Page 160 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

Addy closes her eyes briefly. “I should go stop the Federal Aviation Dog before he gets sanctioned.”

“That seems wise.”

She starts toward the living room, then glances back once over her shoulder. “Seven on Saturday, then.”

“Yes.”

“And Ethan?”

I wait.

She smiles, quick and bright and dangerous in ways I’m trying not to classify. “Try not to invite any more emotionally expensive geniuses between now and then.”

Then she disappears down the hall before I can answer.

I remain in the kitchen, looking at the list she left on the counter, listening to her voice blend with Oliver’s and Captain’s madness in the next room.

Dinner on Saturday.

A simple evening. Old friend. New girlfriend. Good food. Manageable conversation.

It should be straightforward.

Given my life, that alone is reason not to trust it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Addy

There’s a veryspecific kind of bedlam that exists in Ethan’s penthouse.

It’s not loud, not really. Not in the way my life used to be loud, with slammed doors and raised voices and emotional whiplash. This is softer, domestic. The kind that sneaks up on you in the form of a five-year-old arguing with a dog about his Lego tower while a billionaire tries to open a bottle of wine like it personally offended him.

“Captain can’t be on the runway,” Oliver says seriously, pointing at the dog sprawled across the magnetic tile airport. “Planes gotta go there.”

Captain lifts his head, wags once, and continues being completely useless.

I bite back a laugh. “Maybe he’s protesting.”

Oliver squints at the dog. “What’s protesting?”

“Complaining dramatically.”

“Oh.” He nods. “Then yes. He’s doing that.”

Across the room, Ethan snorts quietly while wrestling with the wine bottle.

I crouch beside Oliver. “Should we move the criminal?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. “He’s ruining it.”

“Terrible behavior.”

Together, we try to shove Captain sideways, but the dog instantly rolls over onto his back like this is the greatest game ever invented.

Oliver gasps. “He’s too fluffy.”

“That’s definitely slowing us down.”