I don’t mention to Stas that I’m pretty sure Bobby and Mattie live exclusively off oven pizzas, so they’re going to keep showing up for food long after JJ and I have graduated.
I push through all the bodies and mess in my living room and make my way over to the kitchen. Stassie is chomping on some bean sprouts, watching the wok very intensely. “Hey, bub.” She smiles. “Food is nearly ready.”
I tilt her head back, capturing her lips with mine, enjoying the way her body immediately sinks into me. “You know you don’t have to feed everyone, right? I don’t expect you to.”
She giggles and gets back to the wok. “You know I love it. It’s like having loads of kids, but instead of being cute and small, they’re, like, super big and drink and curse. It’s nice for you guys to spend time together since some of you won’t be here soon. Thai seems to be everyone’s favorite—they showed up immediately.”
“Anastasia Allen, do you have baby fever?”
Her jaw drops and her cheeks blush pink, eyes blinking repeatedly like she can’t believe I accused her of that. “No! I’m being a good girlfriend and roommate.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s so fucking cute sometimes I don’t know what to do with her. “You’re the best girlfriend and definitely the best roommate. I lov—”
“What was that about the best roommate?” JJ interrupts, pushing me out of the way of the stove. “Get out of our kitchen, Hawkins. There is culinary excellence happening here, and you’re getting in the way with your unseasoned vibes.”
Stas watches me with her eyebrows raised as I back out of the kitchen. She mouths,Unseasoned vibesat me, trying not to laugh as JJ starts giving her instructions for plating up. I watch—from a safe distance—as they transfer everything into serving bowls and put it on the beer pong/dining room table. “Food!” JJ shouts at the top of his lungs, and the rest of the guys immediately start scrambling toward the den.
Sabrina and Robbie are already seated at the table, securing the best spots, and the guys filter in, eyes widening at the selection in front of them. The room is filled with the sound of clanging cutlery and appreciativeuhms,ahs, andoohs. Stassie brings the final plate of egg rolls out, and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she stands, looking around everyone and smiling to herself.
The girl who would only eat salad, didn’t want a relationship, and couldn’t stand hockey players is nowhere to be seen.
She squeezes herself into the seat beside me and fills her plate full of food, groaning happily when she has a mouthful of noodles. She slaps at Bobby’s hand when he tries to steal an egg roll from her plate, scowling at him to the point he flinches. Her face softens as she turns to face me and finds me laughing at the interaction. She shrugs, not sorry in the slightest she’s added to Bobby’s fear of her. “Egg rolls are my favorite.”
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her flushed cheek.
“Even if I had crab hands?”
“Even if you had crab hands, Anastasia.”
EPILOGUE
TWO (AND A BIT) YEARS LATER
The Seattle skylineis glowing beneath the warm, early evening sunlight. Dr. Andrews is running behind, but I don’t mind because it gives me a little longer to admire the view.
I sometimes miss the LA weather when I’m stuck in the rain, but right now, I feel perfectly content.
“Come in, Anastasia.” Dr. Andrews holds open the door for me. “I’m sorry for the delay.”
“Don’t worry,” I reassure him, pushing myself up from my chair. “My ankles are so swollen it’s nice to sit down.”
“Well, you’re definitely glowing if that makes you feel better. Pregnancy suits you.”
“It’s sweat, don’t be fooled.” Taking a seat across from his desk, I run my hand over my bump, hissing when I feel a tiny foot in my rib cage. “We think she’s going to be a soccer player. She likes to kick.”
“I’m sure with a gold medalist for a mother and a Stanley Cup winner for a father, whatever she decides to be, she’ll be the best at it.”
“Right now, she’s the best at making me nearly pee myself.”
After I graduated and moved back to Washington to be closer to Nathan, I decided to start with semi-regular therapy sessions. Therapy doesn’t feel hard anymore, it makes me feel grateful. Recapping my feelings, things I’ve done, things I’m looking forward to, and even the things I’m nervous about. It all reminds me how much I have to feel lucky for.
By the time I’m driving home, BabyHis wriggling around, clearly as excited to see her dad as I am. Well, that’s what I’ll tell Nate, leaving out the fact she started break dancing on my organs when I opened my second bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.
When he bought me my Range Rover, otherwise known as thesorry I accidentally knocked you upmom-wagon, he filled all available compartments with snacks.
A wise choice since his child is hungry constantly.
Yes, I’m blaming my unborn baby on how much crap I eat when I’m sitting in traffic.