****

****

A positive pregnancy test and a baby daddy who thinks we should move in together is not how I planned my last semester of college.

Yet, here I am.

People have babies and raise them in separate homes everyday. Our situation should be no different, but when the father of my baby makes me an offer I can’t refuse, I find myself sleeping in the softest bed of my entire life.

I find myself dreaming of a life I’d thought I’d never have.

I come home to a man who can’t wait to see me, who spoils me, and doesn’t do everything he can to make a loving home.

It’s possible we can be a real family.

But here’s the thing, if an unplanned pregnancy taught me anything, it’s that change can happen all too quickly. Even when it comes to love.

****

****

Chapter One

Mark

Study, gym, eat, and repeat.

It’s been a solid three weeks of this routine, and today should be no different. It’s finally starting to feel like my life is under control again.

And my life needs control. I need control. It’s what I’m used to. It’s what I like. It makes me happy.

I’ll be the first to admit that for a moment last fall, I lost sight of what I wanted in life, but what I want now is clear as day. I’m just not sure how to go about it quite yet.

I lock my front door and turn for my truck, ready to start my daily routine, but a bobbing gray head just over the hood of my truck stops me.

“Good morning, Mr. Young,” my neighbor says as she shuffles to her car.

“Ms. Coraline,” I greet her with a smile. She’s carrying two plastic grocery bags, and they are stuffed full of something with sharp corners, because they are ripping the bags.

“May I help you?” I ask, walking a little faster but not too fast that I might slip on the ice that coats our driveways on this chilly January morning.

“No. No. I can do this.”

Now, I know for a fact that Ms. Coraline cannot drive. She hasn’t driven in more than a decade. Her grandson and his wife take her wherever she needs to go, but she refuses to give up her car. Her husband loved this car, and even though he’s passed on now, she can’t stand to see it go. And if anyone understands not wanting to give up something important in your life, it’s me.

“What do you have there?” I ask, pointing to the bags.

“Books.”

“Books, huh?” I say, relieving her of the makeshift hand weights. “These are pretty heavy. Where were you planning to take them?”

“I wanted to donate them to the library. I read them years ago, and they are just collecting dust on my shelfs. When my time comes, I want my grandson to have very little responsibility when it comes to cleaning out my house.”

“I think you’ve still got quite a few years ahead of you.”

“You’re probably right. Little by little should do it, though. Where are you off to? To talk to that pretty girl you’re having a baby with?” Her brow dances as she stares at me. “You should have talked to her weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know it.”

“So, what’s keeping you? And don’t give me any more of that ‘it’s complicated’ phony bologna. I want the truth.”

I chuckle, because if anyone is going to get it out of me, it’s Ms. Coraline.

When I moved in a few weeks ago, she showed up as soon as the last moving truck left. She admitted to watching through the window. Said a wild single gal lived here before me, and Ms. Coraline wanted to be sure she wasn’t going to have to call the cops on me too.

I assured her she wouldn’t be doing that, and this woman read me like the front page. Somehow, I confessed a lot more to her than to a typical stranger.

I knew from that moment that I’d be seeing a lot of her. In the last few weeks, we have had coffee together at least fifteen mornings.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” I admit.

“I know this part already. Now come inside. I have an appointment this morning, so I need to have my coffee quickly, and I’m sure your friends are waiting for you at the gym.”

“Sure, let me just put these bags in my car. I’ll drop them off for you.”

“You are too kind. Now, hurry up.”

I jog to my truck, stash the bags, and head next door. There are two coffee cups at the table when I step inside.

“Sip and spill it, dear. My grandson will be here in less than ten minutes.”

I decide to leave my coat on and take a seat.

“All right. Well—”

“Give me the short version.”

I chuckle and toss my head back. This is how she gets things out of me. She doesn’t want to dive deep. No dwelling on the details. She wants facts so she can suggest a solution and then call it good.

“I cheated and the other woman, Sydney, got pregnant, as you know. I didn’t react the way I should have when she told me about the baby, and now, I think I’ve waited too long. I don’t know what to say to her. I mean, I’ve texted her here and there, but heck, Ms. Coraline, she’s into the second trimester already. I’m not winning any gold medals for future father of the year.”

She nods slowly. Having her to talk to has been nice. I’d talk this over with my friends, but now that my best friend is dating my ex, and my other close friend is dating my ex’s best friend, it’s nice to have an outsider who listens. Someone who doesn’t hesitate to share an opinion with me. Who doesn’t rehearse her answers as if she needs to use her words very carefully. My friends mean well, but I did put us in an uncomfortable situation for a while. Everyone seems to be moving on now, so I don’t really want to bring up my cheating when they are all doing well.

