### Chapter 35 As April approaches, graduation looms just around the corner, yet I can’t seem to muster much excitement for it. If I’m being completely frank, I feel a tad indifferent about the whole shebang. But hey, I’ll don that cap and gown, toss my diploma into the sky, and grin—if only to see the pride light up my parents’ faces. Me? I’m basking in a different kind of joy, the kind that comes from knowing I’m in love with the most amazing girl in the world, who happens to be just as head over heels for me. Despite our hockey team missing the playoffs, the ice still has a way of surprising us. My buddy Logan just scored a sweet deal with the Providence Bruins, the minor league affiliate of the Boston Bruins. Within the next year or two, there’s a genuine chance he could make the jump to the big leagues. And Garrett? His agent is working his magic too, drawing interest from multiple teams. I’m holding my breath, hoping Garrett lands somewhere fantastic. But that’s not all—my own future is falling into place. Just last week, I nailed an interview for a teaching position at Parklane Academy, and yesterday morning, the headmaster called to deliver the thrilling news: I got the job! It’s a two-year contract, with the second year contingent on my program to upgrade my degree. And it seems like my sister’s universe theory might hold some weight, because within an hour of my call with Parklane? Allie’s agent rang her with news so sensational that she shrieked like a banshee. Garrett, caught in the shower, came barging into my room, scandalously nude and wielding a hockey stick, looking for answers. After a few moments of comedic reassurance, Allie revealed the extraordinary: she had been offered a role on a new cable show helmed by the illustrious director, Brett Cavanaugh. She had worked with him on a play last summer, and now, instead of auditioning, he had presented her with an outright offer. The cherry on top? The show would be filmed in New York City. Allie still harbors aspirations of performing in theater during the show’s breaks or—should disaster strike—if the project flops. Though I can’t imagine that happening; she’s been cast in a meaty role, as she puts it—something serious and substantial, and I know she’s ecstatic about it. “What if they make me show my boobs?” Her voice snaps me back to the moment as we stroll hand-in-hand away from the drama building, her recent monologue class just ending. The chill of spring still lingers in the air, but verdant life is starting to emerge, the remnants of winter slush melting away. “Did Ira say that?” I ask, genuinely curious. “No, but this is HBO. They could totally ask me for some nudity. At least a topless scene.” “Would you be okay with that?” I ask, treading carefully. She shrugs nonchalantly. “As long as it’s not over-the-top, sure, I’d think about it.” Her serious expression is laced with a hint of mischief. “Would you be okay with it?” I give her a roguish grin. “Babe, your tits are fan-fucking-tastic. I wouldn’t dream of depriving the world of them.” “Be serious. Would you mind?” I pause, weighing my thoughts before shaking my head. “I’m cool with it. It’s part of your craft, and if you’re comfortable, then I am too.” She leans in, planting a sweet kiss on my cheek. “You’re awesome. You know that?” “Of course I do. I hear it at least ten times a day.” Our light banter halts abruptly as a familiar figure walks toward us. My shoulders tense when I see Allie’s ex, Sean, approaching with hesitance. He fixes his eyes on our intertwined hands, and I don’t need to see Allie’s face to sense her discomfort. The way her fingers tighten around mine tells me she wishes this encounter were over already—just like she hasn’t forgotten the cruel remarks he flung her way after Thanksgiving. “Hey, Allie,” Sean murmurs, his expression somber. I can’t muster any sympathy for him. “Don’t,” I interject, my tone leaving little room for argument. “Forget her number.” Allie squeezes my hand reassuringly. “We’ve already said what we needed to say,” she says softly yet firmly, addressing her ex. Sean clears his throat, visibly struggling. “I owe you an apology.” “All right, you just did that and I accept it. But we’re not friends, nor will we be.” She tries to stride past him, while I’m still itching to confront that jerk. But Allie pulls me forward, her grip solid around my hand. “He’s not important,” she whispers. And she’s absolutely right. We’re barely five paces away when another familiar face floats into view. This one belongs to a stunning blonde who waves cheerfully as she passes. “Looking good, Di Laurentis!” I hold my tongue; flirting isn’t something I want to risk, not when Allie’s watching. Besides, she’s the only one I care to flirt with, and I’m quite