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TWELVE

TANNER

“Is this what impending fatherhood is doing to you?”

Lux rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled out a stool to sit down at the kitchen island.

“Yeah,” I replied, securing the lid on the breakfast smoothie I’d made and sticking a straw through the hole. “What d’you think?”

His gaze swept around the kitchen, taking in the banana peel, the spilled milk, and splashes of berry juice along with the dusting of protein powder from when I’d misjudged how flimsy the bag was and it bounced back to knock half of it off the scoop. So annoying.

“I’ll clean it all up, don’t worry.”

“No, I’m impressed. Six months ago you’d still be asleep.” Lux reached for the blender jar, ran his finger around the edge, and stuck it in his mouth. “This is good.”

“I am capable of making a smoothie.”

“Yeah, but you’d always wait for someone else to do it.”

He got me there.

Since the day we’d moved into this apartment, the kitchen was Lux’s domain. Every day he’d make breakfast for us in some capacity—usually eggs and pancakes—and given how the rest of us only possessed the skills limited to opening a cereal box or making a smoothie, we were only too happy to let him.

In the two years we’d lived together, Lux had slowly been teaching us the way around the kitchen. We weren’t quite at the pasta-from-scratch, three-course-meals stage yet, but I could definitely make breakfast if no one else was awake, and not just cereal.

“Why are you up so early, anyway?” He glanced at the clock. “Not to mention dressed .”

“My parents are in town.”

“Ahh. And today is the big reveal? You flew them in?”

I shook my head. “They were coming anyway, Holiday’s on The Tonight Show this week, and they’ve come to watch. And they’re coming to the game tonight.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, but get this…” I paused, waiting for Lux to look at me. I was probably supposed to keep this a secret, but it was too exciting not to share. “She’s been asked to host the SNL season opener.”

His eyes lit up. “No way?”

“Cool, right?”

“When is it?”

“End of the regular season.”

Lux groaned, though it was halfhearted.

We were big SNL fans. During the early baseball season, it was the best way to unwind on a Saturday night after a game, and if we were flying out, then we had it on the plane screens.

But the first episode of the new season always clashed with the end of our season, so we’d never been able to score tickets.

Even though it looked like we’d be going into the postseason as favorites, and would miss the Wild Card Series, we needed to be resting as much as possible if we were going to make it to the World Series.

It had been drilled into us since the first day of Spring Training.

Our boss, Penn Shepherd, wanted that trophy.

He’d even had a plinth built, and it sat in the entrance of Lions Stadium for us to walk past every day.

The empty pedestal at the top served to remind us of the pressure we had on our shoulders this year.

But we all wanted it. We wanted to win so badly we could taste it.

Not being in the audience to watch Holiday live on SNL would be a small price to pay if we lifted that trophy in November.

“When’s she on Fallon?”

“Thursday, I think.”

“We’ll watch on the plane.”

I nodded. On Thursday we’d be on the way to Seattle for our series with the Mariners.

It was a series we both needed to win, the Mariners probably more than us, but we had no plans to take it easy.

We were less than a month away from the postseason and had been teetering at the top of the National League for the past few weeks, switching back and forth with the Phillies and the Braves.

The Mariners needed this win to ensure they had a spot for the Wild Card Series.

“How are your parents going to take the news?”

There was the million-dollar question .

“They already have a ton of grandchildren, so it won’t be a novelty, and they’re awesome grandparents.

But I’m their baby boy, right?” I added with an eye roll, tossing the banana peels in the trash and wiping down the counter.

“At least in my mom’s head. I think my dad will be cool once he knows Millie’s not after my money, my mom will want to move to New York and control every minute of every day. ”

“I think we’re all out of space here, bud. She’ll have to find somewhere else.”

“Yeah, right? Thank god.” My body shuddered.

It wasn’t exaggerated either. When I first moved to New York, my mom wanted to move here, too, even though Holiday was already living in Los Angeles at that point.

Thankfully it was right around the time my eldest sister, Riley, had her first baby, and the pull of being a grandmother was too strong.

Lux got up and flicked on the coffee machine. “Good luck, man. I’m sure it’ll all go fine.”

