Keats McCulloch opened his florist shop in Sydney two years ago and he’s living his dream. Even though running his own business leaves little room for a personal life, he is very single, sometimes lonely, but otherwise happy.

It's official: my step bro is the biggest himbo ever to himbo. He's a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He's everywhere. He's around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can't see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can't help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he's alone. I hear everything.

As a divorced man in my thirties with a throwaway job and very few friends, I admit that I've made a lot of bad decisions over the years. Rounding out the top of that epic list was allowing my son's best friend, Quinn, to talk me into taking him on a two-week summer road trip... alone. What was supposed to be quality father-son bonding time before Joshua went off to college has somehow transpired into a battle of wills between me and his nineteen-year-old best friend. Quinn may be young, but he genuinely seems to enjoy spending time with me, something I've never experienced before.

The hatred began when my father proposed to another man in a shocking moment that rocked my family to its core. Now I’m on a quest for revenge against my father. That means hitting him where it hurts - the new fiancé and the son he thinks so much of. Alister Sommers. A bleached-blond perfectionist thorn in my side, who’s used to everything going his way. Grades, money, track - he dominates it all despite his short, insignificant frame. Was one dad not good enough that Alis had to take mine, too? Soon, we’ll be stepbrothers. Until then, I vow to make his life a living hell.

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.