Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)

by Avery Keelan

I’m not sure everyone gets to have that kind of love, though. Sometimes I think I’m too much to be someone’s One. Too loud, too disorganized, too extra, too messy.

My father treated my mother like a queen. I’m not about to

drop my standards for some guy named Tripp who can’t be bothered to change an empty toilet paper roll.

“Have you ever heard of the internet meme that says, ‘In every partnership, there’s a person who stacks the dishwasher like a Scandinavian architect and a person who stacks the dishwasher like a raccoon on meth’?”

“I mean this in the nicest possible way, Ser, but you’re the meth raccoon in this scenario.”

“Question seventeen,” Seraphina murmurs. “Do you ever think about that night?” “All the fucking time.” I’m not a big believer in sugarcoating the truth. Plus, I think it’s pretty obvious. “Me too.” Her throat bobs, her warm brown eyes searching mine. “Do you regret it? I mean, it’s made things kind of complicated now.” Complicated is an understatement. Ever since she moved in, it’s been like navigating a minefield. The more time we spend together, the closer I come to doing something I shouldn’t. “No, Tink. I could never regret you.”