Page 102 of A Major Puck Up

He taps his foot against mine. “You can do this.”

With a deep breath in, I look up. “I don’t really have any other choice, huh?”

THIRTY-FIVE

GAVIN

My brother came up with a fantastic plan to keep me from obsessing over Millie.

“Uncle Gav, are you as excited about this sleepover as I am? I brought my Spiderman sleeping bag, my toothbrush, seven bags of popcorn for movie night, orange soda, Hector, my blue shirt, and my John Cena shorts so we can wrestle later.”

Uneasy, I stick the key in the lock and turn back to the little guy. “Who’s Hector?”

Please tell me my brother didn’t let this kid get another pet.

He’s constantly collecting animals that are not actually pets: raccoons. Snakes. One time he even came home with a lizard. He brought it on the plane and everything after Beckett took all of Liv’s best friends and their husbands to Florida for an early Christmas present.

“He’s my robot.”

Ah. A robot I can handle. With a relieved sigh, I open the door and usher Finn and his duffel full of prized possessions inside. I breathe easier when I don’t immediately find Millie sitting on the couch, her hair up in a ponytail, teasing me.

God, even when she has her glasses on and she’s dressed in sweats, I’m fucking obsessed. Especially when, in the middle of writing a piece, she pushes those glasses into her curly mess of hair and bites her lip, deep in thought. She’ll be so focused I can do nothing but watch in awe of the melody she creates.

“Uncle Gav,” Finn hollers from the guest bedroom. “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed. Do you have a robot friend too?”

I laugh at the four-foot ball of energy. He’s bouncing on his toes outside what used to be his room, sleeping bag in one hand, blue and orange robot in the other. A few years ago, my brother had to shave his head after an unfortunate incident with a pair of scissors, and for a while, he sported what we all referred to as the Army Finn look, but when Cortney Miller moved into the brownstone, the little guy was obsessed with his man bun. Throw Brooks into the mix, and there was no changing his mind, so he grew his hair out like two of his favorite guys. But Finn’s isn’t straight and smooth like Cortney “Man Bun” Miller’s hair, and it isn’t wavy like Uncle Brooks’s. No, it’s grown into a full-on bush on his head, and right now, as he bounces, it barely moves, making me laugh even harder.

“Remember how I told you Vivi has a new babysitter?”

He nods, head tipped back. “Yup.”

“She sleeps here so she can take care of Vivi all the time, so she’s been using your bed.”

Finn’s face lights up. “So I get to sleep on the top bunk?”

Uh, that’d be a no. The kid never stops moving while he’s awake, and I don’t have a clue what he does while he sleeps. The last thing I want to do is leave him unattended when he’s suspended five feet off the ground.

Chuckling, I take his sleeping bag from him and head to my bedroom. “Nah, tonight we’re having a bros’ sleepover in my room.”

Finn’s responding cool is said in an awe-filled whisper.

Just as I’m shaking his sleeping bag out, the apartment door opens and closes.

“Honey, we’re home,” Millie sings in a teasing tone that has my back going ramrod straight.

Finn bounces and lets out a little gasp of excitement. “Is that the nanny and Vivi?”

I ignore the pinch in my chest that spreads at just the thought of Millie and my daughter together. Game face on, head held high, I walk toward the door. “Yes, Finn. That’d be them.”

The apartment is shockingly silent after what can only be described as a very loud night. After kissing Vivi good night, I brought Finn into bed, and we watched a movie until he fell asleep. Now I’ve been sitting in my room staring at my phone, wondering if the coast is clear for me to go hang out on the couch for a bit. I’ve been reading a few parenting books, and I normally use this time of night when it’s quiet to truly focus. Even if I only get a chapter done, it’s better than nothing.

I slide out of bed and quietly tiptoe through the room, sighing when Finn doesn’t stir. Any modicum of relief is quickly snuffed out when I spot Millie standing in the moonlit living room beside the grand piano.

For a moment, I hold my breath, afraid to make even the smallest sound when all I want to do is watch her unapologetically. The creamy expanse of her shoulder teases me as she presses closer to the piano, her fingers ghosting over the ivories.

“You should use it.” The worlds tumble out of my mouth.

Millie startles and hits the keys, the sound jarringly loud. “Sorry.”

---