Where It Begins
I accidentally grabbed the wrong drink at the coffee shop. On the upside, the hot guy it belonged to chased me down to kindly swap with me. On the down side, the reason I grabbed the wrong drink in the first place is because the hot guy had just caught me checking out his ass…sets.
In my defense, his rear view is rather magnificent.
In true, humiliating form, I word-vomited a bunch of horrible nonsense. Including an unnecessary explanation of the trauma I’d evaded thanks to his chasing me down. Nothing could ruin my lactose-intolerant day faster than my one true nemesis: dairy.
I did not expect him to ask me out on a date after that.
I also didn’t expect the date to go well since my tendency to truth-vomit is high, and not everyone finds that quality endearing.
But apparently he does. Because he asks me out again.
And again.
Sidney Butterson (yes, it’s a weird last name) ticks all my boxes.
He's smart, he's funny, he's employed and he's ridiculously hot.
There’s one catch.
We’re both single parents. With teens.
And if our kids don’t like each other?
Well, we’re doomed.
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