The Goal (Off-Campus #4)(80)

But Sabrina’s forehead is creased with reluctance. “Are you sure they won’t mind that I’m there?”

“Of course not. They really want to get to know you. Wellsy was saying the other day how she’s bummed that you never come around.”

“Wellsy?” she says blankly.

“Hannah. Her last name is Wells, so Garrett dubbed her Wellsy.” And all of a sudden I’m troubled that I’ve been with Sabrina since the winter and she hardly knows anything about my closest friends.

“I don’t know, Tuck…”

“Please?” I flash her my best aw-shucks smile. “It’d mean a lot to me.”

“Oh.” Her expression melts like butter in the sun. “Okay. I’ll come.”

*

Sabrina stays true to her word and shows up at my house around two o’clock the following day. When she arrives, she nearly gets sideswiped by the mattress that Logan and Fitzy are hauling out to the moving truck. It’s chaos in here.

I whisk her out of harm’s way and plant a kiss right on her lips. “Hey darlin’. Thanks for coming.”

A blush rises in her cheeks when she realizes that Hannah and Grace are standing directly behind me and had witnessed the kiss. I, on the other hand, don’t care if they witness us banging against the damn wall. Sabrina looks so fucking beautiful in her flower-print blue sundress, with her dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail. These last couple of months her cheeks have been perpetually rosy, giving credence to that whole pregnancy glow thing.

“Hey,” she says, her tone oddly shy.

I introduce her to the girls. They greet her warmly, and Sabrina quickly warms up to them too. Apparently she already knows Hannah from the diner, and Grace has a cute habit of babbling when she’s nervous, so she’s talking Sabrina’s ear off before the introductions are even over.

“You want something to drink?” I offer, guiding her into the kitchen while Hannah and Grace trail after us.

“No, it’s fine. Just put me to work.”

“We were going to take a break now anyway. Fitzy showed up earlier than planned and he has to leave in an hour, so we’ve already moved all the furniture out of my room. All that’s left is emptying out my closet and drawers.” I nudge her toward a chair. “Sit down. Water okay?”

“Sure.”

As Hannah and Grace join her at the table, I don’t miss the way both their gazes keep darting toward Sabrina’s stomach. She’s clearly pregnant, but not quite watermelon-big yet. Maybe a soccer ball?

Either way, that’s my daughter in there, and every time I think that, pride fills my chest. My daughter. Christ. Life is strange and unpredictable and so freaking awesome.

“How are you feeling?” Hannah is asking Sabrina. “Are you still getting morning sickness?”

“No, that stopped a couple months ago. These days I’m just tired and hungry and need to go to the bathroom every other minute. Oh, and it’s getting harder and harder to see my feet. Which is probably a good thing because I think they’re swollen to twice their size.”

“Aw, that sucks,” Grace says sympathetically. “But at least you get an adorable, chubby-cheeked miracle for all your pain and suffering. That’s a decent tradeoff, right?”

“Ha!” Sabrina grins. “How about I call you at three in the morning when my chubby-cheeked miracle is screaming her lungs out and then you can tell me if it’s a decent tradeoff.”

Hannah snickers. “She’s got you there, Gracie.”

I hand Sabrina a glass of water and then lean against the counter, smiling as the girls continue to joke about all the “wonderful” things Sabrina and I can look forward to—no sleep, diaper changes, colic, teething.

Truthfully, none of that scares me. If you don’t have to work hard for something, then how can it ever truly be rewarding?

Footsteps approach the kitchen. Garrett wanders in, wiping sweat off his brow. When he notices Sabrina, he brightens. “Oh good. You’re here. Hold on—gotta grab something.”

She turns to me as if to say, Is he talking to me?

He’s already gone, though, his footsteps thumping up the stairs.

At the table, Hannah runs a hand through her hair and gives me a pleading look. “Just remember he’s your best friend, okay?”

That doesn’t sound ominous.

When Garrett returns, he’s holding a notepad and a ballpoint pen, which he sets on the table as he sits across from Sabrina. “Tuck,” he says. “Sit. This is important.”

I’m so baffled right now. Hannah’s resigned expression doesn’t help in lessening the confusion.

Once I’m seated next to Sabrina, Garrett flips open the notepad, all business. “Okay. So let’s go over the names.”

Sabrina raises an eyebrow at me.

I shrug, because I legitimately don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.

“I’ve put together a solid list. I really think you’re going to like these.” But when he glances down at the page, his face falls. “Ah crap. We can’t use any of the boy names.”

“Wait.” Sabrina holds up a hand, her brow furrowed. “You’re picking names for our baby?”

He nods, busy flipping the page.