“I have no doubt you have researched, prepared for, and pro-and-con-listed every infinitesimal detail of solo parenting.”
Most people might take his words as an insult, but Finn knew her, knew how important something like this was to her. She took it as the compliment he intended it to be.
“You are going to be a terrific mom.”
Erratic nerves settled as warmth filled her. “Yeah?”
He smiled, the left side of his mouth lifting higher than the right. “The absolute best.”
“Thanks, Finn.” She let out a deep breath. “Wanna help me pick out a donor?”
…
Finn was going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than beer if he was going to help his best friend pick out a sperm donor. Now there was a situation he’d never in his life thought he’d have to deal with.
“You’re only twenty-eight.”
Pru stared at him as if he were the one who’d just spouted the most ridiculous thing ever.
“I’m aware of how old I am.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go ahead with your plan, but aren’t women having babies in their forties now? You could wait, see if you meet a nice guy.”
Something strange and dark churned in his gut at the thought of Pru meeting some guy and settling down to have a bunch of babies. She’d dated sporadically. He’d met some of the losers unworthy of his best friend. It wasn’t that he begrudged her a nice guy. So why did the thought of another man in Pru’s life always rub him the wrong way?
Her dark brown eyes turned sad. “Well, that’s the thing. Remember when I thought Terrence and I were getting serious?”
Yeah, he remembered the prick who left because he got some fancy high-paying job out on the West Coast, breaking her heart. Good thing the asshole ran halfway across the country before Finn could break his nose in return.
“The douchebag? I remember.”
Her lips curled up as she let out a small chuckle at his insult. “So, when I thought things were moving toward marriage and babies, I…I asked my doctor for a fertility test, and it turns out…”
She tugged on her ponytail, adjusting the already perfect hairstyle.
“I’m not going to bore you with all the medical jargon, but it appears I may not have as much time as the average woman. The longer I wait, the harder it will be, and since I haven’t found any man who is up to my standards—”
“That’s because your standards are impossible.”
He loved Pru, but it was true. The woman held men to an almost unachievable ideal. Which was fine. In his opinion, no one was good enough for her, anyway. But damn, it really sucked that she had to move up her timeline. He knew how important having a family was to Pru and how much it crushed her when Terrence the Terrible left and destroyed the goal she’d been working toward. And now she had to move on to plan B all because of whatever biological issue stood in her way.
Good thing Pru always had a plan B…and C.
“Just because I won’t sleep with anyone with boobs and a pulse doesn’t mean I have impossible standards.”
“Hey, I don’t sleep with every woman I date.” The rumors of his male prowess were highly exaggerated. “I’m just saying there are a lot of fish in the sea.”
“Yeah, well, as I told Mo earlier, there’s also a lot of garbage.”
Fair point.
They were interrupted by Laura, who arrived at the table with two plates piled high with steaming hot french fries and burgers with all the fixings. Because he needed it for this conversation, Finn ordered another beer while Pru ordered another cider.
“So, tell me more about this process.”
It might be weird, but he cared about her a lot. They weren’t the kind of friends who said “I love you” to each other, but he did feel for her deeply the way one did for their best friend or a distant cousin you sometimes had wildly inappropriate dreams about.
This was a big deal. A huge, life-shifting decision, and he wanted her to feel comfortable sharing it with him. Even if it made him uncomfortable as hell. Talking babies and sperm donation with anyone was strange. Doing it with his best friend—his female best friend—well, that passed strange and flew straight into a bizarre world.
He sat there, eating his burger and fries, not tasting the food as his brain whirled and he listened to Pru talk about hormone levels, percentages and failure rates, ovulation tracking… Things he never in a million years thought he’d be discussing with her.
“You seem prepared.” Overly so, but that was his Practical Pru. Never leaving anything to chance.
“Yup.”
“And excited.”
Pink lips curved upward, her entire being glowing. The weird tension he’d been holding in his muscles ever since she blurted out her news released at the sight of her delight.