“I see. Well, today is better than never if you ask me.”

I tell myself that every morning, and yet, it still hasn’t happened. I think I’m stalling because I’ve already messed up so much. The pressure I put on myself to get this right is disgusting.

“I don’t know what to say to her.”

She waves a hand in front of my face and huffs. “‘I’m sorry’ works as a great opening line.”

“Yeah, I gather it might.”

“And don’t text her. Call her. Find her. Talk to her in person.”

I take a breath. This is where it’s complicated. When it comes to my feelings for Sydney, I don’t fully understand them. I’m terrified as hell for our unknown future, but when I think of her being a part of it, a small piece of me relaxes. Until we slept together, being together was a lot of fun. Yeah, our friendship was new, but it was easy. It was natural. Now . . .  it’s awkward. Cheating aside, this is why friends don’t have sex.

“Grandma, are you ready?” Ms. Coraline’s grandson dips his head in the door. “Oh, hey Mark. How’s it going?”

“Good.” I stand to help Ms. Coraline and hold her coat for her. She locks up behind us, and I wish them both a good day before I hop into my truck and head to the campus gym.

***

My shirt clings to my chest as I hold my position, dragging out the last exercise of our workout.

The first one to break buys lunch.

“Something on your mind?” Tripp, one of my good buddies, asks as we plank next to each other.

“I’m good.”

“I call bullshit,” Winston says from the other side of me.

“Yeah, these gym sessions lately are killer, but I know they are just hiding something,” Tripp grunts. “So, you need to spill.”

On the drive to campus, I thought about my discussion with my neighbor. I need to talk to Sydney, and I need to do it today. There are so many topics we need to cover, but the biggest one is where we will raise the baby. She can’t raise it in the dorms, and I have a house now, so it makes sense for her to move in with me. It’s a crazy idea, but I really do feel like it’s the right place to start.

Whether or not I mention it to my friends is another thing.

I break my form and drop my knees to the ground.

Looks like lunch is on me.

“I need to get home and shower.”

“And then what?” Winston drops to his knees too. “Sit around and do nothing till lunch?”

“I don’t do nothing,” I reply and wipe my face with a towel.

“Okay, what do you do? And I still don’t understand why you bought a house if you plan to move back to Manhattan. You should be smart with your money and rent.”

If anyone should know that money isn’t an issue for me, it’s Winston. Living in upper Manhattan was how we all met. Then, when Winston’s family moved to Wyoming to be closer to his mother’s family, and Tripp and I were looking for something different after graduating high school, we joined Winston here for college.

Winston is moving back after graduation this spring, and if my plans stay true, I will too.

“Buying is fine till I have things sorted out.”

Moving is complicated. Everything is complicated. I really have no other way to describe it. Baby or no baby, the plan was always for me to go back.

“Not to hit a sore subject, but how does Sydney feel about moving?”

I chug some water and look at Tripp.

If he’s the one to bring it up first, I should take the opening, right? But I’ve yet to even tell Sydney, since we hardly talk. She and I have had this constant one-word text chain we need to move past. It’s nothing like it was last semester, but one drunken night later and she’s pregnant and nothing’s the same.

We can’t dance around each other forever. We need to work together on this.

“You haven’t told her?” Winston asks.

“We haven’t had much time to talk about things, and when we do, it’s short-lived.”

It’s hard to have a civil conversation with someone who thinks I don’t want to be involved. I’ve made mistakes. Who hasn’t? I can’t dwell on them forever, and she shouldn’t either.

“Well, you two should probably talk about living arrangements, because I have a feeling that she won’t be too keen on moving across the country with some guy she’s not even dating.”

“We’re having a baby,” I say, deadpan.

“So?” Tripp cuts in. “People raise children apart all the time.”

“I know they do, but I don’t think that will be Sydney and me. We’ll live together.”

Both my friends chuckle, and I roll my eyes. “What?”

“Just because two people are having a baby doesn’t mean that they have the same idea on how to raise it. You need to talk to Sydney.”

And I will talk to Sydney, but my friends are wrong. I can’t afford to make mistakes again.

From this day forward with Sydney, there isn’t room to make the wrong choice.

Sydney

Earning an education is challenging, and as someone who has spent the last year and a half going to school for fun, this whole “focus so you can graduate” mindset sort of sucks.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew what I was getting into when I started college. I applied with the intention of putting my head down, skipping parties, and graduating like the vast majority of students do. I’d find a good paying job with my degree, and I’d live comfortably. Eventually, I would meet a guy and we would date and then fall in love, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after.

