I swallow hard, forcing a smile. “No, buddy. I really can’t.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, pattingmyarm like I’m the one who needs reassurance. “I’ll call you if I miss you.”
“You’d better,” I tease softly. “But you’re gonna have too much fun to miss me.”
He giggles. “Maybe just a little. But only at bedtime.”
“Deal.”
I knock on the apartment door, and Tristan’s mom, Lydia, opens it, giving Laddie a wide smile when she sees his whole face beam up.
“Are you excited?” she asks him.
He nods, making little hops.
She tells him to take his stuff in and put it by the kitchen island. He turns back to me, grinning ear to ear.
“Bye, Mama!” he says before stepping inside.
“They’re all so excited,” Lydia says.
“Oh, I know,” I say, forcing a laugh. “It’s just...”
“I know,” she says. “The first time is always hard. I’ll take good care of him.”
I meet her gaze and nod. “Of course you will. I’m not worried.”
“Moms are always worried.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “You’re brave. How many are you having?”
“Six,” she says, laughing. “But this isn’t my first rodeo. We’ve done this with the older two before.”
“And we pick him up around nine tomorrow?”
“Or ten,” she says with an easy shrug. “No rush.”
“Got it.” I thank her again, and when Laddie turns to wave with a big grin on his face, I manage a smile and wave back before forcing myself to walk away.
When I get home, I’m surprised to see Talia on the couch in sweats, scrolling through her phone.
It’s Friday—sheneverhas Friday nights off.
“What are you doing at home?” I ask, dropping my keys in the bowl by the door.
She smirks. “I called off. Figured I’d talk you into going out tonight—keep you from pacing the floor and checking your phone every five minutes while Laddie’s living his best life at that sleepover.”
“Out?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Out where?”
“Out...dancing? Eating? Drinking? Getting dressed up in something other than scrubs and having men look at us?”
“Oh, I don’t know if?—”
“Stop it. Don’t say whatever lame thing is about to come out of your mouth.”
“It’s just that?—”
“Emma,” she says. “Stop. He’ll be fine. You’ll have your phone, and they’ll call if they need you. Let’s go get drunk and let hot guys feel us up. Wouldn’t that be exciting? A little tit-grope? A little tongue down your throat?”