This decision made her happy. That was all that mattered.
“I am.” Lifting her cider, she took a drink, then frowned slightly as she placed the bottle back on the table. “Though, I will miss my cider. And sushi.”
“And sex.”
She snorted. “Can’t miss what I’m not having. Besides, pregnant women can have sex. I’m pretty sure there’s an entire section of the internet devoted to that particular fetish.”
Talking babies was one thing, but he could not handle discussing porn with Pru.
“I think this news calls for a celebration.” He bobbed his brow. “Shots?”
Pru arched one eyebrow. “We’re not in college anymore, Finn. I don’t want to be puking my guts out tomorrow.”
“I won’t let you puke.” He caught Laura’s eye from across the room and tilted his head, and the server gave him a nod and started heading their way. “But we need to celebrate your last hurrah before you saddle yourself with a kid for eighteen years.”
“Hey!” She reached across the table to give him a very ineffectual punch to his shoulder. “Kids are not a saddle; they’re a joy. Besides, I handle your childish ass all the time.”
A chuckle escaped him. Man, he loved to rile her. “That you do. So, shots?”
Pru rolled her eyes, a smile tilting the corner of her mouth. “Okay, fine. One last celebration, but you’re paying.”
“Of course.” He grinned as Laura arrived at their table. “Two chocolate cake shots.”
“You got it.” The server turned and headed toward the bar.
Pru raised a brow. “Chocolate cake shots?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Celebration calls for cake.”
She snorted. “Cake is made from flour, eggs, and sugar. We’re going to be ingesting vodka, Frangelico, and lemon.”
True, but it weirdly tasted just like chocolate cake, and wasn’t that what really counted when celebrating?
“To Pru.” Finn lifted his glass once Laura dropped them off. “Who is going to be the best mom ever!”
Her eyes misted over as she raised her own glass. “Thanks, Finn.”
They clinked, biting into their sugared lemons before downing their drinks.
“Oh my.” Pru gave a slight cough, wiping some sugar off her chin with the back of her hand. His gaze snagged on a few sparkling sugar crystals left on the corner of her mouth, and he had the strangest urge to lick them off.
What the hell?
All this baby and sperm talk was messing with his mind. Or maybe it was the shot. It had been a while since he’d indulged in anything more than a few beers.
“I haven’t had one of those in a while. I forgot how yummy they are. And messy.” Her eyes brightened. “Do we dare another?”
Loving the happy expression on his friend’s face, he motioned to Laura for two more. “We dare.”
Pru laughed. “Okay, I’m in. But I walked tonight, so if I get too sauced, can I crash at your place?”
His place was right across the street, and she’d bunked on his couch dozens of times when they’d both had a bit too much. Looked like tonight was going to be one of those nights. Knowing it might be the l
ast “one of those nights,” he tried not to let the small twinge of sadness interfere with the evening. Tonight was all about Pru, celebrating her news, supporting her decision.
“Of course, Pru. You know you’re always welcome.”
Laura dropped off their second shot, and Pru picked up her glass.
“Then here’s to Finn, the best friend a girl could ask for.”
He grabbed his own drink, clinking it with hers. “I am pretty awesome.”
Dark brown eyes rolled upward, but her lips curved in a grin. “Whatever, egomaniac, just drink.”
“To us.” He raised his glass higher. “The most awesome best friends ever!”
“Damn right.” She grinned, raising her glass to his. “To us!”
Chapter Four
One hour later, they stood outside the door to Finn’s apartment, Pru clinging to Finn’s back because the two-minute walk to his place had been too much for her. She blamed the three-inch wedges she was wearing. He’d blamed the third shot they’d taken.
Maybe he was right, but Finn had been the one to suggest shots in the first place, so he got to carry her tipsy butt back to his place. And if she took the opportunity to enjoy the warm, hard muscles of her bestie holding her up like her own personal superhero…well, she’d just blame that on the shots, too.
