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“Yeah?” Ali asks, grinning. “With a certain woman you met recently?”
“Maybe. What’s with the third degree?”
“Are you guys still taking it slow?” she asks, completely ignoring my question and I roll my eyes.
“Not exactly.”
“Ha!” Chance yells. “Pay up, suckers.”
Storm, Kodiak and Fuzz all pass money over to Chance and I shake my head. “Are y’all seriously betting on my love life?”
Ali nods. “Yes, and I had faith that you wouldn’t push that poor girl.”
“Hold up, I didn’t push her. She decided that she was ready for more.”
Storm snaps at Chance. “Give me my money back.”
“Hell, no,” Chance snaps, stuffing the wad of cash in his pocket. “The bet was that they weren’t taking things slow anymore.”
“No,” Kodiak growls. “The bet was that he would be just as pushy as you bastards and convince her to move faster.”
“Don’t sit here and act like you’re not exactly the same way, Lincoln,” Tate scoffs and he grins down at her.
“We’re not talking about me right now.”
“Maybe you should just give me the money and no one wins,” I suggest and they all laugh as Chance stands up and starts handing everyone their cash back.
“So,” Ali prompts. “If you’re not taking things slow, does that mean you’ll bring her to the shower?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask her but she might not be able to find a sitter.”
Ali’s eyes go wide and I can practically see the maternal instincts pouring out of her. “Aw, she has a kid?”
“Yeah, a little girl.”
She presses her hand to her heart. “How old is she?”
“Like thirteen months, I think,” I answer, shrugging my shoulder. I’m pretty sure that’s how old Quinn said Brooklyn is.
“Fuck, dude. You’re in so deep if you know how old her baby is in months.” Chance laughs and Ali shoots him a look before sighing.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute. She’ll be able to play with Magnolia.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Storm growls, shaking his head. “Fucking veto.”
“What?” Ali asks, rubbing her belly. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“We are not naming our daughter Magnolia.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and glares back at Storm, who shakes his head.
“No way in hell, Kitten. Think of another name.”
“You look different,” Tate adds, standing up from the couch and standing in front of me. I shake my head.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do actually,” Carly says.
