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“And whose fault is that?”

He lifts an eyebrow at me, which is rich considering he started this whole thing.

I point toward the bathroom. “Go.”

He gets to his feet, but instead of heading for the shower, he holds out his hand. “Only if you come with me.”

I stare at it. “That sounds like an excellent way to make us even later.”

“Probably.”

“At least pretend you care.”

“I care.” His grin says otherwise. “Come on.”

“I already showered.”

“If I smell like sex, what do you think you smell like?”

Ugh, he makes a good point.

I look toward the bathroom, then at the clock, and finally back at the naked man standing in front of me with his hand still waiting for mine.

At this point, punctuality is fucked anyway.

And somewhere between worrying about whether his dads will like me and coming all over their son’s face, most of my nerves have burned off.

So I put my hand in his.

“Fine. But if you start anything in there, I’m blaming you when we show up during dessert.”

Sumner pulls me to my feet. “You were already blaming me.”

“Because it’s your fault.”

He just grins and leads me toward the bathroom.

CHAPTER 25

SUMNER

A couple of days later, I let myself into Goldie’s house with grocery bags hooked over one arm and find her sitting at the kitchen island with her laptop open in front of her.

She looks up, spots the bags, and immediately narrows her eyes. “Did you buy more groceries?”

“A few things.” I set the bags on the counter and start unloading them.

Goldie closes her laptop halfway. She’s barefoot in black shorts and one of my old college T-shirts, the faded gray cotton stretched over her stomach. Her bump has gotten a little bigger again. The change is subtle, but I see her every day and I still notice.

“The fridge is packed,” she says. “I’m starting to worry about this obsessive need to have every kind of food I’ve ever thought about on hand at all times.”

I chuckle. “I don’t see you complaining when you get a craving and we don’t have to go out for you to satisfy it.” I glance at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Besides, we didn’t have what I need to make dinner tonight.”

“What’re you making?”

“Chicken bowls.”

I put the chicken in the fridge, followed by peppers, Greek yogurt, and a couple packs of the blackberry sparkling water she’s been going through lately.