For my first semester, I was rocking this plan. Then I met Tripp McCain and, wow. A rich boy from Manhattan who lived his life as if he had no worries in the world when it came to his finances. He could do anything he wanted whenever he wanted, and money was never a thought. For me, a girl who grew up with a family who barely made ends meet, this was fascinating.

My family wasn’t poor by any means, but we budgeted for new cars years in advance. Dinner out was for special occasions only. A straight-A report card for me or my older brother did not count. And brand-name clothing was a fight with my mother that usually ended up with me in tears because I was never going to fit in with the other girls in my grade. My parents always made sure I had food, clothes, and a warm bed. They never lacked when it came to showing me their affection, but yeah, money was at the front of every choice our family made, and it was definitely the start to every late-night fight my parents had.

So, it’s safe to say that meeting Tripp opened my eyes to this new way of life, and as soon as he invited me into it, I was addicted. It didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at too. What did hurt was how hard I fell into thinking I could have that life that even when my feelings for Tripp were gone, I still hung around because I badly wanted a life with financial freedom. I fell so hard; I forgot what I wanted in life and who I was.

And now that Tripp is out of the picture, it feels like I’m starting over to reach my goals. Hence, trying to focus on whatever my professor is saying right now. I should be paying attention—but I can’t think straight to listen to him at the moment.

An elbow bumps my arm, and I almost do a face-plant onto the table. 

“Are you even paying attention?” my best friend June whispers as Professor Russel flips another slide on the projector in front of us. Yes, a projector. Professor Russel is very old school when it comes to teaching, and yet, as a graphic arts professor, he requires all our homework to be done digitally. I’m not sure if this is some twisted way to make us work harder or not.

“I might have zoned out, yes,” I whisper back.

June scribbles something on a notebook and hands it back to me. We might be twenty-two and in college but getting caught talking during class is still something no one wants to be called out for.

She turns the notebook to face me.

How are you feeling?

Fine.

Are you sure? You look sleepy.

That’s the polite way to tell someone they look like shit.

That’s not what I meant, and you know it.

I know. Yes, I could take a nap, but I can’t skip any more classes.

It’s only January and the start of a new semester, but I have a goal to not miss class as much as I did last fall. Some parts of life are out of my control, so I need to start putting my focus on the things I can control. Things such as my current living situation, my bank account, my education, and the big one: my health.

I have a good idea about how I want them to all work out—it’s putting the plan into motion that gets me all hung up. Currently, living on my best friend’s couch isn’t ideal, but I can’t move into the apartment where I signed a contract for another six weeks. The current tenants gave a sixty-day notice, and I was lucky as hell that I happened to be in Love’s A Brewing getting an iced green tea when the current landlord was meeting with someone to open an ad for the two-bedroom space.

As far as my bank account goes, well, June letting me crash rent free for six weeks does let me save up a little. The tips I make at The Stackhouse are decent, and if I start working a couple more nights a week, I’ll be okay for a bit. Eventually, I’ll need another job, but I’ll worry about that when the time is here.

“See you next Tuesday!” Professor Russell’s voice startles me. No one notices. No one except June.

“When is your next class?” she asks as soon as we gather our things and walk out of the room.

“Thirty minutes.”

“Ouch. Why do you have them so close together this semester? And why are you taking so many classes?”

Because at the beginning of the last semester, I thought I was going to end up with a man who would buy me anything I wanted, and I slacked off. Then I slept with his best friend, and everything went to shit.

“I can’t afford to take less classes this semester. Who knows if I’ll have time for school in the fall, you know?” is how I answer instead. 

“Well, if you ask me—”

“Hey, Sydney. Do you have a minute?”

June and I both twist around to see Mark Young walking up behind us.

I knew this moment would come. Us, talking in person. If it wasn’t him showing up now, it was going to be me this weekend when I had a day off.

“I’ll see you later, Sydney. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure will,” I say as June hugs me goodbye.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted something, but I wanted to catch you before your next class.”

“It’s fine,” I say, and an awkward silence falls between us.

It wasn’t always like this, and I miss what it was like before.

He clears his throat. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” I look at the ground.

“I texted you.”

“I know.” I adjust the backpack on my shoulder.

“You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“You didn’t exactly start a conversation.”

“I said hi.”

I look up and pretend to be stunned.

“Exactly. That’s all you said.”

“Well, I never know if you want to talk. You never text me or call me or reach out in any other way.”

“When I have something to share, I will. Otherwise, we don’t have much to talk about.”

“You don’t think we have much to talk about? Sydney, we’re having a baby together. I’d say we have a lot to talk about.”

“Well.” I toss my arms up and look around as if what I want to say is written in the clouds or on a sign somewhere. “I don’t have any new updates. What would we talk about?”

“I don’t know. Stuff.”

