It’s taking a lot of my willpower not to go sit on his lap. I don’t think he would push me off, judging by the way he looks at me, but that doesn’t mean I should test it. God I would love to feel his thighs underneath me, to feel if he is hard at the weight of me on top of him. I wonder if I sat at the right angle would he be able to feel how wet I am at the thought of him. Shit, I’m doing it again. I have to stop fantasising about us—

“Do you want it to be a boy or a girl?” Liam’s voice is a welcome reprieve from my runaway thoughts. I knew he wanted to talk more about what are lives are going to be like after this pregnancy, but I thought we would be talking about a schedule of when he will see the baby.

I casually shake my head and toss my hair behind me, as though I haven’t just been thinking about him naked. “I think it would be easier with a boy, but I would love Jack to have a little sister.”

“Why do you think raising a boy is easier?” he asks, cocking his head to look at me where I lie on the couch.

“Raising them won’t be easier. But I have a bunch of Jack’s old clothes they could wear, so that saves money. And I have a list of boy names I didn’t use before.” Another reason we should find out the gender sooner rather than later, I think to myself.

“Ellis, we can afford new baby clothes.” He laughs.

I wave my hand dismissively. “That’s not the point, reusing is good for the environment and stuff; but anyway, there are some clothes there that would be good for a girl too.”

He lets a silence linger before focusing on me intently. “What names have you thought about then?”

“Well, that depends.” I grimace slightly, familiar anxiety settling in my chest.

“On what?” he quizzes.

“Their surname.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I pick at my nails, the stillness in the room enveloping me. I move to sit on the cushion closest to him, not wanting to make this conversation any more distant and awkward than it needs to be. This is Liam and I here. We shouldn’t be uncomfortable.

“Is it selfish if I want them to be baby Ruinsky?” He takes my hand, squeezing it as he speaks.

“No, not selfish just… I guess it’s the done thing,” I say softly. “We could hyphenate, but Ainsley-Ruinsky is a bit of a mouthful.”

I knew deep down he would want the baby to have his name. It was one of the first thoughts I had when I told him I was pregnant, but hearing it stings a little.