The sound of tiny nails and excited yips came through the closed door.
“Calm down, you crazy mutt.” Finn released the grip he had on her legs and she slid to the ground as he reached into his pocket for his keys. “She must smell you, because she’s never this anxious to see me.”
Pru doubted it. She knew Bruiser loved Finn, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pounce on the opportunity to tease her friend.
“Naturally, because she knows I love her more.”
Bright blue eyes narrowed. “Keep it up, Carlson, and I’ll sneak into your apartment tonight and let Bruiser do her business in your shoes.”
He would not. Mostly because Lilly would freak out if an animal of any kind stepped paw in their place. Their building was strictly pet free and there were hefty fines if anyone was caught hiding an animal.
She stuck her tongue out, pushing her way past him as he opened the door, only to be immediately assaulted by five pounds of fuzz trying furiously to jump into her arms.
“You want something to drink?” Finn closed the door behind her as Pru scooped Bruiser into her arms and headed for the couch. “I think I still have some of the pear cider you left from our last movie night.”
“Just water is good.” Her vision was fine, so she wasn’t completely toasted, but her brain was kind of mushy. They’d downed three shots at the bar in addition to the cider she’d had with dinner. Not puke worthy for her by any means, but she was feeling a bit giggly, and that meant she was pleasantly tipsy and well on her way to drunk. More alcohol would be a bad idea.
He shuffled about in the tiny kitchen. Actually, “kitchen” was a generous term. More like a small fridge, sink, and stove shoved against one wall. Finn lived in a five-hundred-square-foot studio. His bed was on one side of the apartment, kitchenette on the other, and the only room, a small bathroom with sink, toilet and standing shower filled out the rest of the tiny apartment. He said since he was one person and he spent a third of his time at the station anyway, he didn’t need a ton of room.
The lack of space became much clearer when more than one adult occupied the home, but since Bruiser couldn’t come visit her per her building’s rules, she didn’t mind the cramped quarters to see the sweet pup. And Finn, of course. Plus, here they could watch all the trash reality TV they wanted. Lilly hated reality TV, so Pru rarely watched it at home.
“I think I have the latest Single Woman Looking on my queue if you wanna watch it?”
Speaking of trashy TV. “Load it up, Jamison.”
Finn grabbed the remote, turning on the giant flat screen that took up a significant amount of wall space in his tiny home. He was such a guy. But she got to reap the benefits of his massive HDTV, so win, win.
“Who did she send home last week?”
Finn handed her a glass of water, taking a seat beside her on the small couch.
“Jayce. I think.”
“Oh no! I loved Jayce. She should vote off Easton. That dude is an ass.”
“Yeah, but he’s good for ratings. I think the producers want to keep him on until the very end.”
“Then how the hell is it her choice if the producers tell her who to pick to stay and go?”
He tilted his head her way, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “It’s not real, Pru. Most of this shit is scripted or heavily edited. Everyone knows the relationships don’t survive past the last cut.”
She knew. It wasn’t like she was some romantic hopeful like Mo or believed if two people matched perfectly on paper, they would last forever, like Lilly. She knew true love existed, but she was afraid it just didn’t exist for her. Maybe that’s why she liked these cheesy dating shows so much. She’d like to hold out some sliver of belief that some people could find lasting happiness with another person.
“Ah yes, I forgot for a moment I was watching with First Date Finn. Man who fears any commitment longer than the expiration date on his milk.”
Since the couch was so small, their thighs were pressed together. Pru could feel, quite clearly, the tensing of Finn’s muscles at her snipe. A small tendril of guilt wormed its way into her consciousness. They’d always teased each other, playfully of course, but that comment had been a little out of line. She knew the reason Finn never got serious with anyone had a lot to do with the dangers of his job.
“I’m sorry, Finn. That wasn’t fair. Must be the booze talking.”
His muscles relaxed a bit, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Oh, are we playing the blame it on the booze game now? Because if so, then can I say Easton is awesome and I’m glad he beat out Jayce?”
