“No,” we say in unison. Not because we’re against hyphens, but because we’re both stubborn jerks.
I didn’t realize I felt so strongly about my daughter having my last name, but I do. Hell, if it was up to me, Sabrina would have my last name too. But that would require us getting married, which would require me to propose, and I’m pretty sure she’d flee to another continent if I did that. We might be sleeping together again, but I can tell she’s still fighting the idea that we’re in an actual relationship.
For some reason, the silly girl thinks she has to do everything alone.
“Okay.” Hannah grins. “How about we table the first name discussion until you’ve solved the surname quandary?”
That sounds like a good idea. The last thing I want to do is argue with Sabrina in front of all my friends. “Let’s go upstairs and do some packing,” I tell Sabrina.
Nodding, she allows me to help her out of her chair.
From his perch at the counter, Garrett’s expression turns glum. “I can’t believe you’re moving out.”
I roll my eyes. “You guys are moving out too.”
“Yeah, but not for two more weeks.”
I notice that Logan looks equally bummed at the prospect of my leaving today. They wanted to throw me a goodbye party, but I said no, because technically this isn’t goodbye. I’m just moving to Boston, which is where they’ll both be in a few months anyway.
Dean’s heading to New York, though. He’s bailing on law school and got a job teaching at a prep school. Allie landed a role on a TV show that’s filming in Manhattan, so I guess they’ll be moving in together.
Truthfully, I’m equal parts sad and relieved that Dean will be living in another state. He hasn’t exactly been supportive about my impending fatherhood, but he’s still one of my best friends, damn it.
“You guys decide yet who gets the master bedroom?”
Garrett is speaking to Fitzy now, who shrugs his tattooed shoulders. “Me. Obviously.”
“I don’t know,” Logan warns. “Hollis and the freshman are gonna try to fight you for it.”
Fitzy raises an eyebrow and then flexes his big biceps. “Let ’em.”
I stifle a laugh. Yeah, Hollis and Hunter don’t stand a chance against Colin Fitzgerald. Though, considering what a private person he is, I’m still surprised that he agreed to take over our lease with them. I figured he’d look for another place on his own, but I guess Hollis twisted his arm into it.
Sabrina and I head upstairs, where I sweep my gaze over my empty room. The bed’s gone and there’s nowhere to sit. I notice Sabrina rubbing her lower back, so I make a mental note not to let her stay on her feet for too long.
“Okay,” she says in a decisive voice as she opens the closet door. “Should we fold everything up nicely? Or just toss it in the boxes willy-nilly?”
“What boxes?” I swipe a cardboard container of garbage bags off the hardwood. “The clothes go in here.”
“Oh my God. You are such a guy.”
“Am I?” Smirking, I drift my hand down my abs and then cup my junk over my jeans. “Do you want to inspect the goods to make sure?”
“Did you ask me here to pack or to fuck?”
“Both?”
She waves a hand around the room. “There’s no bed.”
“Who needs a bed?”
“My poor fat pregnant body does,” Sabrina answers with a self-deprecating smile.
“How about this?” I counter. “Let’s pack as fast as we can, and then I’ll follow you back to Boston and we can fuck up a storm on your big comfy bed.”
She stands up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my lips. “Deal.”
*
Sabrina
I was nervous about spending time with Tucker’s friends, but really I had nothing to worry about, because they’re pretty awesome. Hannah and Grace are so easy to talk to. Garrett and Logan are hysterical, and a lot more laidback than I expected. I mean, they’re drop-dead gorgeous hockey players. Shouldn’t they all be super conceited like— “We need to talk.”
Like this guy.
I stiffen when Dean Di Laurentis appears in the doorway. Tucker just went outside to say goodbye to Fitzy, leaving me to empty out the last dresser drawer on my own, but I stop what I’m doing when Dean enters and closes the door behind him.
The mere sight of him irritates me. It’s not fair that someone so jerky is so ridiculously attractive. Objectively, Dean is probably the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen outside of a movie screen. He’s got blond hair, chiseled male-model features, a spectacular body. And he’s charming as hell—that’s how he got me into bed in the first place. Well, that and the three daiquiris I drank. I might have even seen him again, if I hadn’t learned that he was sleeping with our TA in exchange for good grades.