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For the ones with gentle souls and hearts made of gold.
The best part of my job is being in charge of entitled men who think they’re better than me because they have a dick.
A month after her diagnosis, Clark left us. He told me he didn’t sign up to raise a child who is “different.” He didn’t want to put in “the work” it would take for her to be happy and taken care of, and the last thing he would ever do is learn sign language.
What a piece of shit
“I’m heading to the bookstore this afternoon, then it’s back to searching for a chef who won’t quit after two weeks.”
A BOOKGUYYYYY
At thirty-one, I’ve been doing this long enough to know the following is part of the job.
“Let’s drop it. The more I think about it, the more tempted I am to live off ramen for the rest of my career.
Some trick the universe is playing on me, because how do you go from finding your mom in the stands at every game to learning she has stage four breast cancer after a routine doctor’s visit to burying her five months later?
That's Fucking rough man
Gus and Millie,”
Awwwww
“I’m most attracted to her when she wants to kick my ass.”
“You’re married now, Mavvy. Pretty sure you’re wise enough. I’m here if you ever want to talk. I have your back, just like you have mine.”
“I thought there would be a lot more dick jokes. Frankly, I’m disappointed.”
Lmao
A week of job searching has left me empty-handed and on the brink of joining OnlyFans.
Same fam
every day I’m closer to selling pictures of my feet on the internet.
Same
The Stars are Lucy’s favorite hockey team,
“Liam Sullivan. The goalie. He’s allergic to having a good time, and I’ll do anything to push his buttons.
“We all deserve the chance to be happy.
At six two and almost a foot taller than her, she’s going to have to work harder than that to get me to go anywhere.
“Did you set me up on a blind date? My shirt has a hole in it, Piper. That’s not how I make a good first impression. And I didn’t bring wine. Flowers. Anything.”
I swear I haven’t seen her before. I’d remember her if I did. There’s a blue apron tied around her waist. Her dark hair is long and falls halfway down her back. A dusting of freckles sits on the bridge of her nose, and her eyes are brown, big and wide. She’s shorter than me, probably five seven or so, with curves like an hourglass.
I can be Hudson Hayes, the dog dad who goes to bed at nine every night and prefers to stay out of the limelight.
“I mean, how wild is it that she’s here when you are?” “What are the chances?” I draw out, knowing a setup when I see it.
“Delicious is an understatement,”
“That’s right. You’re the blond one.” “Thank you?” “Sorry. I’m not a fan, to be honest.” “Of blond hair?” “Of sports.
“Is she hot?” “I’m not answering that question.” “Classic deflection. Means she is.”
“For you, Mom,” I say to the empty room. “Always for you.” One of the overhead lights flickers, and I laugh. “Yeah. I know you’re here. You wouldn’t miss this. Sometimes I can still hear you yelling at me to get the rebound.” I pause, my shoulders heavy and my eyes wet with tears. “Fuck. I miss you, Mama.”
Sobbing
“Good?” he asks. “Yeah. You know you don’t have to wait for me.” “You’ve been saying that for years, man. When have I ever listened?” “Never.”
“And I love you for it.”
“Love you too, Huddy Boy.” Maverick grins and throws an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go kick some ass.”
“What was with the penalty you got earlier? I saw you chirping that dude.” “He liked one of Emmy’s photos on Instagram last week, and it pissed me off. The hit was worth the two-minute timeout I got in the sin bin.” “You’re joking.” “Nope.” “You might be the most deranged man I’ve ever met.” “Nah. Just an idiot in love.”
I’ve never been drawn to blond men, but he’s an anomaly. From the deep blue eyes and the scruff of his well-trimmed beard to his shaggy hair and the way he holds himself like he commands the attention of everyone in the room, Hudson Hayes has me curious.
My birthday was back in July.
I’m going to say you look twenty-eight, but you’re really thirty-three.”
“I was going to get your name tattooed on my ass, but I’ll hold off until next month,”
“Bonus points for your humor, Madeline. And thank you for being so kind.”
“Those were the rules, right? I like to follow instructions.”
Me Will do. Thanks, hockey guy. Hudson You’re welcome, knife girl.
“It’s true,” he says, but he follows it up by kissing her forehead. They’re so in love, it’s like they’re in their own little world. “It’s cute, though.”
“The mouse in the living room really makes it feel like a home.”
It was all surface level stuff, though. I’ve never really had a friend.
snorts. “We all know Hudson is a please and thank you kind of man, even when he’s fu—” “Let’s save the talk about my personal life for later,” Hudson cuts in,
“please.”
“We don’t know each other,” I say. “What do you want to know?” “You could have a foot fetish.” “I don’t have a foot fetish.” “You could be a murderer.” “I don’t have enough free time to be a murderer, and I saw how good you are with knives. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”
“I do. Have a good day, Hudson.” “Later, knife girl,”
He gives me a wave and flips his hat backward before walking toward us. Jesus Christ. Shit like that should be illegal for men to do in public.
He smiles again. I swear this man is always smiling. A sunshine boy who’s never sad.
“Not exactly. It’s not lost on me you’re an attractive professional athlete.” Madeline rolls her eyes. “Okay. Wipe that grin off your face. You know what you look like.”
“Never. I like relationships. Meaningful conversations. Getting to know a person before I take off their clothes.
“You’re making these from scratch?” I lift an eyebrow. “You thought I was going to use a boxed mix?” “I did, and I’m learning it was a wildly offensive assumption. Forgive me, chef.”
“I know everything about everyone on this team. People think they can keep a secret, but nothing gets past me.”
“Her daughter?” It’s Maverick’s turn to gasp. “Holy shit. Huddy Boy is in loveeee.”
