Jilted

by Vi Keeland

I grabbed one of the bats we kept behind the bar and lifted it to my shoulder. “He’s got Parkinson’s, asshole. You don’t like it, get the fuck out.”

I can see why you don’t have a hard time getting women. The bullshit flows easily.”

“What do you love about this place?” she asked. “I mean, aside from how beautiful it is?” I shrugged. “That’s a good question. I don’t know really. I guess I like it because it’s been destroyed so many times, and yet it never falls.” Sloane nodded. “Yeah. It feels … hopeful.”

“I want a slew of them. All boys. Enough to build my own rugby squad.” “You better watch it. God has a funny sense of humor when you say things like that. You’ll wind up with eight girls.”

“Fair warning, Cupcake. When I come into your room—not if, but when—the gentleman in me will be staying at the door.”

“You fell off the horse—or in Josh’s case, the jackass—and now you’re afraid to get back on. I understand that. I really do. But, honey, this isn’t another donkey. This is a fucking unicorn we’re talking about. They don’t come around very often.”

“Now that is tempting…” “So do it. Listen to Nike and just fucking do it.” “I don’t think Nike said it exactly like that.” “They should have.”

“Sometimes we say what we mean, even when we don’t mean to, honey.”