Page 99 of Gold Rush
“A what?”
“It’s basically a cat playground. It has four levels Finch can scale, a scratching post, and a hiding spot at the top. I was trying to bond with her before I started assembling it.” I reach for the open can of seltzer on the coffee table, swallowing a sip before saying, “Were the Yankees losing or something? You usually stay out later.”
“No, they’re winning.” He laces his fingers behind his head. “Just called it an early night.”
“Was Kit there?”
Flynn nods.
“Did he make any announcements?”
I suspected Collins was pregnant again after Lili’s bachelorette party, but Kit confirmed the news over the weekend, sending our entire extended family a photo of Dylan wearing a Big Brother shirt. I figured Kit would tell his friends tonight. I wasn’t sure what the boundary line was when you were fake dating the best friend of one of your family members—if I could or should have told Flynn when I found out.
“About the second kid? Yeah, he told the guys.” He sounds distracted, here but not physically present.
I’ve never seen him so detached or distant. Flynn is normally the definition of live in the moment.
Told the guys registers.
“You already knew?”
He nods again.
“For how long?”
“About a month?” Flynn thinks. “Actually, more like two.”
“So, basically, you found out when he did.”
“I guess.” He smiles, his strange mood seeming to fracture a little. “Kit can be kind of an oversharer. And I think this pregnancy being planned is freaking him out more, not less. He was so shocked last time that he couldn’t panic as much.”
“That makes sense.”
“You want kids, right?”
Shock sparks and spreads in response to the unexpected question. “Uh, I think so. Not now. But one day … yeah.”
“After the wedding?”
“That’s normally the order of things.”
One corner of his mouth lifts, creasing his cheek. “Not if you ask Kit and Collins. But you’re more traditional.”
He doesn’t say it as a question, but I treat it as one.
“I am.”
“You had a good example of it.”
“Having good parents isn’t a requirement to be a good parent, Flynn. You’ve met my grandfather. You seriously think Arthur was showing up to Crew’s tennis tournaments or my dad’s debate competitions? But my dad did those things for Wren and me.”
Flynn grins suddenly. “God, I forgot you did debate team at Dalton. You were such a nerd.”
“Shut up.” I shove his bicep, then quickly pull my hand back.
His smile fades slowly as he stares at the coffee table. “My dad had a good dad. And my uncle … he and Perry are real close. I think it’s me. That I mess everything up.”
“You don’t.”
