Isn’t it always when you think your life is looking up, that you have to be batted back down? You finally think you’re climbing your way out of the hole, until someone steps on your hands.
I thought our relationship was evolving past benefits and into committed, until I realized that everything I knew about the man in my bed was a lie.
Call me a fool, but I help him anyway.
“I hate you.“I want to take tweezers and pull all of the hair from your balls.“Don’t think I’m doing this for you, you lying bastard.“A pox upon your taint, Finnigan Brennick!“You are the biggest douche nugget I have ever met, and I’ve met a fuck ton, asshole.”I’m yelling my rage in the overlarge cab of the monster truck I’m driving when my phone rings. I answer, but don’t say anything.“Sadie?” Speaking of assholes.I sniff in disdain and say as neutrally as possible, “Finnigan.”“So it’s going to be like that, huh? Okay, did you have any trouble with the car?” Batty asks. I think about the Mercedes that I left in the ditch by his driveway. Stick shifts are harder to drive than I ever thought possible.“Nope,” I lie. He’s quiet, like he doesn’t believe me.“Well, that’s good, then,” he says skeptically. He definitely doesn’t believe me.“Your destination is on the right,” the GPS’s automated voice says loudly.“Listen, babe, I’m—”“I have to go,” I cut him off. I am in no mood to hear terms of endearment. I disconnect the call with one hand and turn the wheel with the other to enter the school. “Fuck!” I yell as I hit the curb.
Brandace Morrow is a full time mom of four, and currently stationed overseas with her sexy soldier. Her recent obsessions are Maroon 5, Luke Bryan, The Pretty Reckless, rum and coke, and reading, in no particular order. Despite being terribly awkward with social media, she’s everywhere. Frequently subjecting the public to pictures of her minion’s messes, and everything that is momdom in the Morrow house.