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“Go ahead. She won’t stop nagging until you do. She’s powered by gay tears.”
Calder had spent the next ten or so hours in his apartment having a staring contest with the creature, now convinced it was more muppet than canine. It clearly had an unfair advantage as Calder was almost positive the dog’s eyes were looking in different directions, which made him feel unsafe somehow.
“You fucked his wife…and his son.” Yep. There it was. What could he say? “Not at the same time?”
I submit that I’m being unfairly targeted and punished not because I fuck our clients but because I just refuse to marry all of them afterward, and honestly, it’s starting to feel a bit like discrimination.”
“Assaulting a police officer? Angel face in there? The kid is the personification of a basket of kittens. What did he assault him with? Kindness?” Linc’s lips twitched as he tried to keep a straight face. “A twelve-inch black dildo known as the ‘hole wrecker.’”
“Get thee behind me, hooker Barbie. I have no time for your forked tongue today.
“Oh, sweetie. If we were villagers, you’d be the first one we’d chuck into a volcano to appease the gods.”
“There’s something about this kid that’s got you by the short ones, which I have to admit, I find…amusing.”
Robby shrugged. “I know what it’s like to be invisible, for nobody to want you. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him living the rest of his life feeling unloved.”
This was his life now. Overrun and bossed around by two twinks and a scary brunette with no filter.
“Why’d you have to pick that kid?” Calder looked towards the closed door. “How could I not? He’s…perfect.” Linc slammed his fist on his desk. “You know what? Fine. But I want you to know that I now owe Wyatt a thousand fucking dollars and I’m taking it out of your yearly fucking bonus. You know how smug he’s going to be about this? I hope this kid’s worth it.”
“Uh, can it wait, like, two hours? I’m balls deep in the financials for the Delaney case and I’m just about to make them scream my name.”
“Angel, I love you, too, but I have to tell you, you have a flair for being dramatic.”
“Places aren’t home, angel. People are.”
“It’s normal, you know,” Ever said before clarifying, “To be all over the place, emotionally. Like, sometimes, even if you didn’t like the person, you cry because you’ll never have the opportunity to fix it. You cry because maybe you had the opportunity and you didn’t do anything, or maybe somebody stole that opportunity from you. But none of that matters to the dead, you know. No matter what you believe, their troubles are over. Whether it's because they are just gone or whether you think they’re chilling on some white fluffy cloud in Heaven, the only one whose feelings matter are yours.”
