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  F I F T Y O N E

  - Maeve -

  I was halfway down the hall when the intoxicating scent of fried chicken hit me, and my mouth started watering before I even realized it was coming from Finn’s place. Our place? I didn’t know what to call it anymore. I mean, it was definitely his place, but I’d been spending enough time there that he’d suggested I move in on more than one occasion.

  Not that I had any plans to sell my apartment. I was too proud of it. I’d bought it myself, decorated it myself, and at this point, it was as much a symbol of my hard work as it was an investment. Plus, no one would even consider buying it until we repaired the skirting board Otis had chewed to bits in my front room. Little monster.

  The smell intensified as I dug my keychain from my bag, along with the doggie bagel I picked up at Einstein’s on my lunch break. And when I cracked the door open and caught Finn cooking up a storm, the thought God bless this man crossed my tired mind.

  “It smells good all the way to the elevator,” I said, closing the door behind me.

  Finn was standing over the waffle iron with a cold beer in his hand. “Hey,” he said, smiling my way. “Perfect timing.”

  I kicked my heels off and headed over to greet him, noticing a pretty bouquet on the butcher block that wasn’t there when I left that morning. “Those are pretty.”

  “They’re for you,” he said, glancing towards them. “Hope you don’t mind I vased ’em already. Figured you’d rather enjoy them here than at yours.”

  “You mean because you can’t get rid of me?” I leaned in for a kiss, his lips warming me from head to toe.

  “Get rid of you?” he asked, hooking his strong arms around my waist. “I’d keep you here all day if I could. You know that.”

  He’d joked before about me quitting my stressful job, but just because he had enough hobbies (and enough money saved) to keep himself busy during the day didn’t mean I was going to hang up my career. I think my exact words were “over my dead body,” and I was grateful he hadn’t pushed the issue.

  I looked down when I felt Otis’s little paws on my leg, and squatted to pet him between his soft, floppy ears. “Hey little guy. You happy to see me or is it the doggie bagel in my pocket?”

  “You’re spoiling him,” Finn said, feigning disapproval. “That’s his third doggie bagel this week.”

  I smiled at Otis and handed the small brown bag to Finn. “You’ll break it up for him, though, won’t you? Look at that face.”

  Finn looked down to find Otis sitting tall on his best behavior, his tail flicking back and forth across the floor. “Spoiled rotten.”

  “Says the guy who gave him spaghetti last night.”

  “Boy, did we regret that today,” he said, shaking his head at his adorable sidekick. “Didn’t we?”

  “Wait, what exactly are you making?” I asked, my eyes clocking the glowing oven.

  “Chicken and waffles,” he said. “It’s a thing. Or at least, it is in the south, and you know I like to make the waffle iron earn its keep.”

  “Fine by me. It smells delicious.”

  “I’ll be sure to give Gordon Ramsay your compliments if it works out.” He set the doggie bagel on the counter and smashed it with the side of his fist, making Otis and I flinch. Then he gave him a large chunk, and Otis ran away with it like it was a T-bone steak.

  “What do they put into those things?” I asked, laughing as he disappeared around the couch.

  “Not manners!” Finn called after him, as if Otis was interested in anything but the treat in his mouth.

  “Do I have time to change before dinner?” I asked, taking a tentative step towards the bedroom, where my migrating wardrobe was beginning to seriously encroach on Finn’s side of the closet.

  “Always,” he said, checking the light on the waffle iron. “But don’t be too long because I have some news.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “What is it?”

  He lifted his chin towards the bedroom. “Go change.”

  “At least tell me if it’s good news?” I asked, turning an ear towards him.

  He flipped his palms to the sky. “Would we be having chicken and waffles if it wasn’t good news? Now hurry up. I already set the table.”

  I failed to bite back my smile. He knew I liked being bossed around from time to time. I don’t know why. I guess it helped me snap out of girlboss mode and made me feel…like a smitten teenager. Not that I’d admit that to Finn. It was hard enough pretending his affection didn’t totally go to my head.

  I hurried back to the bedroom and dug some pajama pants out of the drawer he emptied for me before stealing a Velvet Underground tee from his side of the dresser. Then I hung my skirt and jacket, made sure my pantyhose were well out of Otis’s reach, and closed myself in the bathroom.

  I needed to take a deep breath and collect my thoughts for a moment. Because Finn wasn’t the only one with big news to share.

  I faced the mirror and lifted my shirt, dropping my eyes to my belly before laying a palm flat against it. A swell of emotion rose in my throat as I thought back to that morning when I’d closed myself in the handicapped bathroom and peed on yet another stick, trying not to get emotional about it. Trying not to get my hopes up.

  But I’d taken enough pregnancy tests now that I didn’t need to dig the box out of the trash to double check what the plus sign meant. Besides, I already knew. Chalk it up to women’s intuition, but as soon as my period didn’t come this month, I knew.

  This was happening.

  Finally.

  With the greatest guy on earth.

  I dropped the T-shirt and looked up to find myself smiling. Glowing, actually. But why wouldn’t I be?

