supposed to deal with it.
Chapter 10
Maxx
Stirring the pot of marinara sauce, I smile to myself as Tony continues giving Dean basketball advice.
Stop looking at me like the boys do. I cook! I mean, I can cook. Well, I can cook now. Stop laughing. It’s not that bad. I’m actually getting really good at it! Over the last couple of weeks something weird inside me told me I should start to learn. Being a single parent, I should probably at least know how to do that much. No, you didn’t mishear me. When I walked away from Kellar 35 days ago that was the last time I spoke to him. I meant what I said. We’re done. And we’re not gonna talk about it either.
“I’m telling you, just keep doing the best you can, Kid. Do your best, have some fun, and the rest will work itself out,” Tony advises sitting in the chair across from Dean.
No. It’s not Logan’s chair because he doesn’t fucking live here.
“Thanks, Uncle Tony,” Dean says before looking over his shoulder. “Is it almost ready? I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” I grumble as my own stomach gurgles.
Okay, well, so am I. But I don’t get to eat all the time. Thanks to Luke ‘I know everything medically related’ Hart, I can’t even look at a cupcake without 10,000 different scenarios of what could happen to me or the baby. Do you have any idea how traumatized I am?
“You coming to the game tomorrow?” the Kid asks.
I look up just in time to see Tony give me a glance before answering, “Of course, Kid. Haven’t missed one yet.”
“Almost though,” Dean points out.
“Yeah, well you try finding that country farm school off the yellow brick road.”
“Were you watching the Wizard of Oz last night?” I ask pouring the sauce over three bowls of noodles, doing my best not to make a mess.
While the Hart’s are both proud of me for taking the time to learn to cook, neither appreciates the mess I make while doing it.
“Nah. I took this girl to see Wicked.” He answers as I stroll over to the table and place their bowls in front of them.
“You willingly went to see a musical?” Dean’s attitude reminds me of one I wish it didn’t.
Don’t say it. Just stop thinking about him.
“You’ll learn when it comes to dating, Kid, there are many things you do that you didn’t see yourself doing before. I.E. taking a chick to a musical.” Tony explains.
“Seems like a lot of wasted effort if you didn’t get laid.”
“Dean,” I say his name sternly. “There is more to life than getting laid. I know at 15 it’s hard to believe—”
“Almost 16—”
“But someday you’re gonna want more. You’re gonna wanna build a relationship. A fam—family,” I barely finish the sentence as I sit down beside Tony with my own bowl. The words have killed my appetite but I know I’m going to force myself to eat.
Most of the time it’s forcing now. Can’t just think about me anymore.
“She’s right,” Tony agrees giving me a sympathetic look before taking a bite.
And no. Nothing is going on between us. Geez. You’re as bad as he was, you know that? Friends. Tony and I are friends. Best friends really. He kinda just came into the fam and fit, ya know?
Clearing his throat, Tony tries to ask, “Have you spoken to—”
“Finish his name and you won’t finish your dinner at my table,” I cut him off.
Dean answers for me, “She hasn’t.”
My eyes cut down to my pasta refusing to be a part of the conversation.
“And you?”
“Every day,” his answer is followed by a slurping sound.
“God, Kid, you’re like a Dyson. Do you even chew?” Tony’s disgust makes me giggle, but doesn’t pull my eyes up.
“What’s a Dyson?” Dean smacks loudly.
“It’s a vacuum. And chew with your mouth closed,” I scold stirring up the pasta, trying to will myself to eat.
Once I get that first bite going, I know my hormones will kick in and make me eat the rest. I just…can’t. You know some moments are harder than
Chapter 10
Maxx
Stirring the pot of marinara sauce, I smile to myself as Tony continues giving Dean basketball advice.
Stop looking at me like the boys do. I cook! I mean, I can cook. Well, I can cook now. Stop laughing. It’s not that bad. I’m actually getting really good at it! Over the last couple of weeks something weird inside me told me I should start to learn. Being a single parent, I should probably at least know how to do that much. No, you didn’t mishear me. When I walked away from Kellar 35 days ago that was the last time I spoke to him. I meant what I said. We’re done. And we’re not gonna talk about it either.
“I’m telling you, just keep doing the best you can, Kid. Do your best, have some fun, and the rest will work itself out,” Tony advises sitting in the chair across from Dean.
No. It’s not Logan’s chair because he doesn’t fucking live here.
“Thanks, Uncle Tony,” Dean says before looking over his shoulder. “Is it almost ready? I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” I grumble as my own stomach gurgles.
Okay, well, so am I. But I don’t get to eat all the time. Thanks to Luke ‘I know everything medically related’ Hart, I can’t even look at a cupcake without 10,000 different scenarios of what could happen to me or the baby. Do you have any idea how traumatized I am?
“You coming to the game tomorrow?” the Kid asks.
I look up just in time to see Tony give me a glance before answering, “Of course, Kid. Haven’t missed one yet.”
“Almost though,” Dean points out.
“Yeah, well you try finding that country farm school off the yellow brick road.”
“Were you watching the Wizard of Oz last night?” I ask pouring the sauce over three bowls of noodles, doing my best not to make a mess.
While the Hart’s are both proud of me for taking the time to learn to cook, neither appreciates the mess I make while doing it.
“Nah. I took this girl to see Wicked.” He answers as I stroll over to the table and place their bowls in front of them.
“You willingly went to see a musical?” Dean’s attitude reminds me of one I wish it didn’t.
Don’t say it. Just stop thinking about him.
“You’ll learn when it comes to dating, Kid, there are many things you do that you didn’t see yourself doing before. I.E. taking a chick to a musical.” Tony explains.
“Seems like a lot of wasted effort if you didn’t get laid.”
“Dean,” I say his name sternly. “There is more to life than getting laid. I know at 15 it’s hard to believe—”
“Almost 16—”
“But someday you’re gonna want more. You’re gonna wanna build a relationship. A fam—family,” I barely finish the sentence as I sit down beside Tony with my own bowl. The words have killed my appetite but I know I’m going to force myself to eat.
Most of the time it’s forcing now. Can’t just think about me anymore.
“She’s right,” Tony agrees giving me a sympathetic look before taking a bite.
And no. Nothing is going on between us. Geez. You’re as bad as he was, you know that? Friends. Tony and I are friends. Best friends really. He kinda just came into the fam and fit, ya know?
Clearing his throat, Tony tries to ask, “Have you spoken to—”
“Finish his name and you won’t finish your dinner at my table,” I cut him off.
Dean answers for me, “She hasn’t.”
My eyes cut down to my pasta refusing to be a part of the conversation.
“And you?”
“Every day,” his answer is followed by a slurping sound.
“God, Kid, you’re like a Dyson. Do you even chew?” Tony’s disgust makes me giggle, but doesn’t pull my eyes up.
“What’s a Dyson?” Dean smacks loudly.
“It’s a vacuum. And chew with your mouth closed,” I scold stirring up the pasta, trying to will myself to eat.
Once I get that first bite going, I know my hormones will kick in and make me eat the rest. I just…can’t. You know some moments are harder than
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