AllFreeNovel
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Fae’s sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor. She clutches the box of donuts tighter to her chest, racing faster than the situation requires.
I punctuate each of her gallops with an obvious sigh, though I’ve never been happier in my entire damn life.
Farrow has already knocked on Dallas’ suite by the time I slipbeside her. Per usual, Dallas and Romeo’s greeting makes me want to bleach my ears.
Octi barrels past the door before Romeo even manages to get out, “It’s open.”
“Just like my vagina, apparently.” Dallas plucks her blanket up as if we need visual confirmation. “Hey-yo, third-degree tear.”
Kill me now.
Why is this couple so obnoxiously TMI?
I can’t imagine letting anyone near Farrow so soon after giving birth to my child.
But Icanimagine very vividly a situation where she gives birth to our baby.
“Here.” My fiancée deposits the box from Gwenie’s Pastries into Dallas’ eager arms. “Two dozen shakoy donuts, just like you asked. You look amazing.”
She does not look amazing. She looks like she just returned from wrestling a bear. And lost.
But I appreciate how Farrow always has a kind word to spare when it comes to the people she loves.
I bro-hug Romeo, a recent but not unwelcome development. “Congrats.”
“Thanks, man.” I shit you not, the tips of his ears turn red.
I peer around the spacious room. “Speaking of, where’s the baby?”
“The nurses took him to give me some time off.” Dallas shoves a shakoy down her throat. “He’ll be right back, so we can all see him and choose a name.” She boomerangs upright, tossing the donut into Romeo’s chest in order to clap. “I shortlisted it to thirty.”
Yay me.
This will be a long day.
Romeo goes rigid, his palm stopping mid-brush above his crumby shirt. “All?”
With perfect timing, Oliver and Franklin burst through the door without knocking. They wear matching states of dishevelment. Messy hair. Wrinkled clothes. A streak of red lipstick runs down to Frankie’s chin.
My first assumption, of course, is the horizontal tango.
My second is the more unhinged—and therefore, probably correct—option.
And surely enough, a chirp blasts through the air.
No, they did not.
Dallas shovels donuts into her mouth, too busy to notice the state of her two visitors. “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.”
Ollie tucks his shirt into his slacks, clearing his throat. “Pleasure’smine.”
Nobody other than Dallas missesthatinnuendo.
Farrow sends me a horrified WTF look. For good reason.
Oliver and Frankie are a bad idea. Not only is she scandalously younger than him, but they also both have zero morals or principles.
These two fiends would set the entire world on fire if they feel like frying a steak.