“Stuff? Like . . . how are your classes? How is work going? How’s the gym? How are your friends? What should we talk about? We don’t have to share everything together.”

I turn and start walking toward my next class. Mark is quickly at my side.

“I didn’t say we had to. I just—”

“Look, it’s like I told you when we found out I was pregnant, Mark. If you want to be a part of this baby’s life, great. If not, that’s fine too. I can do this on my own.”

Honestly, it broke my heart the day I told him, and he cried. My heart hurt even more in the weeks after. It wasn’t that I expected him to just leave his girlfriend and fall madly in love with me all because I was having his baby but watching him fight to win a woman back who wasn’t me stung. It was like a reminder that my future wouldn’t be the grand, carefree life I’d been hoping it would be one day. I finally realized that I would struggle forever. I’ll be a great mom, but I’ll struggle.

God, that’s depressing to think about.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sydney. I’m responsible for this too. I’m here.”

I stop and hold up my hand. “You’re here because you’re responsible?”

“Yeah.”

“Not because you want to be.”

“No. Yeah, I do. I am, I—”

“Am keeping me from getting to class? Yes, you are. Figure it out or don’t. I already told you this. I’d rather you leave me to do this on my own than for me or this baby to feel like an obligation to you.”

“That’s not even what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

He thinks for a moment, then grips the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I had this whole idea that I’d find you and we’d talk, and now I’m clearly saying the wrong things.”

I open my mouth to say something snappy because that’s just how it works for me these days, but his shoulders sag. I pause. I glance over at the man in front of me. His six-foot frame has always towered over me, but his typically clean-shaven facial hair is scruffier than normal. His black hair looks like it’s had hands tugging on it all day long, and the circles under his eyes are dark.

Despite everything, I feel bad for him.

We really were becoming good friends last semester. Until we messed it up.

Yes, my life is changing, but his is too. He clearly isn’t handling it as well as I am.

“I have to go.”

I walk past him, and he doesn’t even try to stop me.

I’m glad he doesn’t. Even though I held my own just now to show him that I’m capable of doing this on my own, on the inside I’m terrified of doing this alone.

Chapter Two

Sydney

Working is the best way to clear my mind.

I’m too focused on whether I took table six a side of ranch or refilled the tea at table eight or entered table seven’s dinner order into the computer to think about my current situation. 

“Hey, Sydney, I just sat your table nine,” Bella says and fans her face. “He’s a hottie.”

“Oooh,” I answer playfully even though finding a hottie, as she called him, is not on my to-do list.

I shoot her wink before I head off for my new guest.

“Hey, there, welcome . . . what are you doing here?” I snap when my eyes meet Mark’s emerald gaze. I don’t know how they grow them on the East Coast, but they do a pretty damn good job. Still, his attractiveness doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I want to talk.”

“Oh god. Mark, we had this conversation already, and I’m working.”

Nothing he would know anything about, I’m sure. Ha, I’d love to see him wait tables. 

“This time I actually have something to tell you.”

“Text it to me later, okay?” I ask, keeping my voice down to avoid making a scene.

“So you can not reply to me like you always do with a single word? Nope. I’ll wait right here.”

“I’m working,” I wave my note pad around me at the tables I’ve been assigned. One of them is ready to order dinner and another is ready to check out.

I step away, but Mark reaches out to grab my hand. “Five minutes, please.”

“Miss, we’d like to check out.”

“Yes, I’m—”

Mark twists in his seat. “Give me five minutes, ten tops, with her and I’ll buy your entire dinner. Order dessert. Order food for tomorrow. Just please give me ten more minutes.”

The father of the table glances at his wife, who shrugs, and then they nod. “We’ll take the double chocolate cake to go when you’re finished.”

I force a smile.

“That was disgusting,” I say to Mark.

It must be nice to just hand out money and not think of which bill you’re going to be late on this month or which subscription you need to cancel to buy a new pair of shoes because the ones you wear to work make your back hurt.

God, I miss Hulu.

“That’s how desperate I am to talk to you right now, Sydney,” he pleads.

All my tables are watching now. Fantastic. There go all my tips, I’m sure.

“Fine. How about you give me ten minutes to get my tables caught up and then I’ll get someone to cover for me so we can talk.”

“Thank you.” His shoulders relax as he looks at the menu.

I yank it from his grip. “If you seriously think I’m going to wait on you, you’re nuts. Go wait up front,” I tell him and hold out my hand.

Mark looks at it and then at me, and when he starts to reach for it with his own hand, I jerk it back. “I need your credit card to pay for their dinner.”

“Oh, right. Here you go.”

***

Twenty minutes later, I can’t put him off anymore.

