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in this family. It’s not a Disney movie.”

“I expect you to be real, Marc. You can’t pick your family,” she says. “And you’re doing all you can for Sammy. She’s your daughter now.”

I feel like Ali understands. I can trust her. This feeling, it’s new to me. It reminds me there are people out there who aren’t focused on the bullshit. It’s still okay to be human.

She shakes her head, looking a hell of a lot more poised than I thought she’d be. This is the kind of stuff that scares people away. “It’s not the end of your story,” she says. “It’s just another chapter. For all of us.”

I raise a brow. “Us...”

Out of nowhere, she swivels her butt and twists to lay her back against half of my chest. Gazing up at me, she exhales. “My dad,” she says. “He had many hard moments. I found him drunk in every place imaginable. At the bar, the bushes in the front yard, underneath the car in our garage...”

She bursts out laughing. I respond with a tight chuckle before drawing it back in. It’s not funny, but it feels good to have someone this understanding by my side.

Our eyes lock.

She breaks the silence with another warm smile. “You’re not going to scare me off, Marc,” she says. “Believe it or not, I’m real. I’ve lived some things too. Maybe, we just have to take that next step into the unknown. You know, do what makes us feel good. Maybe we should step into something so unimaginable it changes us forever.”

Her chest is pumping. I can’t stop staring at her, imagining what it might feel like to have her. All of her.

I close my eyes and fold my hands around her waist, bringing my head forward. Our foreheads meet, and our noses do a dance before I close my lips around hers. The taste of her mouth is intoxicating, and my heart pounds hard against my ribcage as my tongue moves back in anticipation of another move.

I pull her closer.

My hands drag up the side of her ribs, muscles tightening in response. Her fingers graze my jaw and cup the side of my neck. I hold her body tight to mine as I inhale her kiss.

She gives a quick laugh and clears her throat. “You’re a pleasant surprise, Marc Wylan.”

“I’m going to try and keep it that way,” I say.

We kiss again, this time slower. Much sweeter. I caress the back of her head and feel the urge to push forward. But I don’t.

On any other night, I’d take this further. But tonight isn’t that night.

There’s a list of things I’d rather do than damper the mood, but this was much needed. I’ve been working on normal ever since we arrived here. And Ali is deeper than I ever imagined. She’s a reservoir of love and understanding, vulnerability and kindness. But the main thing is that she understands us. A lot more than I ever believed she could.

We spend the night wrapped around each other, sharing the couch in many positions, talking and laughing as we listen to old records and half-watch classic movies. We get a little intoxicated. A few beers lead to a few more.

Rounding two in the morning, we both start to drift in and out of sleep. Empty bottles cover the kitchen table. I carry her into one of the guest rooms and relegate myself to the door. Before I can say goodnight, she’s already past out, snoring.

She’s so cute.

She could really be the one.

But all I can think about is how much she’s going to hate me after this party.

No, this is never going to last. It never does.

Ali

“This is your hotel wake-up call! Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!”

My eyes peel open, dry as sandpaper. The back of my throat feels raw, like I’ve been screaming. Is that pounding feeling in my head real or imaginary?

“I’m awake,” I groan.

It’s not convincing.

The sound of Sammy’s high-pitched voice punctures the stillness of my dreams. Before I can react, she’s launched herself on top of me. I scream in surprise, bolting out of the covers.

Marc stands in the hall, sporting a tangled mat of hair and maroon bathrobe, silk. He waves, smile resembling a winding river. Woof. “Morning.”

“Do you hate mornings as much as I do?” I ask.

“You have no idea,” he says.

Sammy lets out a high-pitched squeal and cowers under the covers as he walks into the room. “Apologies for the brutal assault. She’s crazy in the morning.”

“I am not crazy,” Sammy yells.

Sammy fights back with a kick. Marc catches her foot, but the second one comes in too fast. Her heel connects against his crotch.

“Aghh!”

Before this moment, I had never seen a man’s eyes bug out of his head. It’s an interesting thing to witness.

Marc stumbles, pushing his entire body against the doorway. “Sammy, you’re in big trouble,” he squeaks.

“No, I’m not,” she giggles, just a huge bubble of laughter and chaotic energy.

She runs right through his legs into the kitchen. My ears perk as I hear her feet clap against the tile. And then I hear one big bark. Rowdy screams for his life before bolting into the guest room and onto my bed.

His paws hit my chest with a thud. “Some wake-up call, huh?”

Rowdy’s tail sinks under his butt.

Last night was emotionally intense. But if this start is any indication as to how this day might go, today’s going to be, well, rowdy.

Nearly back to his old self, Marc stands and exhales. “That’s not what I wanted you to see first thing in the morning,” he says.

I recall my ex-boyfriend’s room. There were piles of clothes stacked like piles of wood. From the floor to the ceiling. He insisted on keeping a framed picture of him kissing the model from his favorite magazine, Daily Sport. Whenever I felt the energy to make some coffee in the kitchen, the sink was full of dirty dishes.

I’m so glad that’s over.

“I’ve seen worse,” I mutter.

Waving my yawn away,

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