Page 75 of Resisting my Roommate

“Not exactly,” he says somewhat sheepishly as he tips his glass back, downing half the beer.

“But…” I shake my head in confusion. Then the realization dawns on me. “She’s going for a more…natural approach.”

“It’s a mistake, isn’t it?” He buries his head in his hands.

Despite my shock, there’s something about this that’s quintessentially Finn — always willing to help those he cares about. And complete strangers, too. After all, he’s a firefighter.

“I didn’t say that. I just…” I sigh, taking a sip of beer as I try to wrap my mind around all of this. “How did this even come about?”

“She’s been talking about it for a while. I knew she was researching IVF, but her insurance only covers certain things. Her out of pocket for one round could potentially be close to twenty thousand.”

Beer sprays from my lips. “Twenty thousand dollars?”

“And that’s just for one round. If it doesn’t work, she’ll have to try again. And then there are all the shots.”

“Shots?”

“Yeah. She’ll have to stab her ass or thigh or something with a fucking needle for two weeks.”

“All for the chance to have a baby?”

“For some people, it’s the only way they can have a baby. But…”

“Yes?”

“Well, she doesn’t have fertility issues, so it’s possible…”

“For her to conceive naturally,” I finish.

“She has a fucking list.”

“A list?”

“Of potential baby daddies.”

“At least you made the first cut,” I chuckle.

As crazy as this scenario is, I’m grateful for the distraction from my own problems for a change.

“That’s the thing…” He tilts back his beer and guzzles the rest of it. “I didn’t.” He slams his glass onto the counter.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t on the list. I’m her best friend and I wasn’t on the goddamn list.”

I slide him a fresh beer, hoping it will help ease the tension. “Maybe she doesn’t want to do anything to ruin your friendship. If she’s going to be a single mom, she’ll need to lean on people for support. She’ll lean onyoufor support.”

“And I told her I’d give her all the help she needs. Changing diapers. Midnight feedings. Whatever. But to learn she’s okay with taking DNA from Mitchell Brighton? Or…or fucking Thomas Hubert? I’m sorry, but I think my DNA is infinitely better. I doubt they’ve got the swimmers to seal the deal.”

“There’s no guarantee yours are any better.”

“My swimmers are just fine. I had them tested.”

This additional piece of information causes me to spit out my beer yet again, leaving me momentarily speechless.

“You’re really serious about this. Aren’t you?” I ask softly.

He runs a hand down his face. “I don’t know. One minute, I’m convinced it’s a horrible idea. The next, it doesn’t seem so bad. We get along great. We practically live with each other as it is.”

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