Page 171 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

And yet…

“You’re thinking too loudly again.”

I glance up to find Ethan leaning against the counter across from me, sleeves rolled to his forearms, tie loosened slightly from earlier.

Still unfairly attractive. Still somehow composed despite the absolute social nuclear event that just detonated in his dining room.

“I didn’t realize my thoughts had volume.”

“They do when you get that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one where you appear to be conducting emotional forensic analysis.”

I let out a tired laugh. “That sounds concerning.”

“It probably is.”

He moves toward me then, slower this time, like he’s still making sure I won’t bolt again.

Reasonable, honestly.

I nearly did.

Ethan studies me before saying, “You should sit down.”

“That sounded dangerously close to an order.”

“You look like you’re about thirty seconds from collapsing.”

“That’s because my life has become a psychological thriller.”

“Sit, Addy.”

The low firmness in his voice sends an annoyingly warm shiver through me, which feels deeply inappropriate considering I had a near breakdown less than an hour ago.

Unfortunately, my body has never once respected timing.

“Bossy,” I mutter.

“Exhausted,” he counters immediately.

I slide onto one of the stools by the island while Captain immediately adjusts his position so that at least half his body remains touching my feet.

Ethan brings me a glass of water.

I stare at it suspiciously. “That’s not wine.”

“No.”

“You’re ruining my coping mechanisms.”

“You’ve had enough emotional instability for one evening.”

I narrow my eyes slightly but accept the glass anyway.

Our fingers brush. It sends heat crawling up my arm like my nervous system has developed a deeply inconvenient crush.