I pull up to the clubhouse and kill the engine. As soon as I swing my leg over and undo my jacket, I hear it—laughing.
Yeah. That laugh.
I don’t even need to look up to know who’s standing by the door.
Ford.
The asshole among us.
“You look ridiculous,” he says, grinning like a dick—but there’s no bite behind it. Just the usual ribbing.
My hand instinctively drops to the extra weight in the papoose.
Ford snorts. “Seriously though—how’s the pup holding up?”
Chapter Six
Stone
Lee bailed out of the car like it was on fire.
Pretty sure it hadn’t even come to a full stop before he was moving—fast, focused, muttering threats under his breath.
I ripped off my seatbelt and shoved the door open. Stupid thing wrapped around me like an octopus on espresso. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d have been on his heels.
By the time I pushed through the vet’s front doors, he was already at the counter—voice low, urgent, half-shouted.
“—
Even though it’s been a couple of weeks since I was in Kentucky, my crush on Lee hasn’t waned. If anything, it’s gotten worse. I’ve been stalking his socials for days—I even have a Google alert set up in case anything gets posted about him or his business.
Yeah. I’m that far gone.
The self-control it’s taken not to ask Ollie about him every practice, game day, and social event is a testament to my... I don’t even know. Restraint? Masochism? Something.
“Everything okay?” Ollie asks
Hopefully, they disappear into Johnny Cash's burning ring of fire. It's nice Lee has someone biological to connect to, even though the Blundell-Sunderlands are the kindest parents he could have ever hoped for.
His bio POS are definitely oxygen thieves. And Lee, he's definitely different to the kid we met in Williams' Love. I'm glad you're enjoying it and continue to do so. It's been fun writing this, even if Lee's keeps going his own way.
Chapter Four
Lee
After being away from home for the past week, my head is a little clearer. But the closer I get, the more it feels like I’m about to burst out of my own skin.
It’s fine. I’m a grown-ass man. And being a grown-ass man means sometimes you get spooked and take off. It happens. Still, there are consequences—and coming home after running off for a week means I now have to face them. Damn it.
It’s not like I cut everyone off. I spoke to my dads every da
I'll give you 3 out of 4. Never been a Farnham fan. I grew up on Midnight Oil, ACDC, Choirboys, Party Boys, Noiseworks, The Angels, and Radiators. Oh and the Screaming Jets.