“What’s so important?” I ask, meeting Mark in a booth where my tables can’t see me sitting on the clock. I cross my arms across my chest and stare at him as I wait for his reply.

He leans forward, like he just can’t wait to tell me his news.

“We need to figure out a time that works to move your things into my house. It has five bedrooms and it’s only a few blocks from the college and you can have your own room and I think—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, did I miss the conversation where we agreed to move in with each other?”

Is he crazy?

“I was thinking we should. Don’t you?”

“Nooooo. No, no, no. Definitely not.”

Yep. He’s crazy.

“Well, you can’t keep living in the dorms. This baby will be here a month after graduation. We need to set up a baby room, and babyproof stuff. If we wait till after graduation to move out, we will be cutting it close.”

I nod.

“I’m way ahead of you there. I moved out over Christmas break.”

“What? Where to?”

“To June’s apartment.”

He sits back in the booth and drops his hands to his sides.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I know. That’s why I’m telling you.”

He closes his eyes, something I learned last semester means he’s focusing on thinking before he speaks.

“Look, I know you said we don’t need to tell each other everything, but big things, like where we live, I think those are worthy of sharing, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Well, it is. Christmas break, Sydney? That was weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I was supposed to text you that I moved while you were in Mexico trying to win your ex-girlfriend back.”

He cringes.

“Look, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but if you’re going to sit here and tell me that I need to get my priorities straight, then it should work both ways, and priority number one is this baby.”

A smile tugs at his lips.

“What?” I roll my eyes.

Even when I’m annoyed with him, his smile could make anyone return the expression.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Right.

“Is that all?”

“Well, considering we haven’t decided on where we should live, no, it’s not.”

“Why do you keep saying we? I still don’t remember who said we were living together.”

“It just makes sense, Sydney.”

“So does waiting to have children after you’re married, but we didn’t do that either, and we don’t have to do this. Now, I have to get back to work. Some of us have to make money, Mark.”

“You don’t have to work. I can support us.”

I make a gagging noise and then shake my head. “Have a good night, Mark.”

“Sydney, we aren’t done talking.”

“Yes, we are,” I shout and then yell “corner” as I make my way into the kitchen.

Well damn, my baby’s father has lost his mind.

This is a wonderful start to the future.

Mark

I’m two for two in striking out with Sydney in conversation this week. I really don’t know why I can’t figure out what to say to her. Hell, when she was putting me in my place last night, the way she used to do all the time, I couldn’t help but smile.

I didn’t intend to show up at her work and get her all riled up, but damn, I didn’t realize how much I missed her quick wit or how she isn’t afraid to talk back to me.

I’m used to people agreeing with me, but not Sydney.

Should I like that?

My life feels like it’s falling apart, but when I was with her last night, even if it didn’t go as I hoped, being near her felt right.

God. My mind is messed up.

Sure, yeah, it’s fine to fall for my baby’s mother, but right now isn’t exactly the time to ask her on a date. I need her to want to be my friend again first.

I need a new game plan when it comes to Sydney. I’m the father and I have rights, but I want this to work with us. I want us to co-parent on our terms and be damn good at it. I want our child to have parents who get along and can be at events together without fighting.

I want what I didn’t get as a kid.

I enter the password on my laptop and pull an assignment from one of my classes. School is the one place that is smooth sailing right now.

My mind is lost in studying when my phone buzzes next to me. My father’s name appears, and I can hear him before I even answer. What’s the point of owning a cell phone if you aren’t going to answer it or text someone back?

I’ve been ignoring his calls for a few weeks now. Heck, I was ignoring them before it dawned on me that no matter what I say to him, there is a slight, slight chance I might not be back in Manhattan as soon as we planned, and he is not going to be happy about it.

It’s not that I’m trying to hide anything. I know what outcome that will lead to, but I don’t know what words to say to him. I made a deal with him before I moved out here, and even if I hadn’t, I want the job he’s offering me. I want to be in Manhattan. Raising a kid there would be pretty sweet too. But that only works if the baby’s mom is on board.

That part . . . yeah, that’s going to be tricky.

I stand.

I sit.

I stand again and start to pace.

“Hey, Dad,” I answer before the phone stops ringing.

“I was beginning to think I needed to send a search party out to Wyoming to find you,” my father answers. “I’m glad you finally answered my call.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“So am I. It’s not like you to ignore me.”

“Yeah, sorry about that too.”

“How about instead of saying sorry, you tell me what’s going on. Now, you know the circle we run in here in Manhattan. I’ve heard things. Too many things. I need you to set the story straight.”

To be honest, if my father were mad right now or used a dominant tone, this would be easier to say, but since he’s just using his kind dad voice that says he genuinely wants me to talk to him, it chokes up every word I need to say.