  All my dreams were coming true, even the wildest ones.

  And they smelled like chicken and waffles.

  So I let my hair down, just as Finn taught me to do.

  Then I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders back, and went to break the news to my best friend that he was going to be my baby’s daddy.

  F I F T Y T W O

  - Finn -

  Maeve had her hair down when she came back from the bedroom. Our bedroom? I suppose it was. Made me happy to think about it that way. In fact, there was nothing I didn’t enjoy more when it was shared with her. Even Otis, the rascal. To think I used to get jealous when he forgot his loyalty.

  But not with her. There was nothing I wouldn’t give her, get her, or do for her. Even better if I thought of something that would cheer her before she thought to ask. That was basically the height of happiness for me these days. Making her smile. Making her laugh. Making her forget how hard she worked all day.

  God, I was in awe of her. And not just for how smoking hot she looked in my Velvet Underground shirt. Step aside Nico, there’s a new muse in town.

  “What are you smiling about?” I asked, noticing a twinkle in her eye.

  “Just looking forward to your good news,” she said, picking up the full plates beside me. “And this downhome dinner.”

  “One bite, and you’ll think we’re in the bayou,” I said, following her to the table with the spicy syrup I made.

  “So,” she said, assuming her usual spot by the window. “Lay it on me.”

  I feared I’d overhyped the situation, but it was too late to backpedal. Maeve had a mouthful of chicken and waffles, and I had the spotlight.

  “Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her mouth as her eyes rolled back. “This is so good, Finn.”

  “How much do you like it?” I asked. “Should we make it a staple?”

  She swallowed. “Is three nights a week too many?”

  “Yeah,” I said, laughing. “Even for the waffle iron.”

  She feigned a pouty face before urging me on. “You were saying?”

  “I took an SAT test a few days ago. Just a practice one. With that tutor your colleague recommended, so we could gauge my starting point.”

  “A
nd?” Maeve grabbed the glass of water at the edge of her placemat. “How’d it go?”

  “For starters, I couldn’t believe I made it the full three hours.”

  “That is a lot of sitting for you all at once.”

  “It was hell,” I said. “I can’t believe it’s legal to force teenagers to sit still that long.”

  “Did you find out how you did yet?”

  “Well, I wasn’t supposed to find out till next week, but I think you might be rubbing off on me because I got impatient for my results.”

  Her eyes popped wide. “Did you call instead of waiting?”

  I nodded. “I’m officially high maintenance.”

  She laughed. “I love it. What did you find out?”

  “I didn’t choke!” I said, unable to hide my delight. “Those weren’t the tutor’s words, obviously, but she’s confident I’ll be able to meet the Art Institute’s admission standards.”

  “That’s awesome, Finn. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. I know it's dumb to be excited about something I should’ve done fifteen years ago, but—”

  “Not at all. The timing’s irrelevant. Nobody wants to suffer through the SATs, and the fact that you’re taking them when you don’t have to makes it even more admirable.”

  “I kind of do have to for that program I have my heart set on.”

  “You know what I mean. You could just as easily blow the whole thing off and put your goals on the backburner.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s what the old me would’ve done. Whereas Finn 2.0 is a proactive nerd who eats prep questions for breakfast.”

  Maeve laughed. “Whatever it takes.”

  I reached over to squeeze her hand. “Thanks for being so supportive.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m your biggest fan.”

  “Plus, it’s sort of your fault I’m even doing this. I was a perfectly happy, apathetic bachelor before you came along.”

  She feigned a scowl. “There’s nothing apathetic about you.”

  “I’d become listless about making art, though, until you showed up and made a big fuss. Even my music has benefitted from your company.”

  “You think?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “I was beginning to think the only reason I ever had any success at all was because of my devastating good looks.”

  She struggled to suppress a smile.

  “But I’ve written three new songs this week. Well, two and a half, but the third’s got real potential.”

  “That’s wonderful. On the piano?”

  “The first two I wrote on the guitar,” I said as I added another generous drizzle of syrup to my crispy chicken. “But the last came to me when I was tinkering with my keyboard yesterday.”

  “I’d love to hear them,” she said. “Whenever they’re ready for an audience.”

  “Of course.” I stabbed a piece of waffle with my fork. “Got a few kinks to work out first, but you’ll get a private concert as soon as they’re fit for your fine ears.”

  Her eyes smiled. “Have you ever thought about writing a lullaby?”

  I swallowed the bite I was chewing. “A lullaby?”

  Her big brown eyes went shiny.

  My heart seized in my chest, and the air left my lungs. “For real?”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded as tears filled her eyes.

  I stood and swept her into my arms, hugging her tighter than ever until the irrational thought that I might crush the baby crossed my mind. “When did you find out?”

  “This morning,” she said. “But I wanted to tell you in person.”

  I peppered her face with kisses before leaning back to look at her. “You’re growing a human, and you let me go on about my practice test?!”

  “Are you excited?”

