“I do … in the future.” I sigh and lower my gaze to Isabella. “For a while, I questioned myself. As a little girl, I dreamed about being a mother, but after everything fell apart with my parents, I told myself I’d been fed a lie. Marriage, love, kids, family—it all seemed like something that wouldn’t work, you know?”

His eyes don’t leave mine. “What made you change your mind?”

“I realized my parents shouldn’t be my only influence on my outlook on love. I witnessed my brothers and sister find love. Kyle with a woman who hated him. Maliki and Sierra, who did nothing but fight for years. And Rex with his best friend. There’s hope out there for me.” I stare at him, unblinking. “Like I told everyone, I think our baby will have a combination of our personalities. Hopefully, he or she will have my sense of humor.”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

I hold out my hand and fake inspect it. “I can’t wait to see the ring you propose with.”

“One from a candy machine, of course.”

I bump his shoulder with mine. “Where are we getting dinner after this?”

“Wherever you want.”

I perk up. “And then can I be your midnight snack?”

“I’ve created a monster out of you, haven’t I?”

“Sure have.”

I’m falling in love with this man, and the fear he isn’t falling as hard feels like a brick to my chest every time I think about it.

I officially have a roommate.

The townhouse is larger and nicer than the apartment I moved out of, and the rent is the same price since I’m only paying half with Grace. My brothers and Maliki helped me move all day today. Lincoln had offered, but I didn’t want him to call off work at the bar.

Grace struts into the living room with a sparkly gift bag in her hand. “To my new roommate.” Her strawberry-blond curls are in braids down each side of her head, and her pajamas are floral print.

I smile, grabbing it from her while sitting on the couch, and she plops down on the other side. “Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You saved me from moving back in with my parents.” She gestures to the bag. “I owe you, like, fifty of those.”

I laugh, tugging at the tissue paper. “You couldn’t swing rent by yourself?”

They say it’s rude to ask about finances, but I’m genuinely curious. Grace teaches in an upscale private school, her father is a judge, and she never seems pressed for money. The few hundred I’m paying in rent doesn’t seem like it’d be enough to push her out of the townhome.

“It’s not about the money.” Grace rests her hands in her lap, all proper and ladylike. “I don’t like to live alone.”