Page 48 of Roommates
“You're right!” Lucas grinned as if hehadn'tbeen in excruciating pain just minutes earlier. He didn't even seem to be mad at me anymore. Instead he looked at me with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Good thing you came up with unisex names, huh? Now that he's not a girl.”
“I have the perfect name for him,” I announced.
“Yeah? Keep in mind I retain the right to veto your proposition.”
“You've read too many law texts,” I said with a chuckle. “We should name him Falcon.” If that wasn't a kickass name, I didn't know what was.
“Falcon?” Lucas said the name as if he needed to hear how it sounded.
“Yes, because he's going to soar high and swoop down to attack before anyone will ever know to expect him. Just like you.”
For a second or two, Lucas only looked at me. Then he smiled. “That is kickass.”
“I promised, didn’t I?”
“You did!” Lucas smiled at me for a moment longer before looking down at his son—at our son—
again. Holy shit, we were parents now. To a baby. Someone let me have an actual baby, and name him too! “Something wrong?” Lucas asked.
“No, nothing’s wrong.” This was so totally not what I’d expected from my future.
But that was just part of what made it so perfect.
E P I L O G U E
LUCAS
ABOUT A YEAR after our son had been born, I caught Adam in the kitchen, whisking batter in a bowl, his shirt decorated with specks of flour. Sitting in my arms, Falcon stretched a tiny hand out toward his daddy, as if wanting the bowl and the mysterious stuff that was inside of it.
“What are you doing?” I asked my mate.
He turned around and his eyes widened as they fell on our son. “Dude! You seriously put him in that outfit? I thought we’d agreed to burn it!”
“Don’t be like that!” I grinned, studying our little boy. Only a week ago, Adam’s parents had sent us a penguin costume in an effort to make up with us. Adam had accepted the apology, but insisted that we throw the costume away at our earliest opportunity.
That would have been a waste, though. Falcon looked so cute all dressed up like this—and my alpha looked absolutely ridiculous shaking his head at me in indignation. “I had to do this, you know,” I said with a little laugh. “Since you refused to show me your baby pictures.”
“You’re impossible,” Adam muttered.
“WELL, are you going to hand over the pics?”
“Never.”
“In that case, the costume is staying. Falcon looks great like this. I want a framed picture on my bedside table.”
“You do realize his name isFalcon,notPenguin, right?”
“Of course I know his name. I was there when—” I stopped, staring at my mate. “Please tell me your penguin-phobia is not the reason you picked our son’s name.”
“Falcons arewaycooler birds than penguins,” Adam said, swinging the spoon he’d been whisking the batter with and getting drops all over the floor. “Besides, I don’t have a penguin-phobia. I think they’re overrated, that’s all.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said as the baby in my arms reached for Adam again, or rather, for the spoon he was holding.
“THAT'S NOT FOR YOU, son,” Adam said.
“It's not?” I asked. “It's nearly his birthday.”
“I know it is. I have somethingelseplanned for that.”
