C. Hoover

“I’m sorry. My friend... He thinks he’s funny. Also likes to make my life hell.”

This is usually the point during introductions that one would reply with their own name,” she says.

Where the hell did this girl come from? And where the hell has she been all my life?

Every second I spend with him just makes two more seconds I want to spend with him

“Mmm,” she moans again, her sleepy voice breathless. “Carter.”

Asa and Sloan, happily ever fucking after.

Fuck my father and his bullshit philosophies on love

He shakes his head. “Is there anything not funny about you getting married, Asa?”

I laugh. And then I fuck up the left side of his face.

Fucking excess.

I force the food down my throat. “I’d be honored.”

Motherfucker.

I need out of this house.

I walk to the back door and yell over my shoulder. “Your fucking spaghetti is ready, you goddamn asshole motherfuckers!”

“Do you get a promotion if you make it to third base with your subject’s fiancée?”