Page 130 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

“Wonderful. Maybe lower your voice from nightclub emergency to indoor human.”

“Absolutely not. I’m excited.” She drops her sunglasses dramatically. “How’s pilot daddy?”

I stare at her. “No. We are not doing that.”

She laughs. “You slept with him, and now you’re living in his house. I’m doing it forever.”

“Please remember you’re talking about my employer.”

She grins. “That makes it hotter.”

“You're the least helpful person I know.”

“And yet your favorite.” Luci sprawls sideways across what looks like her bed and props her chin on her hand. “So. Update me. Is he still devastating? Is the child still adorable? Is the dog still a menace?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

“And are you in love with him yet?”

I nearly drop the phone. “Luci.”

“What? I’m asking as a supportive sister.”

“That isn't support. That’s psychological warfare.”

She cackles. “You didn’t answer.”

“Because the answer is shut up.”

“Interesting.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “What time are you getting here?”

“Early evening. Train should be on time unless the universe wants to be dramatic. Anyway, tell tiny aviation child I’m bringing him snacks.”

“Are they normal snacks or Luci snacks?”

She looks offended. “Rude. I know how to buy for children.”

“That isn't an answer.”

She smiles with all the innocence of a woman who definitely bought sugar. “See you later.”

Then she hangs up before I can interrogate further.

I lower my phone slowly.

Captain, watching from the rug, sneezes.

“Exactly,” I tell him.

By the time evening rolls around, I’m absurdly excited.

Maybe because it’s Friday, and because I haven’t seen Luci in too long. Maybe because living inside someone else’s beautiful, emotionally complicated penthouse means the prospect of having a piece of my old life here feels grounding in a way I didn’t know I needed.

Ethan gets home just before she arrives.

I’m in the kitchen slicing fruit for Oliver when I hear the front door open, followed by Captain launching himself toward the entry with the force of a tactical device.