Page 146 of Embrace

“What’s the bet? I’ll do it,” Aiden says after he’s cleared the table. Of course, saving his wife from any hardship.

I roll my eyes. “You guys are lame.”

The bet started as a joke, but the closer we got to game day, the more Summer insisted that Toronto would take the win. She was sorely mistaken when I scored the game-winning goal moments before the final buzzer. Since she lost, she has to chauffeur me around the city whenever I ask. If I lost, she wanted me to get Aiden’s number tattooed on me. I would have.

“She was supposed to be my chauffeur,” I tell him. “And I’m having a hankering for a special dessert.”

Aiden raises a brow. “That’s it? You gotta get better at making bets, Ishida.”

I chuckle. “Oh yeah? How do you like your tattoo?”

He narrows his eyes. In college we had a hat of consequences, and the moment Aiden had to pick his, he got the consequence I had written down. The spider tattoo.

“I like his tattoo,” Summer chimes in.

I pretend to gag.

That’s when Dylan walks out of the kitchen with my cat on his shoulder, holding a tub of Reese’s Pieces ice cream, with Sierra not too far behind with her own spoon.

“You did not just steal that from me!” she shouts, trying to tiptoe to Dylan’s height. But she’s freakishly strong, because with one quick move she’s maneuvered the ice cream out of his grip and sprints back to her spot at the table.

They’ve been on some sort of break from skating, but they haven’t announced anything. Most days they stay holed up in their houseback in Connecticut, but on days like this, they always fly out to see everyone.

It’s been a while since we’ve all been together, but my favorite part about this is that my wife agrees to join me on the road.

Scarlett walks back into the dining room, having excused herself to go to the bathroom earlier. She’s been jittery all day, a little distant.

I pull her into my lap before she can sit on her chair. Red hair curls around her face, making her skin glow bright. “You okay?” I ask.

She nods. “I’m just worried about us driving that sports car of yours in this weather.”

I chuckle. “We’ll be fine. It’s barely icy out there.”

“I’d take an Uber if I were you, Scar. That thing is a death trap,” Summer says, sticking out her tongue at me. She hates my car only because I talked Aiden into getting it first.

“Besides, you insisted on driving it all the way here. You love that thing,” I tell her.

Scarlett stands to cross her arms. “Maybe I’m thinking more practically now.”

I tilt my head, confused about what’s suddenly changed her mind. Just as I’m about to ask, the baby monitor crackles, and we hear Lucas’s faint cry. Aiden presses a hand to Summer’s shoulder to tell her to sit, but I wave them both away. “I got it.”

“Need help?” Dylan calls. “I’m practically a baby whisperer.”

Sierra scoffs. “He’s not. Kids just think they’re on a ride when he picks them up.”

I shake my head and walk up the steps. Lucas’s room is across the hall from Aurora’s, who seems to be taking her older-sister duty very seriously because there’s a sign on her door that readsNo Boys Allowed (Except Daddy).

The sound machine plays a loud whooshing noise; apparently, the ocean sounds calm Lucas the most. He’s sound asleep in his cribwhen I gingerly take him in my hands and pull him out until he’s wrapped in my embrace. Sometimes I can’t believe that this is our life now, that I’m holding something my friends created with their love.

It seemed like eons ago when Aiden texted the group chat two words:It’s happening.

The home birth wasn’t planned, but it turns out, when your water breaks before your due date, and you’re as stubborn as Summer, you ignore the signs so you don’t veer off plan. Luckily, Aiden wasn’t buying her “don’t leave your game” nonsense and came straight home after only playing in the first period in a playoff game. He still had a week before his paternity leave began, but the baby boy had different plans.

Lucas coos in my arms as if recalling the memory with me. I walk him around the room that glows a dim blue color from the sunflower-shaped nightlight that’s plugged in to the far wall. It reflects little flower shapes all over the wall and ceiling. But it’s by the window where we look out into the sky, toward the scattered stars.

I don’t know how long I stand there, staring down at him with the moonlight illuminating his face, but I could stay here forever.

Scarlett and I have talked about kids, but I’ve never brought them up unless she does. She’s busy with the shelter and the classes she teaches, so I want to make sure it’s what works best for her before I start thinking about us. But there isn’t a moment in the last ten years when I haven’t wanted a family with her. She’s the most calm and caring person I know, and I would kill to have a little mini version of her in my arms.