Page 63 of Breakaway Daddies

>> Okay. We’re all idiots. Let’s fix it.

I glance over at Kenzie and Ally, who sit across from me at the sleek, dimly-lit bar, their eyes keen and watchful despite their pretense of casual indifference.

I lift my drink, the condensation cool against my palm. “Thanks for the pep talk, ladies. I think you might’ve saved our dumb asses.”

Kenzie’s lips curve into a smile. “Well, it’s not every day we get to coach the players.”

“Just… be sincere,” Ally advises, swirling the last of her drink before setting the glass down with a gentle clink. “That’s all she ever wanted.”

And suddenly, for the first time in weeks, hope blooms in my chest.

Maybe we have a real shot at making things right.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Jinx

My phone buzzes incessantlylike a mosquito trapped in a cup, the vibration rattling with a persistent hum. I glance at my smartwatch with a gloved hand, paused mid-clean, and let out a long sigh.

Notifications. A seemingly endless stream of them.

My phone screen illuminates with names that instantly twist my gut—Bruno, Thomas, Rowan—appearing one after the other in a relentless parade.

I take a deep breath, my gaze shifting back to the snake in front of me. Lilith, secretly my favorite, is coiled elegantly around a thick branch, her scales gleaming under the soft light as if she’s casting judgment on my turmoil.

I smirk at her serene indifference.

“They’re sorry, Lily,” I mutter, my voice low as I scoop the old substrate into a bin with precision. “Guess miracles happen.”

Another buzz, another message. I don’t even need to read it to know the tone: it’s all heartfelt and fumbling, tangled with emotions, because of course it is.

The weight of it makes my chest tighten, but I can’t decide if it’s with anger or a reluctant sense of relief.

I don’t reply. Not yet.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about it,” I mutter to her as I scrub down her glass terrarium.

The scent of cleaner tingles my nose, sharply contrasting with the earthy odor of the reptile bedding and the warm, humid air that clings to my skin. My thoughts feel denser than the air in this room.

“Maybe they mean it,” I continue, pressing a paper towel into the stubborn grime in the corner of the tank. “But… do I even want to go back?”

I glance at the phone lying silent on the table. Its screen is dark and reflective, showing my own image back at me: messy burgundy hair tied back with a bandana, dark circles shadowing my eyes, and a smudge of cleaner streaked across my cheek.

I look exhausted, like someone who hasn’t slept in days.

“I want this baby,” I whisper, the words hanging in the air, suddenly making everything feel more real. The prospect fills me with a mixture of terror and excitement.

Still, the certainty of wanting doesn’t bring clarity to the chaos that follows the decision. I’ve never envisioned my life with a white picket fence.

But definitely not a harem, either. And certainly not having my relationship status splashed across national headlines.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts as I focus back on the task at hand, wiping the glass clean once more.

“Let’s just get your house in order,” I mumble to Lilith, watching her lazily bask under her heat lamp. “I can deal with mine later.”

The tank’s almost complete, just lacking a final touch. I want to adjust the stubborn log that won’t stay put. Carefully, I grab Lilith and set her down on the table, before placing the log back in.

I stretch my arm out, planting my foot on the second-highest rung of my rickety old ladder, which creaks under my weight.

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