Page 68 of Draft Pick

"You got beat up by your sister?" Lincoln teased.

"Frequently," Zay deadpanned without shame. "And I'm pretty sure if you squared off with Brielle, you'd leave without a kneecap. She fights dirty — and she freaking bites."

I chuckled at Zay and Lincoln going back and forth over the potential outcome of a Brielle and Lincoln brawl and realized even though, as a rule, I ignored any relationship advice shared by Zayden, tonight, he was right.

Starlie and the baby were my family now. My parents would have to figure out how to deal with the news — and accept it with grace — or else, I'd take my family elsewhere and away from their influence.

It hurt that I didn't have the luxury of bringing Starlie home, introducing her to my parents, and sharing our exciting news like an ordinary family would.

I could hear the fight in my head, which threatened to sour my happiness.

But first, I had to fix things with Starlie — again.

For fuck's sake, when was I going to learn how to do this right with her?

Realizing I'd gone silent, Zay and Lincoln paused their bickering to check in. "So, what are you going to do about your family — and by family, I mean your baby mama and Cason Jr.?" Zay asked.

I laughed, sharing, "It's Princess Peapod from now on."

Zay grimaced. "That's borderline child abuse." He fished a dollar out of his pocket, tossing it on the table. "For your kid's future therapy bill."

"Keep it, Zay, you need it more," I retorted with a snort, but I knew they were right and needed to make things right with Starlie before I did anything else. "I will apologize to Starlie and then explain why I panicked. Then, I'll face my family. Whatever their reaction, I'll deal with it."

Zayden clapped me on the back. "Heyyy-o, there's my guy. Take charge of the situation and make it your bitch. Girls like a guy who can lead. Especially in the bedroom," Zay said, waggling his eyebrows. "I could give you some pointers if you want."

"Thanks, I think I'm good in that department," I returned wryly.

"Zay, why are you the way you are?" Lincoln asked, exasperated. "This is a serious conversation and you can't help but bring it back around to your dick."

"Who said I was talking about my dick" Zay protested, taking offense. "I'm just saying?—"

"Give it a rest," Lincoln grumbled.

Those two clashed frequently, but the tension was like a Caribbean storm, loud and sudden but ended just as fast.

I took a deep breath, drawing them back to the original topic. "I'll tell them the truth. If they can't accept Starlie and my daughter, then... I guess that's their loss."

"Damn right it is," Lincoln said, then added, "so, when are we going to meet Starlie?"

I wasn't worried about Lincoln; Zay was the wildcard, but maybe I was so busy trying to protect Starlie when I wasn't even sure she needed my protection. She was a tough girl. Maybe I had nothing to worry about. There was one way to find out.

"Let me do some groveling first. Then, we'll see about bringing her around."

Zay grabbed a few pretzels, tossing them in his mouth. "Better do it before Junior gets here; otherwise, it'll be real awkward when we show up at the hospital with flowers and shit."

"You ready to be Uncle Zay?" I asked, grinning.

"Hell yeah, I think I could rock that job. Obviously, I'd be the cool uncle. Linc would be the 'fun police' uncle because he's usually a giant buzzkill."

"Someone's gotta be responsible one," Lincoln said, shrugging. "Lord knows it ain't gonna be you."

I raised my beer. "Here's to becoming the best versions of ourselves while we're still young enough to handle changing."

"Hard to improve perfection but, sure," Zay said with a grin, clinking glasses.

I laughed, grateful for my boys and their support, even if it came as a verbal ass-kicking and some good-natured ribbing. Sometimes I needed that.

Hell, didn't we all?

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