I clear my throat.

Time to get this over with.

“Well, if you heard that I cheated on Kass last fall and got someone pregnant, the rumors are true. Her name is Sydney, she’s about nineteen weeks along, and we are still intending to graduate at the end of this semester.”

Of all the details I could share, that’s what I picked.

Maybe it’s because knowing that I’m still graduating on time means I’m sticking to our plan for me.

I hear a long sigh at the end. “And is she going to move with you when the school year is over?”

Cutting right to the point, isn’t he?

 “I haven’t talked to her about that.”

And I don’t plan to. Not yet anyway. Moving is definitely a conversation for later.

“I see. Before I share my opinion on everything happening in your life, what do you think I’m going to say? You and I think a lot alike, so I have the feeling there isn’t anything I can say that you haven’t already thought to yourself.”

“You’re probably right. You’d tell me that the right thing to do would be to accept that I was wrong and apologize to Kass, which I did. Then you’d tell me that I need to make sure the mother of my child knows I will be here for her every step of the way, which I have, and then you’d tell me that I need to start making better choices and be the man you raised me to be. The people in my life deserve better, and I need to start showing them that I know that.”

“If you already know all this, why haven’t you answered my calls?”

“Because, Dad, we had a deal, and things are complicated now.”

“Yeah, they might be for a little while, but you know how to uncomplicate them.”

“Do I?”

It’s nice that he has this assured faith in me to fix this, but if I had known the right choices to begin with, I wouldn’t be where I am. And I hate that I feel guilty about what I’ve done, but I wouldn’t take it back. I also hate that that sentence makes no sense to me. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I just know that I want to be here for Sydney. I just want her to be in Manhattan, but if I remember anything about Sydney from last semester, it’s that she won’t jump at the chance to leave her family to follow me.

“You do, and I trust that you will find a way sooner rather than later.”

“Well, I’m glad someone believes in me.”

“Ah, well, I do. Not to mention the deal we made. You do remember that one, right?”

I nod even though he can’t see me.

“And to think I thought your dating Kass would ruin it. I was wrong.”

My initial instinct is to defend Kass, but my father has always believed that women are a distraction, so it’s not personal. It’s just who he is. It’s annoying, but I can’t change him and I’m not going to try.

“If anyone messed things up, it’s me, Dad—and I do remember our deal. Nothing changed. I might not be back in May, since that’s right before the baby is born, but by fall, I will be there.”

“Well, as long as you make it back before the fall social when I announce your position with the company. You might just be the COO- in-training, but it’s a very important role, Mark. I don’t want to hand this out to anyone.”

“I know.”

I’ll never forget the day I told my father I was going to move to Wyoming for school. Our discussion was intense because I was supposed to be introduced as COO-in-training that year. In the end, if I still wanted a position with his company when I returned, I had to follow his rules. None of my friends, not even Kass, know that I’ve been taking classes online on top of all my courses in person. My father isn’t about to let some uneducated kid join his company, even if it’s his son. No, I’ll join with degrees I earned and then train for a year until the current COO retires. The transition has been set for years. I don’t plan to change it.

But now I’ll be bringing a family back with me.

“Your mother and sister are coming out for graduation. I think I’ll join them. I’d like to meet Sydney.”

I laugh. “You’ll like her. She’s smart, driven, hard-working, and she knows when to put me in my place.”

“What’s her family like?”

He’s asking for their status in society. I don’t really know. I never asked because it doesn’t matter to me.

“Well, her brother hates me, but her mom seems to think I’m all right,” is the answer I give him. I met Sydney’s mother once. To say I was shocked as shit to learn that Sydney was so obsessed about the country club because her mom works there is an understatement.

My dad laughs, and I hear his other line ring.

“I have to take this. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Dad.”

He clicks off without a goodbye.

That didn’t go as badly as I thought it would. He doesn’t seem too disappointed in me. Then again, none of my choices are messing with his plans for his company, so what does he really have to be upset about?

I head into the kitchen and open the fridge. Now, when it comes to Sydney, my next move better be the right one.

Chapter Three

Mark

I grab the scones I baked this morning and my thermos of coffee and head next door. If anyone is going to have advice for me, it’s Ms. Coraline.

I knock twice and step inside like I have the last few mornings.

“Good morning,” I call out. “Are you ready for coffee and company?”

“Are you ready for your therapy session?” she calls out in return.

“Since when did you start calling them that?”

“Since I started to look forward to the mornings you come over so that I can problem solve. Makes me feel useful in this three-story house where I can only meander on the main level.”

I glance around. “It’s a beautiful home though.”

“No need to butter me up, dear. Let’s chat. Tell me about the updated news on you and Syd.

