Page 80 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“You cleared your morning.”

“I moved two meetings. It's not a problem.”

It absolutely is a problem. I've seen his calendar. It's color-coded and frankly upsetting. But he says it so flat and matter-of-fact that I don't have the language to argue with it.

“Thank you,” I say.

He nods once and gets up to pour himself more coffee, like he didn't just quietly rearrange his day.About an hour later, Liam walks through the front door carrying two grocery bags and what appears to be a printed document.

Printed. On paper. Folded in thirds.

“What is that,” I say.

He sets the bags on the counter, pulls the paper out, and unfolds it. “Pregnancy-safe foods by trimester. I printed two copies. One for the kitchen, one for your room.”

I stare at him.

He's six-four, built like he could dismantle a small vehicle with his bare hands, and he's holding a laminated chart.

“Is that laminated?”

“The copy place on the Strip does it for fifty cents.” He sets it on the counter, like it belongs there. “I also got the vitamins. The OB-recommended brand, not the generic. And ginger chews for the nausea. And these crackers. The kind that are supposed to help in the morning.”

I open my mouth. Close it again.

“You researched this,” I say.

“I read three articles and called my sister.”

“You have a sister.”

“Everyone says it like that.” He pulls a jar of peanut butter out of the second bag. “Her name is Elena. She has twins. She said protein first thing in the morning, before you're even fully awake. Like before you sit up. She said it changed her life.”

I look at the peanut butter. Then back at Liam, at the steady way he's watching me.

“You called your sister about me.”

“About prenatal nutrition,” he says, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Don't make it weird.”

“Liam---”

“She also wants to video call. You don't have to. I just told her about the situation and she got excited.” He holds up one hand. “She knows not to say anything to anyone. She's excellent at secrets. She kept mine for eleven years.”

“What secret did she keep for eleven years?”

“That I failed my driving test the first time.”

I burst out laughing.

He grins, wide and easy, like that was exactly what he was building toward.“You know laughing is actually good for the baby,” he says.

“That is not scientifically---”

“Elena has a PhD in biochemistry. She said laughter increases serotonin, which crosses the placental barrier. She was extremely specific about it.”

“Elena sounds unhinged.”

“Elena has twins and no sleep and she still runs a half marathon every spring. She's earned the right to be a little unhinged.” He reaches back into the bag. “She also said hydration is non-negotiable. So.” He sets a large water bottle on the counter. Already filled. Already has a straw.