Page 147 of The Trouble with Flings

While they’re lining up, Keira says, “Daddy-to-be, let’s go,” and drags Fitz over to the chair with the blue balloons. “Sit.”

He complies, grinning proudly.

I love seeing him so happy. I’m glad I didn’t rob him of this chance to be celebrated by the people he loves most.

“Come on, Mama-to-be,” Bellamy says, and leads me to the chair across the lawn as the women start strategizing and the guys talk over one another like they’re preparing for war and all want to be generals.

As I sit down, I look across the yard at Fitz, and my heart swells. Even with the teams arguing about who’s going to win, his eyes are locked on me. He winks and blows me a kiss, and my happy, hormonal heart gobbles it up.

“You guys act like you’re playing for life or death,” Randi shouts.

“We are,” Brant hollers back. “Losing to girls would haunt us forever.”

“That ain’t happening,” Jace says.

“That’s a bold statement for someone whose team includes Jamison,” Tessa says.

“Hey,” Jamison says, offended. “I’m extremely athletic.”

“You once threw out your back sneezing,” Randi reminds him.

He scoffs. “It was a power sneeze.”

Laughter rolls through them.

“These strollers are like four inches tall,” Archer complains.

“You should be used to four inches,” Sutton shoots back, and high-fives the other girls.

“Listen up! Rule time!” Keira announces. “You must push the stroller across the lawn, circle Jennifer, and push the stroller back and around Fitz, then hand it off to the next person.”

“Your baby must arrive safely in the stroller,” Bellamy adds.

“That’s not likely,” Jamison says.

Bellamy glowers at him. “Pretend you can be a normal human being and just have fun, okay?”

He snickers and takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

“This is already more supervision than Wells had growing up,” Grant says.

“Trauma builds character,” Alexander calls out, inciting more laughter.

“All right, you lunatics, let’s get this show on the road,” Keira shouts. “One. Two.” She blows a whistle, and pandemonium erupts.

Victory, Wells, Archer, and Indi explode across the lawn at the same time, the toy strollers rattling violently while everyone screams over one another like the outcome determines custody rights.

Wells veers toward Victory. She yells, “Move!” nearly clipping his ankle.

“I just want to be near you!” Wells shouts back, swerving his stroller directly into her path.

“That’s sabotage!” Jules screeches from the sidelines.

“It’s strategy!” Wells argues.

Archer barrels past him like he’s charging into battle, one giant hand gripping the stroller handle while the tiny plastic wheels bounce dangerously over the lawn.

“You’re going to kill your baby!” Indi hollers.