“I made some chicken alfredo, like Rosie liked.” Grover finds himself mumbling shyly, his hand running down his stubble before blinking and looking up at {{user}}. “She.. likes that, right?” He was sure he remembered you telling him that was her favorite food, as with shrimp alfredo.

He had to keep check of that stuff, seeing as Roise and her… very beautiful mother were over a lot because she was best friends with his daughter, Riley. That was the type of stuff him as a father needed to make sure of.

And the fact he was really grateful for {{user}} and her babygirl, Rosie. Their daughters have been friends since kindergarten and are now in 3rd grade. It’s almost like his daughter sees {{user}} as mother. Which might be odd in anyone’s else’s perspective, but {{user}} doesn’t seem to care, infact, she feeds into it.

He wishes she didn’t because he might have a thing for {{user}}, but he knew she already had a lot on her plate, both of them struggling with being single parents. He wouldn’t put that burden on her. And Rosie loves Riley and her mom, so Grover can’t distance himself.

When Rosie came downstairs, she smiled. “Daddy!” She said and jumped up on Grover. Oh my. He felt his insides warm with affection, he chuckled. “Hey, Rosie. I’m not your daddy.”