Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“So, what’s up, Ma?”
“Oh,” she says with the slight surprise of someone who had forgotten they had a mission. “I saw your new TikTok. Why are you in a bathroom again?”
Rafferty snickers. “It’s where the best acoustics are,” he provides.
My mom giggles like a schoolgirl. “Well, you look handsome as ever, Matty. But stop squinting. You’ll get forehead lines.”
“Yeah, Matty,” Foster taunts. “You’ll get forehead lines.”
She’s not wrong (I make a mental note of it) and ignore Foster’s use of the nickname only my mom calls me. She only uses Matteo when I’m in trouble, Matty when she’s being affectionate but never the nickname I go by… Lucky.
“Mom,” I drawl out with faux exaggeration. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my fake brothers.”
“Oh hush,” she says. “Tell Foster I said congratulations.”
Everyone perks up and my jaw drops as I turn to look at him. He grins back at me.
“She knows?” I ask, clearly startled. But wait… of course, she knows. She knows everything. She’s like Google with gossip.
“I sent a few ring photos to her for her opinion. I asked a lot of women so I could make the right choice.”
Makes sense. My mom laughs. “I just know what matters. Mazzy’s a lucky girl.” Her tone turns serious. “And for the rest of you, I’m expecting wins against Ottawa and Buffalo. The playoffs start in six weeks and while I have no doubt you boys will make it, we need those two to stay at the top of the conference.”
“We got it, Mama Branson,” Penn says affectionately. He’s the one who has bonded with her the most during her visits, and I’m sure that has nothing to do with the big Italian meals she makes for everyone. Penn has no family other than Mila, so I don’t mind sharing mine with him.
“Oh, and I’m supposed to pass along—call your niece. Maria got her braces off, and she wants to FaceTime.”
Another inflation of my heart. My older sister Daniela has twin girls who just turned fourteen. “And Antonia didn’t get hers off?”
“Nope… she has a bit more to go, and she’s not happy about it. So maybe a FaceTime to her too for encouragement.”
“Got it,” I say. I need to remember to call them first thing in the morning. “I’m hanging up now, Ma. Say goodbye to the boys.”
“Goodbye, boys,” she chirps. “Love you!”
“Love you too,” they all echo back.
King leans over once I disconnect the call. “You know, you turned out surprisingly normal for a guy raised by a tiny Italian woman who has an unhealthy obsession with you.”
“She was a single mom and has zero filters,” I reply. “You either learn to roll with it, or you develop a twitch.”
The conversation drifts after that, and I can’t resist the lure. Some say I’m addicted, but I don’t know about that. I just like to be entertained.
I start scrolling through TikTok, checking first the responses to my last video and then through the curated content I’ve carefully built. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but something tells me I’ll know it when I see it.
CHAPTER 2
Winnie
“And that’s why I never use air dryers in public bathrooms. Just think about it. You’re basically blasting bacteria straight onto your hands.”
I stare at him over the rim of my unmercifully empty wineglass. I need another.
Jason leans back in his chair like he’s just dropped a TED Talk. He has the smug expression of a man who believes he’s both enlightened and tasked with the duty to enlighten others. He’s spent the last thirty minutes explaining everything from why rosé is overrated to the psychological benefits of being an only child. I doubt I’ve said more than seventeen words since the appetizers.
“That’s… a fun fact,” I say politely, glancing around for the waiter. I’d really like another glass of wine.
He nods. “I like a girl who’s into hygiene.”
I force a smile, even as I mentally check the boxes I already know by heart.
References his ex more than once.
Talks over me.
Says I’m “refreshingly normal” like it’s a compliment.
Used the phrase “alpha energy” in reference to himself.
I reach for my water, not quite at a loss for words. I’m a great conversationalist, but I’m honestly afraid of provoking more out of him.
“So, your job,” he continues, like we’ve been mid-conversation instead of him monologuing for an hour. “Kindergarten teacher, right? Must be cute. Kids love you because you’re short.”
“Not just because I’m short,” I say mildly.
He grins. “Feisty. I like that.”
I smile again. It feels like chewing glass and not for the first time on a first date, I consider going to the bathroom and shimmying my way out the window.
“Plus, you’ve got that whole influencer thing. That’s wild. I watched one of your TikToks before our date—my sister follows you. Said you’re funny in a ‘girl next door with baggage’ kind of way.”