Letting out a deep sigh, I threw him a look that said I hope so and picked up the smoothies I’d made. “Anyway, I have a pregnant girl to take this to. I’ll catch you later.”

I might not have thought through this moving situation in any way whatsoever, but I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy her being so close, especially when I could cross through the emergency stairwell we shared and knock on her door.

I loved being able to see her as often as I wanted, even if that just meant a passing visit. It didn’t matter because I could have another passing visit later that day. I loved that I could check on her. It made me feel like I wasn’t missing out as much as I might have done otherwise .

Since we’d gotten home from our last trip, Millie had been the last person I’d seen before heading to bed every night, after checking on her when I returned from a game.

I didn’t want to read too much into it, but I swear I’d been sleeping better because of it, and I knew that’s why I was waking up so much earlier.

Because seeing Millie first thing had become the best way to start my day.

I thrust the smoothie at her as she opened the door, holding it wide for me, and I followed her inside.

“Good morning, my beautiful neighbor.”

The freshly showered scent of her lingered in the air.

It was one I’d never been able to get enough of.

My body was yet to become immune to the effect she had on me every time I saw her—the racing of my heart, my dick jerking, my smile widening—and I wasn’t just talking about since she’d gotten pregnant.

I’d never been able to get enough of her.

Leaning down, I smacked a kiss to her cheek. It was still a marvel to me that she let me, and I wasn’t about to lose my cheek-kissing privileges by taking it too far—pushing her up against the wall and making out with her until she could no longer stand, that kind of thing.

I was still walking on cloud nine after our post-scan kiss, and I planned on having many more.

Patience comes to those who wait, and all that.

She brought the straw to her lips. “You don’t need to do this, you know.”

“That would be more convincing if you hadn’t just slurped down half of it in one go.” I winked.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’m not enjoying it, and I’m not grateful. But I can make my own breakfast. ”

“Then think of it as me making the baby’s breakfast,” I said, stopping by the elevator doors that opened in her apartment, and hit the call button.

She ran a hand across her belly. “Baby says thank you.”

I bent down close to where her hand rested, and whispered, “You’re welcome.”

“Do you want a coffee?” she asked, but I shook my head. A moment of panic flickered on her face. “You’re going to see them now ?”

“Yeah, they got in last night and Holiday’s planned an announcement breakfast.” I didn’t add the groan I’d let out when Holiday announced her announcement breakfast. I also pleaded with her not to call it that.

“Oh my god, they’re going to hate me.”

“Are you kidding? They going to love you. My mom will immediately try to make herself your new best friend, so you’d best warn Radley.”

“They won’t think I’ve done this on purpose to trap you?”

“No…” My eyes narrowed, and my head slowly tilted while I tried to conceal my amusement at her worry. “Wait, did you?”

“No.” She scoffed. “Of course not.”

“Damn, I thought you were about to admit you were in love with me.” I huffed loudly, stepping inside the elevator when it arrived. “Oh well, there’s always tomorrow. Catch ya later, baby. You, too, Baby Mama.”

“Stop calling me that,” she yelled through the gap in the closing doors.

“Never.”

T wenty minutes later I pulled into the underground parking of the brownstone Holiday was renting in Greenwich Village.

She’d been here since last fall when she began filming a movie with Martin Scorsese—a two-part epic feature on the history of New York starting with the building of the Brooklyn Bridge.

I hadn’t been here since Millie had moved across the hall.

Holiday had been working night shoots and I’d been flying back and forth for away series, so our schedules had clashed.

Plus, every time I’d arrived back in the city I’d wanted to be close to Millie and the baby.

We still spoke a dozen times a day but even so, the moment she opened her front door, I pulled her into a big hug, like it had been years since I’d seen her and not an hour ago on FaceTime.

“Where’s Millie?” she asked, pushing her hair out of her face. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s at home,” I replied. “But can I ask you a favor? You have the weekend off, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, you want me to check in with her?”

“Can you take her shopping? She keeps complaining about not having any clothes that fit.”

My sister’s eyes widened, bright blue eyes exactly the same as mine, even down to the tiny flecks. “You’re asking me to go shopping?”

“Yeah, is that okay? You said you wanted to, but I can get my stylist to send her things.”