Even as confused and hurt as I am, my ovaries go up in smoke.

I discover I’m walking toward the dynamic duo. I hazard a quick glance back at Amanda and she raises an eyebrow at me and smirks.

I can’t even care.

God, he looks good. Now that I know how that mouth feels on my body and my hands feel wrapped around his—

Apparently, you can’t put that genie back in the bottle.

Which I guess means I’ll have to ask it for more wishes.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.”

“You have, um, some secrets.”

He nods. His eyes scrape my face. I think he’s trying to suss out how mad I am. “I didn’t mean to not tell you. It’s just really fucking complicated. Oh. God. Sorry dude,” he says to Justin, and I can’t help it, I laugh.

“You maybe want to tell me the story later?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I actually really fucking do. Damn it. Fuck. Sorry, Justin.”

“You, um, might want to work on that,” I say, smiling.

He smiles, too. “You could help me.”

I nod. “I mean, if we hang out long enough, either you’re going to become a Puritan or I’m going to start swearing up a blue streak.”

“So true.”

Neither of us says that two weeks probably isn’t long enough for that conversion to take place.

We stand there awkwardly for a moment, until Justin leans forward in his dad’s arms, gives me a gummy, one-toothed smile and reaches out a hand.

“Hey, little man,” I say to him.

“This is Justin,” Brody says, and pride shines all over his face.

“He’s adorable. Will he come to me? Is that okay?” I hold out my arms, and Brody transfers Justin into my arms.

I sneak another peek back at Amanda, but she has disappeared. It’s just Brody, Justin, and me out here.

Justin is grabbing for everything his chubby little hands can reach—my hair, my earrings, my nose—and talking up a blue streak in nonsense syllables.

“Do you have him for the weekend?” I make goofy open-mouthed faces at Justin, and he chortles. Baby chortles! They’re the best.

“Just tonight. You look beautiful.”

I look up from Justin’s beaming face and into Brody’s. He’s not scowling, but he’s Brody-serious. Intense. Pre-kiss intense. The bottom falls out of my stomach in the best possible way. He takes a step toward me.

“Justin!”

Connor comes around the side of the house. Justin turns in my arms towards the sound of Connor’s voice. So do Brody and I, both of us taking steps backward.

My stomach feels like there’s a rock in it. Brody’s face has gone studiously blank.

Connor, however, isn’t looking at either of us. He’s beaming at Justin. “Justin, want to play peekaboo?”