Page 61 of How to Win the Girl
Still.
The what-ifs outweigh the reality. Who wants to think about having a wife and kids, or a family? I don’t even know what I’m having as a midnight snack tonight when I’m home and hungry, let alone what I want my future to look like.
Shit, let me get a job out of college first.
The pressure presses on, weighing me down.
Being a campus legend also comes with the Colter Curse of our father…
“Hello? Earth to Drew.”
Daisy nudges my calf beneath the table.
“Shit, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her pretty face is tilted, the sunlight shining through the window warming her skin. “Where did you go?”
I shrug. “All of a sudden, my mind started wanderin’, thinkin’ ’bout my dad, I guess.” Nothing good, though, not happy thoughts.
Her nod is slow. “I think sometimes what our parents did or did not do affects us more than we think.”
I grunt. “Is that so?”
“Yes. The fact that my parents were college sweethearts and have this picture-perfect relationship has seriously fucked with my social life.”
“How?” ’Cause I fathom how a “picture-perfect relationship” could be anything short of great.
“Well. It’s created unrealistic expectations. I used to spend all my time judging guys against my father, which is unfair. And so messed up.” She laughs. “I know it’s never going to be like that for me because that is my parents’ story, not mine.”
“How do you know they don’t fight?”
She shrugs. “I’ve never heard them.”
“Just because you’ve never heard them doesn’t mean they ain’t tusslin’ behind closed doors or when you’re not around.”
“That’s true.”
“People fight. It’s not perfect one-hundred percent of the time.”
It can’t be even when it’s good.
Hell, all Duke and his girlfriend Posey did when they met was argue and spar, and it wasn’t the flirting kind. It was sexual tension; it was sheer irritation and infuriation. They couldn’t stand each other, and come to think of it, neither could Dallas and Ryann.
See what I’m talking about? The Colter Curse is real.
Women can’t stand us. No idea why when we’re so charming.
“Whew.” Daisy lets out a relieved breath when the server appears, two plates in his hand, setting the onion rings and wings in the center of the table. He asks if he can bring us anything else.
“More napkins? And ranch?”
He nods and disappears.
“So switching gears.” A giant onion ring gets plunked into the ranch dressing as soon as the dude comes back. “When is the last time you had a girlfriend? Like, do you have time to date? You seem busy.”
I rack my brain for information about my brother, fruit of my loins.
“Of course I have time to date. Would I be talkin’ to you if I didn’t?”
