Page 60 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

How’s life in the middle of nowhere?

Luciana:

Peaceful. Which to you is boring AF. But being here feels like I'm closer to Mom. NGL I miss city noise and overpriced coffee. And chaos, sometimes. Not ur kind, tho.

You sure? I bring the good kind of chaos.

Luciana:

You bring the kind that ends in lawsuits and broken furniture with a dash of STDs.

I laugh under my breath.

A second later, she drops a pin with a winking emoji.

I stare at the address, and for a second, the memory hits sharp. Mom’s perfume, the way she used to wipe powdered sugar off my nose, her laugh echoing through that tiny Brooklyn bakery.

My chest tightens.

Guess I’m not just doing this for Sophie. I’m doing it for the part of me that still wants to believe people like her, and Mom, don’t vanish. They’re just waiting for you to show up.

Later that morning, I find Sophie in the kitchen, damp hair pulled into a low bun, hoodie sliding off one shoulder like she doesn’t know what it does to me.

She’s pouring coffee, completely unaware that just the sight of her barefoot and sleepy might be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.

She glances up. “Morning.”

I hesitate in the doorway for a second longer than I should. “Hey.”

The silence stretches, comfortable, almost, but there’s a weight to it. Not just the usual heat between us. Something deeper. Softer. Complicated.

I clear my throat. “About last night…”

She freezes just slightly, mug hovering at her lips. “Alessio.”

Just my name. But the warning in it is clear.

“It’s complicated,” she adds, softer now. “You know that.”

I want to say I know. I want to say I don’t care. I want to ask if it meant anything to her, or if she’s already shoved it in that same box we shoved that night years ago.

Instead, I shrug and force a grin. “Relax. I wasn’t about to propose. Just checking if the no-pants clause in the roommate agreement is retroactive.”

She snorts into her coffee, and some of the tension cracks. Not all of it. But enough.

I set my phone on the counter. “I’m grabbing pastries later.”

She finally looks up from her coffee, brow pinching. “You’re going out? Alone?”

I blink. “It’s a bakery, Soph. Not a Bratva meetup.”

“I know. It’s just…” She shakes her head like she’s scolding herself for caring.

My voice softens. “I’ll keep my head down. No flirting with mobsters or causing international incidents. Nikolai said the Bratva’s backed off. No one’s going to touch me, not right now. Everyone’s in agreement.”

I look at her, let her see the truth in my words.

“You don’t have to worry.”

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