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I was starving, I had to use the bathroom, and I was in shapewear. Basically the grand finale to the worst week ever.
It was like trying to get out of a full-body compression sock while being timed for speed.
“So lookin’ hot. I’m gonna stay on the phone with you in case you get murdered.”
“Yeah, well, we’re all strong-ass women until a smoke alarm starts chirping at three a.m. on a high ceiling and there’s no one to hit it with a broom but you.”
“Your kid is a baby goat? In pajamas?”
“I keep telling him his Tinder profile could be nothing but a picture of Chloe and an address.”
I’d bought a very nice vibrator and I’d retired myself from the pool at thirty-seven.
get to decide what to do with my ill-gotten gains. That’s how ill-gotten gains work.”
“Well, I don’t have any dinosaur chicken nuggets if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
“You won’t have to. But I believe you. You look violent.”
But if I was under the impression that I was in a relationship with someone and I came home to find them making a grilled cheese for another woman, I would not be happy.”
It was six-thirty in the morning, I had one shoe on, my hair was a tangled mess, I was caked in mud and farm animal fur, and I was wearing a hoodie I’d stolen on the way out.
I’d had a one-night stand with a total stranger, who was a decade younger than me.
Whatever it was, there was so much of it that it sucked my shoe right off my foot and I left it like a lizard shedding its tail to make its escape.
“Okay. You’re having a midlife crisis. I’ve seen this before. We can get you help.”
The guy had a baby goat in pajamas and—” He put up a hand. “Say no more, that explains everything.”
It was like Dad just found out the most useless princess had ascended the throne.
Bri wouldn’t pee on Neil if he was on fire after what he’d put me through the last couple of years.
“Good. I hope his dick shrivels up and falls off. For real.”
“Because there are two types of people in the world, difficult ones and easy ones, and they marry each other.”
Last week I had a guy bring me funeral flowers. Like, they were a cross and they had a picture of the dead guy in the middle.”
You do not need to marry this man. You can just use him for sex. You are aware of this option?”
“Scott Eastwood in The Longest Ride, only with a beard. Oh, and he had a baby goat in pajamas.” “He didn’t.” “He did.” Her eyes were wide. “I’d follow a clown into a storm drain if he had a baby goat in pajamas.”
“So you came home in a muddy two-thousand-dollar dress wearing one shoe and your fuck buddy’s camo hoodie.” I nodded. “That is correct.” “Like an Old MacDonald walk of shame. Did you have hay in your hair?”
“You can say anything you need to say to her in front of me, Wreck-It Ralph,” Bri said. “She’s gonna tell me everything anyway. Saves her from having to do the sleazebag accent.”
“Look at that man-trum. Eight thousand nerves in the clitoris and still not as sensitive as a white man not getting his way.” She beamed at me. “I like this new you.”
I felt like I’d frightened away some beautiful creature I’d never lay my eyes on again.
The other thing was just a hoodie.” She laughed. “Can I mail it to you?” I shook my head. “Nope. Not fast enough. I’m gonna need that back immediately. Tonight preferably. I can come get it, just give me your address.” “Tonight, huh?” “Definitely. Poor hoodie, confused and lost. You’re probably keeping it in a dark closet.” “Oh, no, your hoodie has been very well cared for, I promise you.” I smiled. “Are you wearing it?” “Well, you don’t steal a hoodie and not wear it. Otherwise it’s just another senseless crime.”
“Okay, first of all, that pig has a name. It’s Kevin Bacon. It’s rude not to use it.”
“Well, there’s Scape Goat—that’s Chloe’s mom. Chloe’s full name is Chloe Nose Bleat.” I ticked off on my fingers. “The chickens are Mother Clucker and Chick-a-Las Cage, there’s Barack O-Llama, the miniature horse is Al Capony—” She howled. I grinned. “The rabbits are Rabbit Downey Jr. and Obi Bun Kenobi—”
My set of friends didn’t know people with tattoos. Or beards. Or goats.
“You think I saved you from the raccoon ditch the other night just to murder you now?
“Princess Bride,” she said quickly. “As you wish.”
“Unless I make you too tired to walk the short distance from the garage to the house. Which you should know is my goal.” His dimples popped. “Also, this place is haunted. I wouldn’t sleep here alone.” He made a fake scared face.
Daniel somehow managed to be charming and completely down-to-earth while also exuding pure sex. It was the most baffling combination. And one I wasn’t capable of refusing.
People love putting stuff up their butts. And they always want you to think they fell on it in the shower. About fifty percent of my job is keeping a straight face.”
“Grace costs you nothing. My grandma used to say it. She especially liked to say it to herself when I was being a little shit.”
You know, reading makes your penis look bigger—don’t quote me on it, the science is really new.”
Well, just remember not to name his penis. Once you name it, you get attached.”
Hunter made a pitiful rooooing noise from outside like being banished was some sort of torture I’d just inflicted upon him for no reason.
I wondered how much sex I’d need to have with him for him to actually satiate this need he seemed to bring out of me. I kinda wanted to figure it out. Seemed like a fun experiment…
There was something infinitely sexy about a man who could build things. And cook things. When he started to sauté the onions and garlic, I think I fell a little bit in love.
“This is how you die in the zombie apocalypse,” she said with wonder. “I always thought it would be an infected zombie bite or exposure or something, but it’s this. You get a caffeine headache on the first day and you lose your will to live and you just lie down and they eat you.”
I used to be so worn down from his mood swings and so desperate for any bit of kindness from him that I’d just give in. I’d just let it go, let him get away with it. I’d thank him for the flowers or act excited about the expensive vacation he’d booked instead of actually saying he was sorry. I’d eat the quiche.
It was like the more distance I got from this relationship, the stronger I became, and standing up to him was getting easier and easier.
I realized, almost in that moment, that I really didn’t want him to see other people either. Even the thought of him hugging someone else launched me into an internal fit of jealousy so sudden it shocked me.
I wondered distantly if we’d known each other in a former life and we’d found each other again. If that’s why he was so familiar…
But most of all I was glad there was nobody else, because the idea of it made me feel fucking unhinged.
This wasn’t good. I knew it wasn’t good. Nothing good ever comes out of “we need to talk.”
No matter what she did, Jake would win. Neil was still winning too, in a hundred different ways. Sometimes it feels like the bad guys always do.
