Page 136 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

“God, he’s cute.” I ruffle his downy soft hair.

“I have to admit, I think most babies are ugly, but he’s perfect.”

I throw my head back and guffaw. “Only you would admit to thinking babies are ugly.”

“What?” She blinks innocently, moving to sit with her back against the couch. “Most of them are. Parents are just biologically programmed to think they’re adorable or some shit.”

Sammy teeters, and I dart a hand out to steady him before he falls. He babbles nonsense that I’d like to think is his way of saying thank you.

“Rosie?”

“Mhm?” She hums, her head lolling in my direction.

“Just so you know, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with than you.”

“Not even Miley Cyrus?”

I drop my head back and groan. “How dare you bring up my Miley Cyrus obsession.”

“Remember that summer you insisted we watchHannah Montanaat my house because you didn’t want your brothers to know you loved the show?”

I cover my face with my hands. “Well, you were obsessed with the Jonas Brothers,” I counter.

“What girl my age wasn’t?” She tucks her legs under her, smiling at me.

The warmth in her eyes matches the heat radiating from my chest at the memories.

Sammy slaps his hand against the rug, catching our attention.

Rosie scoops him up, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. As his responding giggles fill the air, I decide it’s one of my favorite sounds.

This right here?

My little family?

It’s all I never knew I needed.

Sammy is strappedto my chest because I’m too fucking paranoid to carry him in my arms where someone might take him from me. It’s ridiculous; these people are his family, but to me they’re strangers.

As if sensing my tension, Rosie stays by my side, her arm looped through mine as we move around the room.

The funeral was an awkward affair that left me feeling ill.

Lots of crying. Lots of hugging—which I wasn’t prepared for. And lots of questions.

There were some scathing looks from Danielle’s husband’s family. I can’t totally blame them, I guess. It was a joint funeral, and I’m proof, along with Sammy, of Danielle’s infidelity. It’s not my fault she cheated on her husband. For all I know, they cooked up the plan together. It would’ve saved thousands of dollars if they were considering the IVF route. Not that I’ll ever know whether that was their goal.

As uncomfortable as the service was, the awkwardness of the luncheon is so much worse.

“I’m Julie, Danielle’s aunt,” a woman with brown hair and a hint of gray at her roots says. “That makes me this little one’s great-aunt—I think that’s right.” She moves in close and tries to pet Sammy’s head, but with my height, she ends up getting nowhere close.

It doesn’t help that I’m trying to sidestep her in an awkward mockery of a dance.

“Cool. I’m Daire. Sammy’s father.” I’ve said this at least five million times today. “And this is my wife, Rosie.”

Rosie waves with her free hand. “Hello.”

“Hi, dear.” The aunt, Julie, doesn’t even make eye contact with her, which instantly grates on me. “Can I hold him?”

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