fond of my limb attachment. “Nice to see you,” I reply, continuing our walk. “I guess today is the day of exes?” Allie interjects dryly. I roll my eyes. “Michelle’s not an ex.” “Right! Just someone you almost had a threesome with.” “Almost,” I remind her grumpily. “You’re the one who cockblocked me, remember?” “Yep,” she says, clearly reveling in the memory. “Ha. Don’t pretend that you ruined my one chance for a threesome. I’m sure that wasn’t your first rodeo.” With a shrug, I answer, “I’ve had a few. What about you?” “Loads,” she replies nonchalantly. I shoot her a mock glare. “Names and dates,” I demand. “I need to activate the Kill Bill list.” Allie bursts into laughter, which eases my annoyance. “Relax. You were there for all of them.” A frown crosses my face, confusion bubbling inside me. “You, me, and Winston,” she says cheerfully. I groan, feeling frustration settling in. “That doesn’t count!” “Sure it does. DP was involved!” “Oh hell yeah, it was!” An hour later, we’re back at my place, and it’s Allie’s turn to pick a movie, giving me a chance to hop into the shower. After taking an annoyingly long time, I eventually wander into the living room to find her wrapped in an afghan, absorbed in her phone. Her mouth drops when she spots me. “Oh my God, Dean. Why are you naked?” “I don’t like shirts.” “What about pants? Got something against those too?” I saunter across the room and plop down on the couch, casually draping the blanket over my lower half. Allie watches me, a mix of curiosity and amusement lighting her face. “What?” I deflect defensively. “I’ve never met anyone so anti-clothes. It’s weird.” I grasp her hand, leading it under the blanket, placing it right on my half-hard dick. “Weird or awesome?” She rubs her thumb idly around the head of my cock, letting out a soft sigh. “Awesome,” she concedes. “So what’d you choose?” I nod towards the TV, still trying to savor those delectable, lazy strokes. “Oh, you’ll love this one! It won an Oscar.” A groan escapes my lips. “No, baby doll. No. I refuse to sit through another one of your ‘Oscar winners.’” With a casual click of the remote, my eyes widen in surprise. “The Exorcist?” I shout, barely believing my luck. “The fucking Exorcist?” The hand job fades into the back of my mind as my excitement wells up—Little Dean is suffering due to my blissful, non-sexual happiness. “See what a great girlfriend I am? Compromises are all the rage,” she beams. “Damn right they are.” I plant a kiss on her cheek, but an unsettling thought lodges itself in my mind. “What?” Allie asks, her brow furrowing. “Babe…are we boring?” Allie bursts into a fit of laughter. “Did you really just ask that?” “Yes, I fucking asked that!” I wave my arms about the room. “It’s Friday night, and we’re on the couch talking about how great our relationship is. That’s basically the definition of boring! Is this our life now? Are we forever destined to stay in and cuddle every night? Has the excitement left?” “The excitement isn’t over,” she assures me firmly. “Are you sure? Because it kinda feels like—” “Hey!” Tucker’s voice pierces the moment, and we glance up to see him strolling in. “Hey.” My brow furrows in confusion. “I thought you were hanging out with Hollis tonight?” “Plans changed.” He steps inside, his gaze lingering on us beneath the blanket. “G and Logan around?” I shake my head. “At their dorms.” “Shit.” His hand drops to his side, and an uneasy expression flickers across his face as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, clearly at a loss. “Everything okay?” Allie asks lightly, but I can see Tucker is anything but fine. He hesitates, visibly struggling for the right words. “I... Fuck, I was hoping the others were here so I could tell everyone at once.” “Tell us what?” My own uneasiness grows with each passing second. “I...uh…” He stops, opening and closing his mouth, like a fish out of water. Finally, he takes a shaky breath, one that sounds as if it’s been pulled from somewhere deep within. “I’m having a baby.” Silence descends like a heavy blanket around us. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Allie’s jaw dropping in shock, matching my own disbelief. In a daze, I find myself staring at Tucker's abdomen as if I might find the answer to this crazy proclamation sculpted into his skin. “You’re having a baby?” My thoughts whirl chaotically, making coherent speech a challenge. “With…who?” Tucker locks eyes with mine, his expression confirming my worst fears. “Sabrina James.” Allie erupts into laughter beside me, and I pivot to face her, bewildered. But her chuckles just keep rolling out, wheezing and rising until she finally manages to catch her breath and shoots me a knowing look. “The excitement is really over, huh?” Well, damn it all to hell.