FIANCÉE ALMOST LOST HER LIFE IN IT.
“The fact that you kidnapped my fiancée?” “Kidnapped is such a strong word.”
“Then, I prefer the term ‘passionate embrace.’” “Instead of what?” “Instead of ‘strangling,’ which is what I’m about to do to you.”
“I never thought you were capable of caring for anything that wasn’t the next parking lot for your peen.”
“Inside jokes are like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. You never know when to stop.”
The truth slipped out like a dick pic accidentally sent into a group chat within a bunch of attachments. (Lesson learned. Send one photo at a time.)
You do not cross me when it comes to this woman. You do not put her at risk. You do not make stupid, reckless decisions. She is my ward. My responsibility. Mine to protect.” I glanced between them. “Am I clear?”
Feel free to aim for the Mississippi. I hear E. coli is nice and toxic this time of year.
“Coked up?” He jerked his eyes away from the cloudy skies. “Cuddlebug, that’s gluten-free flour. I take it everywhere I go because restaurants are shit about celiacs.”
“No, Dallas wouldn’t know that. She’s as knowledgeable as a fucking toddler, just not half as cute.”
You’re in for a smooth ride.” He moved his tongue inside his mouth. “There’s a sexual innuendo there, by the way.”
“Just to be clear…are you mad at me because I showed up at your little girls tour or because we own a private jet?” Valid question.
It was kind of romantic, in an enough-red-flags-to-be-mistaken-for-a-carnival kind of way.
“Last I checked, Dallas brought you here on a private jet, not a broom.”
“She’s my friend. One day, I hope to appeal to her common sense—” “Good luck finding it.”
