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291 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 5, 2019
“When are you going to tell them the truth about me?” he whispers.The big secret, that Clark was in fact Lennon came to a head, when Ollie's brothers were talking shit about Ollie's situation and Lennon came to his defense, which I adored, because *that* was when the true, bone-deep feelings actually became apparent between the MC's.
I shrug. “At our engagement party?”
“I’m only here because of my roommate.”The humor was a thing of beauty in this story, especially when everyone and their grandmother kept calling Ollie "pretty".
Jet raises his hand. “That would be me. He wanted to go home, but I convinced him to stay for at least five drinks.”
“Two.”
“Okay, seven.”
I’m learning really fast that negotiating with Jet is pointless.
“There’s that fuckin’ pretty word again. I’m not pretty. I’m wicked badass.”Along with Lennon's jealousy.
“Of course, you are, baby.” I pat his cheek.
Even though I’m being condescending, he has this weird smile on his face as if I just told him he’s won the Hottest Man on Earth competition. Which, in all fairness, if it was a thing, he could totally win.
“There you go calling me pretty again,” he grumbles.And the sexy times, which began with a somewhat-daring blowjob taunt.
“You are kinda pretty.” Soren turns to us from the passenger seat with a charming smile showing off the dark scruff on his face.
Ollie chuckles at me. “I think you’re growling. Are you trying to growl? Fuck, that’s adorable.”
I didn’t know it was possible for someone to call me a pussy with just their eyes, but Lennon pulls it off flawlessly.Finley didn't disappoint in her avoidance of contrived drama and the ever-dreaded Big Misunderstanding, either, as neither were anywhere to be found, Praise the Lawd.
Ugh. I sound like a puck bunny. I gasp. I’m Ollie’s puck bunny! I chuckle at myself, because even though I’m joking, I don’t actually mind the sound of that.The book ends with a strong HFN, headed towards an HEA, complete with a few personal sacrifices, willingly offered up, once what was truly important blessedly made its way to the forefront of the MC's minds.




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“When are you going to tell them the truth about me?” he whispers.
I shrug. “At our engagement party?”
⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱*Cute, But Not Awesome*⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱
Before any of them can start tormenting this guy who’s doing me a favor, I cut them all off.
“Guys, this is …” Fuck, I didn’t even ask him his name, and all I can think about is how much he looks like a blond Superman. “Clark.”
I knew this was a bad idea for a reason. Pulling it off is going to take more than saying This is my boyfriend, so now you can stop acting like dicks.
He glances in my direction, and I want to apologize for panicking, but what kind of boyfriend doesn’t know his partner’s name?
“And who is … Clark?” Ma asks, giving him the same stare down she gave Amanda when Nic first brought her home.
“He’s, uh—” My voice cracks like it did when I was twelve years old, and I have to clear my throat. “This is my boyfriend.”
I’m only in sports journalism, and the amount of shit I get from coworkers annoys the crap out of me. Like them saying I should be writing fashion instead of sports because, you know, the fashion and gay gene are one and the same. It’s mainly said in jest, but they don’t understand how it’s insensitive and inappropriate—probably because they’ve never had to deal with being put in a box and told that’s where they belong.
I’m not out, so I shouldn’t get shiny things like happiness to play with. That’s what they seem to think.
And that’s why I’m hiding in the bathroom of this dingy bar-slash-restaurant before we’ve even been served dinner. We came to the Honey Bee so the whole family could be together. Ma already complains she doesn’t see us all enough, but in our defense, we’re five dudes with shit going on in our lives. I think she’s more upset she doesn’t get to dote on all of us now we’re grown-ups. And by dote on, I mean butt in.
She’s a meddler through and through, but I get the brunt of it. I’m her baby—the youngest—and also the gayest. My whole family has been overprotective of me ever since my mom outed me to myself when I was fifteen.
Yup. That happened. Because Ma knows everything. Apparently.
Tonight, all I’ve heard is how lost Ash is without me and how relationships need compromises to work.
“Be the person that you needed growing up, struggling to believe you could be anything you wanted to be,” she’d said not ten minutes ago.
Changing Gus Kenworthy quotes to suit my situation doesn’t help, Ma.

