Headstrong Like Us (Like Us, #6)

by Krista Ritchie

I said I did at the start of this conversation. And I reach into my back pocket, and I pass him a Philly Aquatic Center business card. Flipping it, Donnelly reads the question scribbled on the back. He stares at the words for a long quiet beat. Not much silences Paul Donnelly. “Shocked?” I smile. Donnelly glances up. “Just thinking how nuts you are. You took in a white trash baby and now you want white trash as your best man.” He never says white trash like he’s ashamed. He’s unashamed about almost everything. He just says it like it’s a fact. A statement. So I don’t need to assuage his feelings that aren’t hurt. But make no mistake: I’ve cold-cocked fuckers for calling him white trash as a dig. The corner of my mouth hikes. “Is that a yes?” “Fuck yes.” Donnelly smirks more. “You asking Oscar too or what?” “To be a groomsman.” I nod. “But I only have one best man.” That rocks him back. “What?” His eyes redden, more overwhelmed. “Really?” It had to be Donnelly. Only Donnelly. As much as Oscar means to me, he has a brother and a sister. Donnelly has no one, and he’s willing to take scraps and share. And fuck, I just didn’t want him to have to share this. “Yeah.” I smile and stick a piece of gum in my mouth. “You’re an infection I can’t rid.” He laughs and rubs his eye. “You should call a doctor. Get that taken care of.” I chew slowly, still smiling. “I am a doctor.” “You must not be very good then, man.”

God, I am so ready for his books