  “Excited?!” I said, my voice cracking. “All I do is write lullabies now! Full time. You need a lullaby? I’m your guy.” I yanked at my hair like I could pluck the racing thoughts from my head. “Oh shit, I’m going to be a dad… And you’re going to be a mom!”

  “I know,” she said, her eyes glassy crescents. “Pretty crazy.”

  “And Otis is going to be a big brother!” We both glanced towards the couch in time to see his furry gold brows rise up over the arm of it before he went back to his nap. “Maeve.”

  “Finn.”

  “Thank you.” I didn’t know what I was feeling, only that it was good. Relief mixed with nervous anticipation. Joy mixed with…nervous anticipation.

  “I should be thanking you,” she said, her lips pulling to one side. “You’re the one that usually does most of the work.”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure you can call it work if I enjoy every minute of it.”

  Her smile squeezed a tear from her eyes.

  I swiped it away and held her cheek in my hand, my heart so swollen with love I thought it might burst. “I won’t let you down,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m going to be the best dad ever, just you wait.”

  “I can’t,” she said, another tear rolling down her cheek. “I literally can’t wait.”

  I pressed my lips to hers, and she threw her arms around me, her body bowing against mine.

  And I thought, this is it.

  This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, the woman I was made for.

  It’s her.

  She is the adventure I was meant for.

  E P I L O G U E

  - Maeve -

  I turned the page in the latest baby book I was reading while Finn fingerpicked a gentle melody on the opposite side of the couch. Behind him, a summer shower blurred my view of the stone building across the street. “Did you hear back from the admissions department yet?”

  “Nope,” he said, not missing a note in the sweet song he was playing. “Unless they tried to call when I was on the phone with Max this morning.”

  “He did keep you on for longer than usual,” I said. “Everything okay?”

  “Looks like it might be,” he said. “For the first time in a long time.”

  My brows rose with interest. “What does that mean?”

  “Janie came to his show in Orlando, and he spent last weekend at Harry Potter World with the girls.”

  “Wow.” Brie would be jealous. “So you think they’re going to work things out?”

  “I hope so,” he said, still plucking away. “She’s good for him.”

  “It would be nice for little Belle to have some cousins.”

  Finn froze and looked up at me. “What?”

  “Our little nugget’s the size of a bell pepper this week,” I said, cupping my growing belly with one hand.

  “Jesus. I thought you found out the sex of the baby without me.”

  I cocked my head. “I wouldn’t do that. Plus, I told you I wanted to be surprised.”

  His lips flapped with his exhale like I’d given him a real shock.

  I rolled my eyes. “So dramatic.”

  “My family thinks you’re doing that just to torture them, by the way.”

  “Is it terrible that I don’t care what they think?” I asked, scrunching my face. “My mom always said it’s the most fun surprise you can have in life, so I feel like knowing ahead of time would be…anticlimactic.”

  He shrugged. “Fine by me. I’m enjoying the suspense.”

  “Me too.”

  Finn picked up his melody where he left off before nodding to my right. “Looks like somebody’s not getting enough attention.”

  I stared down into Otis’s big round eyes and set my book against the back of the couch so he could hop into my lap, which he did immediately. Then he snuggled between my thighs and rolled over.

  “Boy, is he in for a shock,” Finn said as Otis arched his back and lifted his paws up by his chin.

  “Look at that gorgeous belly,” I cooed, giving him a little rub, his cheeks flapping back so his wide smile loo
ked even more exaggerated.

  Finn shot me a mischievous look. “Not as gorgeous as mom’s belly.”

  Heat bloomed across my cheeks.

  He leaned back against the far side of the couch. “I like that name, by the way.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What name?”

  “Belle,” he said. “And Pepper.”

  I dipped my chin. “We’re not naming our baby after a fajita ingredient.”

  “I think it’s cute.”

  “Only because you’re a musician, and you’ve met too many hippies in your short life.”

  “Too many hippies?” he asked, looking at me like I was crazy. “Is there such a thing?”

  “No food names.”

  “Damn,” he said. “So Pancake is out?”

  I laughed. “Pancake is out. Freaking adorable, but out.”

  “We could make something up,” he said. “What’s your favorite word?”

  “Vorfreude.”

  He shook his head. “Too German.”

  “How’d you choose the name, Otis?”

  “Because of the film Milo and Otis.”

  I looked at him blankly.

  “You haven’t seen Milo and Otis?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Thank God we met,” he said. “What the heck did you watch as a kid?”

  “The Brave Little Toaster. Over and over, every chance I got.”

  He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re pumped we’ll have an excuse to watch kids’ movies again, aren’t you?”

  “So pumped,” he said. “Not that you should need an excuse to watch kids’ movies. Most of them are better than the stuff they make for adults these days.”

  “I’ll drink to that… Next Christmas.”

  He laughed. “Missing your wine?”

  I held up two fingers and pinched an invisible thimble of air as if to say, just a bit.

  “What do you think of the name Shiraz?”

  “I think you’re trying to torture me,” I said. “And I’d rather our baby didn’t grow up to be a stripper.”