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Like a homing beacon, her hot, hockey-coach giant of a husband hears his name and zeroes in on his wife. “You kicking me out of bed, red?” “Depends . . . Can you do what she just did?” she challenges, and the smile splashing across Deacon’s face is filthy, which has me quickly looking away.
The kind of girl squad most teenage girls—hell, most grown women—dream of. The kind that cheers the loudest for you, even if you’re not around to hear it. Who protects your name in rooms you’re not in.
But somewhere between then and now, Nixon grew into a seventh circle of Hell hot man.
This town makes Gossip Girl look like Sesame Street in comparison.
This woman is my sisters’ best friend, which makes her part of my circle. And I protect what’s mine.
🥰🥰🥰
Kenzie takes another small step into my side, and that bad fucking feeling grows. Guess that’s going to be my excuse for what I’m about to do. Couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that this girl was the first girl I ever crushed on before I even knew all the ways I wanted to make her scream my fucking name.
“Scared? Of Dr. Dick?” she scrunches her nose. “Dr. Dick?” I ask, laughing as it dawns on me . . . Richardson . . . Dick. “Dr. Dick. That’s perfect for that douche.”
Your**
Bellamy opens her mouth to interrupt, but I put my finger up. “Nope. Still my turn.”
My dog isn’t what’s considered a sporty dog. His happy activity level is moving between nap spots.
Nixon’s hand skims up my neck, and his callused thumb brushes along my jaw, sending delicious shivers dancing down my skin. “Baby, if you want to play with safe words, we can leave now.”
The scream I screamed
“Makes sense then. Sadly though, you’re not going to find me in bed with any woman. Beautiful or otherwise. Vagina is my day job. Not my night one.”
You wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you and my sister, Sinclair?” Jumping right in. I can respect that. Still not gonna tell him shit, but I can respect it.
Whatever you want, you can have. It might not be easy, but the best things never are.”
What he never realized was that, even as kids, we knew his shoes would be impossible to fill. It was easier to find our own.
Crying is not a sign of weakness. Since the minute you were born it’s been a sign of life.
He’s huge. I’m in medicine, and it feels ridiculously safe to say Nixon Sinclair has his fair share and everyone else’s share too.
😂🤭🤡☠️
“You ready for me, baby?” It’s the baby that does it for me.
I guess maybe I wasn’t broken after all. I was just waiting for Nixon Sinclair to come along and ruin me for all other men.
He’s impressive, and he’s not even erect. Wait. I’m mad at him.
“Arms in the air, Mac.” I lift my arms over my head, wondering where in the world he’s going with this until he strips the hoodie and shirt off my body, then sits me on the bed as he stands and steps into his closet. He comes back out holding an old Boston University hockey tee that he slides down over my body. “When you’re in my room, you wear my name.”
🥰🥰🥰🥰💕🥰💕🥰💕🥰💕🥰🥰💕🤣
“But don’t go thinking you’re fucking me, Mac. It doesn’t matter what position we’re in. Your orgasms are mine.”
Sweet baby Jesus lolololol
“Baby steps, Mackenzie. You’re here. That’s a start. Give me baby steps, and I’ll give you everything I have.”
Crying
“Because I’ve got to tell you, sixteen-year-old me, would have jizzed his pants if he knew one day Mackenzie Hayes would be his girlfriend.” “Oh yeah?” She kisses one corner of my mouth, then the other before she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor. “What would sixteen-year-old Nixon have done if he knew he was about to get to touch my boobs?” “He sure as hell wouldn’t have had a clue what to do with them.” I lick into her mouth, dinner long forgotten, and she pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “Guess it’s a good thing I waited for you then, Sinclair.”
My biggest flex in life is I already know my soulmate. All four of them, actually, and they’ve been my best friends for fifteen years. Ten out of ten, recommend.
Everly Eww. That’s my brother. Lindy Yup. And your brother likes pussy, sweetie. Time to build a bridge and get over it.
😂😂😂😂😂😝☠️
In a world full of twat waffles, be French toast.
Note to self—showering together does not save time. That’s a myth.
“An apology should never contain the word but,
‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
Lindy gets up and kisses my cheek. “Try not to die. I’d be a terrible prison wife.” She turns to her husband and cups his cheek. “And you . . . Try to remember that you love your sister, and she’s happy. And if you’re going to fight him, do not fuck up my hydrangeas. They look pretty.”
He cracks the box open to show me a beautiful brilliant-cut, platinum solitaire, and in typical Nixon fashion, it’s gigantic.
“I just put you on speaker, and Nixon’s here with me, FYI.” “Fuck face,” Easton greets Nixon. “Dickhead,” Nixon responds, and I look between my future husband and my brother’s name on my screen. “I guess you guys got over your shit?” I ask both of them as Jules and Becks knock on my door. “Yup. We both agreed if he hurts you, he dies,” Easton answers, and I shake my head and hand Nixon the phone before I answer the door.
“You’re a lucky man to have found her, son. And she’s a lucky woman to be loved by you.
“Thanks for letting me walk you down the aisle,” Easton manages to say as he hides his emotion behind a cough. Becket moves in next to Easton and takes my arm in his, dapper as ever in his beautiful black tux. “She asked me first,” Becks teases Easton. “She’s just letting you hold her other arm so she doesn’t have to hear you whine about it forever.”
