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David Wiesel lives for making music, partying, and women. He has a wicked sense of humor and a body made for sinning. He's the kind of guy every mama warns her daughter about.
Sylvia Price lives for her daughter, theater, and teaching. She's living the responsible life and left her wild ways in the past. She's the kind of woman every mama wants her son to marry. Not that she's looking for that.
One drunken night when they were teenagers left them irrevocably bound. Fifteen years later, an accident brings them back together and there is no denying the heat that scorched them when they were young is still there, sparking between them.
While David is more than willing to stoke those flames, Sylvia is afraid this time, the fire will burn her right to the ground.
Audible Audio
First published April 5, 2019
The tit in my hand started moving. I cracked an eye to get a look at its owner. She was staring at me, eyes heavy-lidded, looking hungry. Her friend on my other side was still fast asleep, but this one was cute enough.
Let me be perfectly fucking clear: if she’d told me about the pregnancy earlier on, I’d have been all over her to end it. I didn’t know her. No way I wanted to be tied to a stranger for life. And no way I wanted to be tied down by a kid.
We’d never been a couple. Nothing close. We were co-parents in a completely non-traditional way. I was gone seventy percent of the year, but I was there for Em as much as I could be.
The scent of weed mixed with cheap women’s perfume alerted me to David’s presence.
I’d fucked up a lot in the early years of Em’s life—not being there as often as I should’ve, missing payments when I got caught up on life on the road. I’d fucked up later too, in other even more staggering ways.
Smelling like I’d just climbed out of a brothel while spending time with my kid and her mom was pretty much a nightmare.
“There are towels under the counter. We only have super girly soap, but I imagine you’re used to smelling like women.”
Goddamn, what I wouldn’t give for Em to be fine and me to be back with my boys in fuckin’ Finland.
This was exactly why I shouldn’t be around him. He thought very little of me, but I had a million reasons to hate him. And I did.
Sometimes, when I was up in the middle of the night, nursing Emma for the third or fourth time, I’d see him stumbling home, loud and happy. It was on one of those nights I’d decided to hate him too.
He stood, took two steps, then came back, sitting down. “I mean, I have a life. I can’t be this pious, do-gooder every second of the day. I know it comes naturally for you, but it’s wearing on me.”
I’d never even taken the time to wonder why, or how I’d gotten to almost thirty-four years old without having major, real feelings for a woman.
I’d grown into my nose somewhat, but I was never going to be a beauty. I had character, and most days that was enough for me.
I had to continually remind myself we were playing house right now, but none of this was for keeps—not for me anyway.
“Where the hell have you been all my life?” I asked stupidly. She arched a brow. “Just here, raising your kid.”
