His bottle was finally warm, and I was just lifting it to his lips when someone knocked at the door. Fuck, the walls in this place were paper thin; it was probably the neighbors complaining.

I figured it was karma, considering they had loud sex all fucking night. I’d actually swapped my room and the living room, because we shared a wall and it had been keeping Huey—and me—up all night.

But when I opened the door, it wasn’t the neighbor. It was a middle-aged woman, with soft, graying-blonde hair and crow’s feet around her eyes. She was a fraction taller than me and had extremely blue eyes.

“Hi? Can I help you?” I shifted Huey slightly back further into the house, just in case this lady was a wackadoodle. She looked nice, and my gut said she was safe, but you could never be totally sure.

“You must be Nova. And this must be Huey.” She looked adoringly at the baby in my arms. “I’m Lorraine Engman, Rigby’s mother.”

My mouth fell open. Now she’d said it, I could see the similarities in their faces, though obviously Rigby was a broader, more masculine version of the woman in my doorway. “Oh, hi.”

Fuck, what the hell did I say to this woman? Hi, nice to meet you. Sorry I dragged your son’s career down the toilet and then broke his heart?

Probably not.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced like this. I just wanted to meet you.”

I shook my head, chasing away the shock. My mother would’ve been appalled by my lack of manners. “I’m sorry—please come inside. I was just feeding Huey.”

The woman gave me a bright smile, so like her son’s. “Thank you.”

Even though it had been worth it for some sleep, the problem with swapping the bedroom and the living room was that the main area now opened onto my bedroom. Lorraine’s eyes traveled over the room quickly before averting her gaze. At least I always kept it tidy.

I directed her into the living room, with the couch and television, light pouring through the big windows that had attracted me to this poky little apartment in the first place. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Lorraine shook her head. “No, sit. It's fine. Finish feeding your son. Brother? Rigby was a bit hazy on how you were choosing to raise him, as a sibling or like your child until he was older.”

Man, that was a good question, but not one I wanted to discuss with a complete stranger, despite the fact she was giving me warm fuzzy feelings—so like her own son.

I sat down, shaking my head softly as Huey drank deeply, unaware of my turmoil. “Did Rigby send you? Because I’m—”