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Ally nodded, placated. “I mean, it isn’t my business, but—”

“Knowledge of the Hamilton men?”

“Something like that.”

“And yes, it is your business. Everything with me is. I need my bestie back for every sordid detail. I need someone to tell me what to expect, to maybe hold my hand during birthing classes if he’s not—if he doesn’t—”

She gripped my hand fiercely, cutting me off mid-stream. A good thing, since blubbering was sure to follow. “I’ll be there every step of the way. I swear.”

“Okay.” I exhaled, long and slow, and squeezed her fingers. “Okay. I can do this.”

“You absolutely can. You’re happy, aren’t you? For real? Not just to ease my mind.”

“No. I’m genuinely happy. Scared out of my mind, but happier than I’ve ever been. I want my baby.”

“Not just yours,” she reminded me, as if I could ever forget.

“I know.” I forced a smile onto my face. “My parents will be here tomorrow. My mom told me to tell you to keep the baby in until she got here.”

Ally chuckled. “Aww, that’s great. I can’t wait to see them.” Then her forehead wrinkled. “What are they going to say?”

I shrugged. “Truthfully? My mom will probably tell me I have very good taste.”

“Well, you do. As do I.”

We shared a conspiratorial grin and then I leaned forward to give her a gentle hug. “I’m going to swing by the house, see if he needs help with Laurie.”

“Oh, he should be free now. Mr. Hamilton—James,” she corrected herself, “was stopping by to relieve him after he and Seth had a cup of coffee. So, if you want some privacy away from my house,” her pointed glance made me duck my head, “he should be available.”

“We do keep our clothes on sometimes, I’ll have you know. Besides, he’s mad at me. Pretty sure screwing won’t be the first thing on his mind.”

“That’s a bet you don’t want to make. He’s male. It’s first, second, third, and fifth.”

“What’s fourth?”

“Eating between rounds.”

I had to laugh as I hugged her once more and promised to return to see the baby first thing in the morning when they got sprung.

As soon as I stepped out of the room, I pulled out my phone.

The hour of reckoning had arrived.

14

Oliver

I’d just started a movie for Laurie—that freaking Trolls, which she loved—when Sage’s ringtone drew me away from some paperwork. Normally, I’d be putting Laurie to bed around now. But tonight was a big night. Her little brother had just been born, and she was all wound up. I hadn’t even bothered trying to corral her, hoping she’d wear herself out with singing and dancing trolls and mindless babbling about how one day she was going to marry Justin Timberlake.

Kids today had no taste.

And adults today would stall by thinking disparaging thoughts about pop stars to avoid looking at their phone.

I finally gave in and read Sage’s text, the words reverberating in my head as if she was at my side and saying them.

Hi. If you don’t hate me, can we talk? It’s important.

I didn’t even have to think about my answer.

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