He texts me on Christmas.

Cooper: I know your list is finished, but can I be your NYE date?

I don’t know what to say at first. Like, pick up the goddamned phone, Cooper. Then I was grateful he hadn’t called.

I know my voice would crack the moment I heard his voice.

I’d tell him everything.

That I wanted him every day for the past year. That I want him now, more than ever.

That most of all, I want him to want me.

Me: Of course. I’ll be here.

He shows up, and my stomach is in knots. And that’s not just because I have 24/7 morning sickness.

It’s also because I’m torn up, not knowing what comes next.

“Gracie,” he says, handsome as always in a suit, overdressed for what I’ve decided is going to be a night in my apartment.

I’m rocking sweats and a sweatshirt that says YES WAY, ROSE.

“It feels like forever.” I pull open the door, letting him inside.

“Too long.”

In my living room, Cooper looks so big, as he walks around, accessing my space. A space that will be home to a baby in about seven months.

Our baby.

“Still the most adult twenty-something I know,” he says, eyeing my box of hanging folders.

“More than you know,” I murmur, walking to the kitchen and grabbing him a beer.

“What are you drinking,” he asks, loosening his tie after taking the beer from my hand.

“Seltzer tonight.”

He eyes me skeptically.

“Cooper, we really need to talk.”

“I take it you don’t want to go out?”

“No. I mean, we really need to have a heart-to-heart.”

Cooper nods and his eyes are on me like he’s never seen me before. I wonder what he will say when I tell him I made him a father. What will he say when he finds out he is connected to me forever.

I’d feel bad, but I don’t. I want this baby. I am a Women’s Studies major who discovered that her sexual awakening can lead to bigger things than she ever dreamed of finding.

A heart within a heart, a life within a life.

Our baby, in my womb.

A life that needs me.

“Gracie,” Cooper says, setting down his beer, facing me. “I need to tell you something to. Let me go first.”

I frown. “Did you get a job offer?” I’ve been scouring the news and hadn’t heard anything.

“The Yankees will keep me if I want to stay.”

“Do you want to stay?”

“I want you.”

I’m taken back. “What? What are you talking about, Cooper?”

“I want you. I read your book. And there is a lot that is slightly skewed–”

“That’s why I wanted you to read it. To fix any errors.”

“Is that the only reason you wanted me to read it?”

I shake my head, my eyes filling with tears. “No. I wanted you to understand me, Cooper, understand where I was coming from.”

“Thank you.”

I pull back, confused. “Thank you for what?”

“For being so honest. I haven’t been as honest with you.” I watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes written with concern. “I haven’t been with anyone else all year. And in the book, I get the impression you thought I had been.”

“No one else... not in like Tampa or anywhere?”

“Nowhere. When I committed to the Kinky List, Gracie, I committed to you.”

“Cooper,” I start, my voice so soft.

“And another thing I wasn’t honest about was my experience.”

“Experience?”

“I may have had a hundred women to my apartment, but in every single instance they were one night stands.”

“I don’t need to know details, Coop,” I tell him, flustered.

“I know you don’t, but when we conceived the Kinky List, I gave you the impression that I knew a lot more than I actually did. When I handcuffed you to my bed, that was the only time I’d ever handcuffed anyone. In the bedroom or otherwise.”

“Threesomes or public sex?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “And no foursomes or strip shows or videos. You were so many of my firsts.”

“Cooper, I have–”

“Wait, I need you to hear this, Gracie,” he says, pulling me closer to him.

“What?”

“I love you. I have for an entire year. Why the hell do you think I wanted to do this list in the first place?”

“Cooper––”

“I love you and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I got your book and it was amazing but there was just too much that was left out. I want my name in it. I want to be a part of your story. Now and forever.”

Cooper kneels, eyes up at me, and out of his pocket, he pulls a black velvet box.

“Marry me. Make me the happiest man to ever play for the Yankees.”

The ring is a gorgeous ten-carat, princess-cut solitaire. It glitters and glows. It’s magical.

I cover my mouth, shocked and in awe and all my nervous flutterings float away.

Cooper Bentley loves me.

“I have to say something first,” I tell him, my eyes full of tears now; this flood is not going to stop.

“What is it?” Cooper looks up at me, ring in his hand, offering it to me.

“I’m pregnant, Cooper, we’re having a baby.”

He shakes his head, absorbing this, and I take the ultrasound photo from the folder hanging in the box. Handing it to him as I explain.

The due date, when I heard the heartbeat. How the night in Vegas, when we fought... was also the night we made something beautiful.

“Gracie, we’re having a baby?”

“Yes, and if it changes what you just said --if you want to walk away -- if this was all a big misunderstanding…”

“Stop it,” he tells me, pulling me to him, pressing the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. “Stop it, Gracie. You said I was in charge? Well, you and me, we’re having a baby and getting married.”

I laugh, wiping my eyes. I have a ring on my finger.

“Okay,” I say, laughing.

“Is that a yes?” he clarifies.

“It’s a yes.”

He kisses me, on the lips, then drops to his knees, lifts my sweatshirt, and kisses my belly. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.

I wipe the tears from my eyes, wondering when this life became my own.

“Cooper, I love you.”

“Then we need to do number eight.”

I shake my head, laughing, unable to believe my luck. “There was no number eight on the Kinky List, Cooper.”

“True, but there is one thing we haven’t done yet.”

“What’s that?”

He lifts me, carries me to the bedroom, and places me on the bed.

“Gracie, we’ve never made love.”