So, tell me. How are things going?”

I rub the back of my neck and offer her a scone. She takes her first bite just as I say, “I suggested that we move in together.”

She stops mid-bite. “You did what? Why? To scare the poor girl away?”

“No. We’re having a baby together. It just makes sense.”

Does no one think like I do?

“Just because you think that doesn’t mean she does. Not to mention, if the two of you weren’t really speaking as you said, then you skipped a lot of steps.”

“I think we did that when we got pregnant.”

“So? That doesn’t mean you can’t start now.”

“Considering she thinks I’m a lunatic now, I don’t think anything is going to start between us.”

“Well, have you thought of apologizing?”

“For suggesting we move in together?”

“For going about it all wrong. You need to get to know her, Mark, and that means taking it slow. Not moving in together.”

“So just ask her to hang out. We are sort of on a time crunch.”

“Honey, you two are tied together for life. You have all the time in the world.”

Damn. She has a point.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Hanging out with the woman who is going to be your child’s mother isn’t simple?”

I cock my head. How does she turn everything I say around on me in a way that makes me see it differently?

“Okay, so, I’ll just text her.”

I pull out my phone and open my contacts.

“You need to call her,” Ms. Coraline cuts me off before I can even begin to type out a message. “Ask her to do something that has no pressure. Nothing baby related. Something you are both comfortable with that puts the two of you on common ground.”

“I don’t exactly call a lot of people. Shoot, my dad had been calling me for weeks and I just spoke with him yesterday.”

“Trust me. Call her.”

“All right, I’ll call her when I leave.”

“No. You should do it now. So I can help you if you need it.”

I chuckle, but she doesn’t think anything about this conversation is funny. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

My gaze flickers between her and my cell phone before I finally give in.

I sure hope Sydney is awake on this fine Saturday morning at 7:00 a.m.

“Mark, are you being serious right now?” is how she answers.

“As a heart attack,” I blurt out before thinking.

“What do you want?”

“I . . .”

Ms. Coraline nods and just points at the phone. Whatever that means.

“I wanted to see if you were free to hang out tonight.”

“I’m working.”

“What about this afternoon?”

“I have to study. Which would be a lot more fun if I got to sleep past seven this morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mark, we don’t have to do this. Make this into something it’s not.”

“I want to hang out with you, Sydney. Not because we are having a baby together but because I genuinely want to be around you.”

The line goes so quiet that I pull the phone back to see if she hung up.

She didn’t.

She’s probably just as shocked by my outburst as I am.

“Fine, but I get to pick out what we do.”

“That works for me.”

“I’ll send you an address tomorrow.”

“Why not just tell me now?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She laughs. “Goodbye, Mark.”

I hang up and set my phone down.

“Well, I’ll be. You do know how to smile.” Ms. Coraline winks at me.

I guess I do.

Because of Sydney.

I refill my cup and do the same for Ms. Coraline.

Today is off to a great start. Sydney didn’t shut me down, but just because she said yes this time, doesn’t mean she will for everything.

She’s going to make me work for this, isn’t she?

Sydney

I didn’t go crazy when it came to picking out something to do with Mark.

But I’ve really been wanting to do this escape room. Normally, I do them with June, but she’s been so busy lately that I took my open window with Mark.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that he said he actually wanted to hang out with me. I miss hanging out with him, too, but I’m not going to be the first to admit it.

I still didn’t expect him to say yes so quickly to me picking the activity.

Mark steps through the main doors and cautiously looks around the small building. The smile he gives me reminds me of our first day of class together last semester. I’d been crying—boys tend to have that hold over girls sometimes—when he stepped into the room. It was just us. He didn’t ask why I was crying or even try to make it better. He just sat next to me and started to read his book. When the tears stopped, he looked at me and smiled.

It was a smile that actually made me feel like someone was seeing me.

Just like he’s doing right now.

“What is this place?” He nods toward the check-in counter where a single man is standing in front of a long hallway with three doors on each side. “Is this like a secret club of some kind? Oh, shit, are you in a cult?”

I roll my eyes at the familiar teasing. “Yes, you caught me. I’m in a cult.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that when we had class together last semester, you never questioned the professor. You just took his assignments and did them. People in cults do that too.”

I laugh out loud.

“That’s the whole point of going to college. To listen and learn. Sorry I wasn’t you and had a reason to object to our assignments every single day.”

“Hey, it’s thanks to me that we got out of a few quizzes, now, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Yes, but I also remember one essay that was extended by two thousand words thanks to you.”

“Once. It happened once.”

We both laugh as we make our way to check-in.

“Hi there, do you have a reservation?” the man asks.

“Yes, it’s under Quinn.”

