“Aly got too drunk again, didn’t she?”
“When doesn’t she?” Another round of light laughs is exchanged; however, at the end of these I declare, “Alright, I need to get to my first patient of the day-”
“Which is…?”
“Something I’mstillnot telling you.” Post another snarky smirk, I state, “You’re welcome to call and text and encourage me to go out and get laid whenever your schedule allows.” Mirth spreads through each of our respective gazes. “Per usu’.”
“I’m a good brother slash best bud for doing that, aye?”
“Be a good brother slash best bud and let the kids bring me back a coffee mug, aye.”
“Always,” he states as we close the distance for a hug.
Like I said.
I love M.
And my love for him is why I should steer clear of one beautiful, hazel eyed goaltender.
Ushering out my slightly overbearing sibling to the right smoothly becomes an unexpected segue for the very man I should be avoiding to brazenly skate in from the left.
And unfortunately for me, I let my untouched lady parts do the thinking – rather than my big MD having brain – prompting me to less than gracefully push him into my officeback out of sight only split seconds before M tosses me one last wave over his shoulder.
Forsoapoperasake,why couldn’t I have met and almost hooked up with a prince instead?!
I feel like what Princess Brie and Prince Kellan of Doctenn went through was way less complicated than whateverthisis.
You know.
If that c-class made-for-streaming movie was at all accurate.
The instant M has crossed the point of no return, I step inside, shut the door, and rest my back against it. “Your name isn’t Trough.”
He smoothly removes his cowboy hat revealing thick, light brown locks I hate myself for wanting to run my fingers through. “I never said it was.”
“But that’s what Moose – who I’m now guessing isn’t actually named Moose-”
“Correct.”
“-called you.”
“Hometown nickname.”
“Trough…” slowly slips past my lips as I gradually nod, “as in if you were to combineThayne Groff…”
“That’s what Itellpeople when they ask, but it ain’t exactly thewholetruth. It’s jus’ aversionthat eventuallybecametrue. It also became the easier one to express.”
Curiosity gets the better of me. “What’s the original truth?”
“I’m a farm boy.” He innocently bounces his shoulders and tosses the object on my desk. “And big city pylons aren’t exactly clever about shit.”
“It was meant to be an insult?”
“Yup.” One hand slides into his shorts pocket. “Farm boymeans I eat likefarm animals, which would be out of a trough. Lucky for me, Dubs and Moose both had my back. Convinced other folks who heard it that it was jus’ a shortened version of my combined name ‘cause tothemthat’s what it was. What they wanted it to be. Somethin’ I didn’t have to be ashamed of.”
It’s impossible to stop myself from melting.
But I’m trying.