She gasped in mock horror. “You take that back.”
He lifted his hands, chuckling. “Hey, it was the booze talking.”
“You’re gonna regret picking Team Easton.”
Bruiser barked, a high-pitched yip, as Pru slid the dog off her lap and onto the floor before launching herself at Finn. She tackled him, slipping the ice she’d surreptitiously grabbed from her water glass down the back of his shirt. He shouted out a very creative four-letter word, jumping up and ripping his shirt off.
“Oh, you are going to pay for that, Prudence.”
She laughed, reaching again for her water cup, but he was quicker. Finn dove, easily grabbing her and flipping her onto her back. Pressing her into the couch as he loomed above her, holding her hands high above her head.
“I think it’s payback time.” He reached for her glass of water.
“Finn, no! Don’t you dare!” He raised the glass, condensation from the icy cold water running down in tiny rivulets on the outside. “Your couch! If you pour that water on me, it’ll soak your couch.”
One tattooed shoulder shrugged. “Couches dry.”
She struggled as the laughter escaped her, but his hold was firm. “I’m serious. I don’t want to get wet. I don’t have anything to change into.”
“We can always just hang out naked.”
At his statement, her laughter died. All the playfulness was sucked out of the room as that one word hung in the air between them. A big damn elephant in a tiny room.
In that moment, she took stock of everything. Finn, shirtless, hovering above her with a firm yet gentle hold on her wrists, pressing her into the soft cushions of his couch. To a casual observer, this might look like lovers’ foreplay. But they weren’t lovers. They were friends.
She didn’t want Finn.
So why was there heat pooling low in her belly?
Why did her breasts feel heavy and achy?
And why was there a trembling between her thighs?
Oh God. Did she want Finn? True, her best friend was attractive, but she’d never wanted to jump him. Not
consciously anyway. So why now? Maybe it was the fertility drugs. Her doctor had mentioned they could affect her libido. Were the drugs making her see Finn in a new, sexually available light or was it the booze? There had to be some logical explanation for this sudden burning need, low in her gut, screaming for her to cross that forbidden line in their friendship.
“Shit, I’m sorry Pru.” Finn shook his head, breaking the spell. “Forget I said that. Must be the booze talking.”
He released her hands, lifting off her and heading toward the kitchen with her water, which he downed in one gulp.
“Bullshit.”
It wasn’t the alcohol. Yes, they were both a little drunk, but they weren’t wasted or anything. The alcohol may have loosened his tongue, but it didn’t plant the idea there in the first place.
“Look…” Finn tossed up his hands. “We’re best friends and all, but I’m still a guy and you’re beautiful, so yeah, I’ve thought about…you know, you and me naked a time or two, but I would never—”
“Wait, what?” Shock slammed into her, stealing her breath as his confession bounced around in her brain.
“Huh?”
She took a few steps forward. A few steps in Finn’s place meant she was practically toe-to-toe with him now.
“You think I’m beautiful?”
His gaze rolled to the ceiling as if she’d asked the dumbest question in existence.
“You have mirrors, Pru.”
Sure, but she’d never call herself beautiful. Cute, sure. In a girl-next-door kind of way. But she wasn’t a sleek and sophisticated beauty like Lilly. Or a sensual bombshell like Mo. She was a solid seven. Eight if she got Lilly to do her makeup.
“I’m pretty, but I’m not—”
“You are more than pretty. You’re a smoking hottie who would have all the guys on Single Woman Looking bending over backward just to get a special date night episode with.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, palms going sweaty. Finn never said stuff like this to her. He never acted like he wanted anything more than what they had. And she’d never entertained the idea of her and Finn as anything other than friends. So why was her body suddenly throbbing with the need to know him in a way she’d never imagined? Why was there an ache between her thighs she knew only he could sate? Was it the booze? The pretty words?
The Best Friend Problem Page 4