“Quinn . . . got it. For Death in Room Five.”

“Death in Room Five,” Mark repeats rather loudly as his eyes widen.

“It’ll be fun. Relax.”

“Sounds relaxing.” His voice drips with sarcasm.

We follow the employee back to one of the doors where he goes into a monologue about how there were six patients in an insane asylum and the one in room five was murdered. We have to put the clues together to find out who did it. Was it one of the other four patients or the night nurse?

As soon as he locks us in the room, a timer on the wall starts a one-hour countdown.

“Huh.” Mark spins in a circle to take in the room. It looks like an operation room in a hospital, but one that is a mess, like a fight occurred before someone died.

“What?” I ask, beginning to pick up random items, looking for clues.

“The last thing I would have expected today was for you to pick something that locked us in a room together.”

Oh. I never thought of that. Until this moment, I almost forgot we haven’t spoken much lately.

“You get what you get,’’ I say, focusing on finding the first piece to the game. “I still can’t believe you called me yesterday. June and I barely talk on the phone. It feels so . . . junior high.”

“Yeah, it did, but Ms. Coraline insisted I had to call in person. She’s going to be thrilled to hear you picked something that could easily be interpreted as team building.”

“Who is Ms. Coraline?”

His back stiffens as he picks up a book and looks under it.

“Um, my neighbor.”

I cross my arms and smirk.

“You were with your neighbor at seven in the morning and decided to call me?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s not weird or anything. Do you two talk about me often?”

“No?”

“Convincing,” I say with a laugh.

“Technically, we talk about me, which as I say it sounds selfish, but she reminds me of my grandmother, so it’s nice. She even has the same butterscotch candies too.”

“Oh, it’s an old lady? You hang out with an old lady on the weekends?”

“Hey, don’t talk about her that way,” he teases. “But yeah, I do. Doesn’t everyone have an older woman to talk to on the weekends?”

“No. They don’t.”

“Oh, yeah, then who do you talk to?”

“June and my brother and my parents. Why don’t you just talk to your friends?”

He shrugs. “I like having an outsider’s opinion.”

He doesn’t look at me when he answers, and the dip in his tone was enough for me to know that there is more to it, but now isn’t the time to ask. Besides, given our circumstances, I could guess why he doesn’t talk to them much.

I know we needed to talk. The list of topics is endless, but right now, I think we both just need to be in this moment right here.

“Think we can do this in less than an hour?” I ask.

“Easy.”

***

“We should do this again,” Mark says, walking me to my car a little more than an hour later.

“Ha, you make it sound like we were just on a date, and you liked it.”

He bumps my shoulder with his. “I did have fun.”

I sense a but coming on.

“Sure, but—” Mark starts.

“But if you would have listened to me about the lamp, we would have solved it before the timer went off.”

“Yes, because you knew turning the lights off and carrying the lamp around the room to read black light writing was how we’d solve it. It’s so specific that, of course, I didn’t believe you.”

“It made perfect sense to me!”

“Then you should have ignored me and just done it.”

“I will next time. I just can’t believe you didn’t trust me.”

“You’re going to have to let this one go.”

He taps his chin and winks at me.

“I will, on one condition.”

“Oh boy, let’s hear it.”

“You let me take you to dinner tomorrow.”

I pause in the parking lot to study him. He probably wants to go to dinner to talk about moving in with him again. He tried to broach the subject again tonight, but I shut it down. We were having so much fun, and I can’t remember the last time I was just happy.

Yet I am curious as to why he wants to live together so badly. I know the obvious reason but living together isn’t the only option we have to make this work.

Either way, I’m busy tomorrow.

“I can’t. I have dinner with my family on Sunday nights.”

“Every Sunday?” he says with more shock than I was expecting.

“Yes.”

“Like with your brother and everything?”

I laugh.

“And everything.”

“Huh. I can’t remember the last time my family was all in one room together for dinner.”

He’d told me about how his parents divorced when he was young and how hard it was to have a family event without someone fighting. I’ve been lucky with the family I have.

It makes me sad that he doesn’t know what our kind of family is like, but not sad enough to stand out here in the snow to talk about it.

“I’ll see you around, Mark.”

“Whoa, wait.” He jogs up to my car door to stop me from closing it.

“What about after dinner?”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Well, I mean, you’re sort of stuck with me.” He lets out a light laugh, but I just stare at him. “Sorry. Bad joke. I’m really trying, but I think I’m trying too hard, and it’s not helping.”

The defeated look in his eyes does me in.

“You really want to stick around for this?”

“Yes, Sydney. I do.”

“Fine. Then pick me up tomorrow at five.”

“For a date?”

“For dinner with my family.”

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