Page 102 of Breakaway Daddies

But then…

“Hey!” Bruno cuts in, feigning offense. “No kissing without us! I thought this was agroupdate.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing as she turns toward him. “Oh my god, you’re such a drama queen.”

“Internationaldrama queen, thank you,” Bruno corrects, chin lifted like he’s about to demand a crown.

She reaches over, grabs his shirt collar, and kisses him right on the mouth, fast and unapologetic. He freezes for half a second, then immediately fist pumps the air like a five-year-old who just won a carnival game.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” He grins.

Thomas leans back in his chair with a lazy smirk. “So what, I gotta stage a protest to get mine?”

Jinx just shakes her head and leans over the table, planting one right on him too, her fingers curling lightly around the back of his neck. He leans into it, eyes fluttering closed for just a second, before pulling back with a crooked grin.

“Worth the wait,” he says, licking his bottom lip like he’s trying to make the moment last longer.

She settles back in her seat, the corners of her mouth tugged up in that mischievous, slightly smug smile I’ve missed the hell out of. “There. Everybody happy?”

I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. “Not yet. But we’re getting there.”

Thomas raises his glass. “To overdue first dates.”

Bruno clinks his against it. “And spontaneous make outs.”

I raise mine too, locking eyes with Jinx. “And to figuring it out. One disaster at a time.”

She lifts her weird green drink with a smirk, her pinky out like she’s pretending to be classy. “Cheers, boys.”

Thomas is already half-melted into his chair, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with that soft, silly warmth he gets when he’s more whiskey than blood. He leans forward, planting his elbows on the table like this is the most serious discussion of his life.

“Hey, Jinx,” he says, blinking hard to keep her in focus. “Can I… can I please,pleasehelp name the baby? I’ve got somereallygood ones. Like… like Jupiter. Or Banjo.”

I tense, fork pausing halfway to my mouth.

This was the thing. The fight. The wall she built. The one that told us we were the side story, not the main plot.

I brace for her to shut it down again, for her to pull away and remind us, remindme, that she gets final say. Her body, her life, her baby.

But instead, she laughs.

Not that brittle, dodging laugh she used to give when things got too real. No, this is a real one. Loud. Bright. Unapologetic.

She rolls her eyes at Thomas like he’s a particularly chaotic golden retriever and shrugs.

“Didn’t we already talk about this?” she says with a grin. “We could all pick a name and vote on it… or throw them in a hat and let fate decide. That sound fair?”

Thomas fist pumps again. “Yes. Hat names. Best idea ever.”

Bruno, who’s been sipping something neon and definitely dangerous, immediately adds, “Okay, but I’m vetoing anything that sounds like a pasta.”

Jinx points her fork at him. “No promises.”

I just sit there, the laughter bouncing around me like white noise, and try to swallow past the knot in my throat. It’s not sadness. Not exactly. It’s just…relief.

Overwhelming, tidal-wave relief that makes my ribs feel like they’re expanding too far for my skin.

I lean over, keeping my voice low so it’s just for her.

---