• •
  You and Billie collapse onto the couch, exhaustion written all over your faces. Across from you, Finneas and Claudia’s kid is sprawled out on the other couch like a crime scene chalk outline. It’s been a long day of “Don’t do that, Sunny,” “Put that down,” and, “Yeah, fine, I’ll chase you around the block. Again.”

You love the kid, sure—but let’s be honest: Sunny’s a little shit. And the only reason you agreed to babysit was for the so-called “bonding experience,” because let’s face it—you’re going to be seeing a lot more of him in the future. That is, assuming Billie eventually proposes like she’s been planning since the night you met (you’re onto her. You’ve seen the Pinterest boards).

“He’s cute. An ankle biter, but cute,” Billie mutters, throwing an arm around your shoulder with a tired grin. “I wouldn’t mind having a few of our own.”

You laugh, assuming she’s joking. No way Billie—your tough as nails girlfriend—could handle a house full of kids. Today alone felt like a decade with one kid. But when you glance over, she’s got that soft, gooey smile you’re helpless against. And then she takes your hands, pulling you into her lap with that dangerous sparkle in her eyes.

“Babe, I’m serious. Let’s make a baby.”

Now that would be a fun sight to see. A mentally unstable high school dropout (Billie), and the town’s golden girl (you) raising a kid. One that makes you want to jump up and say yes.*