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Chapter 7 - Don

Author: Bryant
last update Last Updated: 2022-06-17 18:06:32
See, this is how my luck goes. I don’t know why or how, but I must be cursed because it feels that way. Every relationship I’ve had, even briefly like my night with Reese, goes south. Though this is certainly a new record, one night was all it took for it to implode.

I’ve never had a one-night stand in my life. This fucking sucks, mainly because I was really into Reese. Sure, we have an age gap, but it wasn’t massive or enough to give us nothing in common. We don’t have much in common, but what we did was enough. I mean fuck, she knew my house is a George F Barber! What other woman am I going to find that would know that?! None.

Outside of her max level Karen mother showing up at my door, I thought everything went great. She jumped me as soon as I got her mother to leave my doorstep. We enjoyed breakfast together before I drove her home, and she gave me her number. I didn’t ask for it. She gave it to me.

All signs pointed to future encounters, like actual dates that don’t involve a
Bryant

Awe, poor Don thinking he's getting ghosted. But it seems Reese isn't letting her mother control her life!

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Comments (4)
goodnovel comment avatar
Dawn Best
I really like Don
goodnovel comment avatar
Jolit Q. Uehara
go Don! good job Reese!
goodnovel comment avatar
796Edith
Don is my kinda man , intelligent , handy & not a pushover , yeah I like nim a lot & good for Reese she stop wallowing & went to get her man
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  • Out of My League   Chapter 8 - Reese

    The doorbell jangled. Twice. Then again. Then came the knock that could only have been Ron Hunter. That man knocked like the house was rented from him.“Prepare yourself,” I hissed, leaning down as Don fiddled with Leo’s pacifier like a surgeon.“I am prepared,” he said, and it was a lie, but it was a lie laced with love, and something underneath that, and it was probably peace. That piece of mind that comes from finally letting go of old memories, from just leaning in to something so much worse, and louder, and better.I opened the door to a chorus of “Happy Hanukkah!” and “You weren’t answering your texts!” and “Where’s the wine?” Michael was first, tall and beaming with a still-sleeping Immanuel half-slumped against hi

  • Out of My League   Chapter 7 - Don

    I did not set an alarm.I didn’t need one. Leo’s sleepy grumblings from the nursery and the languid unfurling of Reese’s arm across my chest was a wake-up call enough. Morning light seeped in past the curtains in milky gold stripes and spilled on the floor, creeping with the kind of tender quiet that knew today it was not its day to be loud.We did not hurry.Thank God, because for once we did not need to. No last-minute packing of the car. No scrubbing of the floor before guests arrived. No anxious texting of family members, waiting for them to act like all was well. Just us. Our girl. Our boy. Our small family holding the other side of the frantic tightrope.Reese yawned as she sat up, hair sliding off one shoulder and cheeks p

  • Out of My League   Chapter 6 - Reese

    It wasn’t jingly bells or enchanted notes that woke us up. It was a fart. A big, booming fart that you could hear even over the baby monitor, and two glorious peals of baby laughter as they’d just hit the punchline.Don groaned into the pillow. “I think Nik just crop-dusted his sister.”“Merry Christmas,” I muttered, hauling myself out of bed. My robe was in a heap on the floor. One of my boobs was probably still out. It was still only 7:30 in the freakin’ morning.By the time we trudged to the nursery like a pair of zombies in oversized plaid pajamas, both of the twins were fully awake and grinning like pint-sized gremlins from Hell. Leocádia had tossed her blanket to one corner and was squirming around half-naked, while Nikolaos was smacking the si

  • Out of My League   Chapter 5 - Don

    It was at that moment, during my second sip of coffee, that pandemonium descended.First, there had been pounding on the door. Screams. Bells. High-pitched giggles. A shuffling noise that might have been someone dragging a dead tree across the porch. I opened just in time to spot a flash of pink and purple streaking into the foyer. Saki and Aiko, our four-year-old twin nieces, are whirlwinds of tutus, sparkles, and poor life choices.“UNCLE DON!” they screamed in unison, already halfway to the dining room, screaming over who could find the “spinny top things” first.Fore-followed behind, wheezing and glittering.“WHY are they sticky already? We’ve been in the car for eleven minutes,” he grumbled, blinking

  • Out of My League   Chapter 4 - Reese

    The dining table looked like it had lost a fight with a very determined elf. Wrapping paper was everywhere. Metallic gold crumpled in one corner, rolls of deep navy and cream ribbon unspooled across the floor, and a half-used roll of double-sided tape stuck to my forearm like some festive battle wound. A glittery bow clung to my sock, and I was ninety percent sure I had a tiny pair of scissors buried somewhere under the tissue paper avalanche.I hadn’t meant to make this much of a mess. I just wanted to get a head start on wrapping the presents I’d stashed weeks ago. The twins were finally napping in sync, a rare miracle I wasn’t about to waste, and Don was in the parlor, pen in hand, outlining spring semester’s goals for his shop class at the high school. I had an hour, maybe. Two if the universe loved me.I hadn’t eve

  • Out of My League   Chapter 3 - Don

    I should’ve known it was a bad idea to try to make latkes by myself with a baby on my chest. Nik was already upset before the first potato made contact with the grater, tiny fists clamped into fists of fury over the entire holiday of Hanukkah.“It’s just shredded potatoes, buddy,” I grumbled, bouncing slightly as I grated. “Not a war crime.”He screamed louder, thrashing around in the baby carrier like I’d told his great-great-grandbubbie that we were out of rugelach.“Okay, okay,” I sighed in exasperation, narrowly avoiding losing a fingertip to the grater. “You win. I’ll grate an extra onion.”The kitchen was already a disaster. Potato peels stuck to the counter, flour cover

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