Page 50 of Penalty Shots

"Suck," I tell him.

He does, and my body heats with each pull of the lollipop I'm still holding. He closes his eyes as his tongue laps up the candy.

And for a moment. I want to forget professionalism. Forget what might happen come tomorrow. Right now, I want Keelan and that tongue in a way I shouldn't.

And I almost give in, if not for the sound of the screaming baby that stirs in the next room.

He chuckles, taking one final lick of the lollipop before backing away from my bed.

"I think that's your cue, Titi Rina."

He heads to the door and opens it wider for me to walk through.

"Right," I say, putting the lollipop back into my mouth and pulling the covers off of me.

If there's one way to pour ice over hot coals, it's to share a house with a baby who finds it hard to sleep. I'm almost out the door when he reaches for my wrist.

"If you want me to sign off on the plan, I will. Just know, I'm not happy about it."

The baby cries louder.

"Sign it, "I tell him.

He reaches for the lollipop, snatching it from my mouth and popping it back into his. "Whatever you say, Your Majesty."

I leave him behind as I open the door to Stella's nursery. When she hears the door creak open, she goes from long, desperate cries to whimpering little sobs, and it breaks my heart.

"Stella," I coo. "What's the matter, sweet girl?"

The baby sucks in air between sobs, and I reach for her and tuck her little head under my chin. She still has that overwhelming new baby smell on her head, and I can't help but take a giant whiff of it as I sit down in the nursing chair and rock her.

She shifts uncomfortably like something is bothering her. And instinctively, my hand starts softly patting her back. After a few moments, Stella lets out the world's deepest belch a three-month-old has ever burped, and she immediately calms down, resting her little head on my chest as her breathing grows deeper.

Keelan appears at the door, eyes wide, mouthing "damn!"

I crack a smile over Stella's head, and Keelan looks at her with eyes that scream proud uncle.

He loves his niece. That much is evident. He's been a doting uncle, insisting on making her bottles because Stella loves her bottles at a precise temperature, and if it's even a little bit off, she'll let us know she's unhappy.

And it's true. I've already messed up two bottles and she responded by crying her dissatisfaction.

"Did you take care of your sister when she was this little?" I whisper to him in the dark.

He nods. "She burped just as loud too."

I try not to chuckle too loudly and stir the now-sleeping child. I give her a few more rocks in the chair before I get up and walk her back over to her crib.

I do my best to keep pressure on her chest as I do so she doesn't stir. And I succeed in getting her to stay asleep.

Keelan comes up behind me. His hand rests lightly on my shoulder.

"You're a natural," he whispers into my ear.

I turn my face to look at him—a thousand unsaid things passing between us.

He doesn't know how deeply I long for this. He doesn't know that even being here next to him, a sleeping baby in front of us, is unexpectedly breaking my heart.

But the way he looks at me. The way his eyes dance over mine—like he wants to know—like he wants to understand.

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