“Okay, we’ll see you upstairs,” the boy replies, and Dayton closes the door and meets my gaze as he walks back toward me.

“We’re going upstairs for dinner.”

“Um….”

“We can bring PJ. He met both my brothers’ dogs before, and they get along.”

“He met your brothers’ dogs before?”

“Yeah, the day you came over to take a nap, he met them.”

“Oh.”

“It’ll be cool. You’ll like everyone.” He takes a seat on the couch next to me and reaches out, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Maybe I should tell him to stop touching me like I mean something more to him because the easy affection is messing with my head. Of course I don’t do that because I’ll miss it if he stops, and I don’t want him to stop. “So what do you say?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“All right, so that gives you about two minutes to get over the freakout.”

I can’t help but snort. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.” He smiles.

“Should I go change?” I glance down at the jean shorts, tank top, and sweater I put on this morning when he came to invite me out to breakfast.

“No, it’ll be casual. The kids will be hyped up on sugar, the girls will probably drag you off to interrogate you, and the guys and I will hang at the bar.”

“There’s a bar?”

“You’ll see.” He gets off the couch and holds out his hand. “Ready?”

“I guess I don’t really have a choice not to be.” I place my hand in his and let him pull me up. Once I’m on my feet, I tip my head back. “Do they know I’m pregnant?”

“Clay does, so Willow probably does. I doubt she’s shared that information with Emma or Miranda, though. It’s up to you if you want to share that with them.”

“Do you want them to know?”

“I’m not keeping it a secret. There just hasn’t been a time for me to sit down with Miles or Tucker to talk about things.”

“Right.” Because this all just happened, and we are living in fast-forward.

“When I was reading up on some stuff, it said that most people wait until twelve weeks to share the news because prior to that, there is a higher chance of miscarriage,” he says.

Twelve weeks, so we are right there.

Wait.

“You read up on it?” I ask.

He gives a little shrug like it’s not a big deal. “Yeah.”

“What else did you read?”

“That the baby is about the size of a prune right now.”

“Really?”

He tilts his head to the side, his face surprised. “You didn’t know that?”

“No.” I instantly feel guilty for not doing research and looking things up about what is happening to me and my body.

Shouldn’t I be doing that?