When I showed up at Lauren’s apartment to pick her up for our date, I found her pacing a trail through her living room rug. I'd told her a hundred times she had nothing to be nervous about, but hanging out with Eoin and Aoife was giving her some serious anxiety.

“I'm telling you, it'll be fine,” I said as we sat in the back seat of a taxi on our way to the museum.

When I'd re-ruptured my Achilles and then spent the weekend in Lauren’s bed screwing her brains out, I'd rescheduled with Eoin for this week instead. Lauren didn't care what most people thought when they realized we were together, but she didn't want the guys not to think of her like some dirty old lady. And yeah, I'd gotten some shit from a few of them about my cougar, but I'd assured her Eoin and Aoife would be the least judgmental people she'd ever meet. I mean, you couldn't be when you'd been knocked up at 21.

“Is it silly that I want them to like me?”

“They will.”

As if I hadn't answered she continued, “I mean, I don't need them to love me or anything since I won't be around long, but since Eoin knows your story, I kind of want him to think I'm worthy of you.”

I laughed and squeezed her fingers. “Trust me. That won't be a problem.”

I'd lived with Eoin long enough that he knew all my worst flaws. It wasn't a question of Lauren being worthy of me, but vice versa. But she'd find that out soon enough.

Right now I wanted to talk about that other thing she'd brought up. I hadn't said anything about it, but I was getting frustrated at how often she mentioned her departure. We both knew it was inevitable, but lately, I felt like she was throwing it out there more frequently—as if to remind each of us that what we had wasn't permanent and we shouldn't get attached.

The problem with that was I already was.

Fergus thought it was because Lauren had some magical pussy that I couldn't get enough of but that wasn't it. Okay, it was true I couldn't get enough of her delicious cunt, but there was way more to Chef Andrews than just her magic pussy. Shock of all shocks, I enjoyed her brain, including hearing her take on politics and economics. I'd learned more about world affairs from talking to her these past couple of weeks than I'd ever learned in school. No doubt I loved Lauren’s cooking, but I could totally see how she would have made an excellent diplomat or something if her dad hadn't died and she'd stayed at Harvard.

“Have you given any more thought to what I asked the other night?”

For the past week, I'd been trying to persuade her to stay in Dublin longer than she'd initially planned. Lauren’s contract with Dublin Rugby was for eight weeks, but her visa allowed her to remain in the country for a full 90 days. Since I wasn't playing anymore, we could use those extra days to see Ireland together. And secretly I hoped some more time together would help get her out of my system … because if things continued the way they were, I was going to be one sad puppy when she left. We'd talked offhandedly a couple of times about me flying out to LA to visit her--which I totally planned on doing--but I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn't going to be satisfied with that if I couldn't get her out of my system before then.

The taxi pulled to a stop outside the museum, and she turned to me. “Let's talk about that tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” I answered passing the driver a €20 and waiting for my change.

* * *

Inside, we met up with Eoin, who told us Aoife was in the toilet. Apparently, that was something that occurred a lot now. I'd be lying if I said pregnancy didn’t freak me out a bit. With the crazy shit that was happening to Aoife—the way her body wasn’t her own anymore—I was more than halfway convinced she was hosting an alien life form in her belly … not another human being.

“Hey, I’m Eoin.”

Shyly, Lauren reached out her hand.

“For fuck’s sake. You already met,” I exclaimed, interrupting the exchange.

“Not really,” Eoin replied. “When Lauren was introduced, you zeroed in on her before anyone could get a word in.”

With an abashed chuckle, I recalled how the second I'd seen her walk into the room carrying that heavy plate of food, I'd wanted to claim her. The response had been unlike anything I’d ever experienced. One glance at Lauren and the word mine roared through my head like a freight train on a collision course with destiny. I’d been so naive to think one taste of her would ever be enough. Shit, we'd only left her apartment 30 minutes ago, and already I wanted to drag her back there and strip her naked. I needed to leave my mark on her so that when she left in a couple of weeks, she never forgot about me … because I sure as fuck was never going to forget her.

This wasn’t how I’d seen things playing out that day. I’d wanted to mess around with her, get my mouth on her body, but I hadn’t anticipated things going any further than that. I didn’t take most things seriously, but I was serious as a heart attack about getting my fill of Lauren Andrews. Somehow, she’d managed to do something no other woman had: get under my skin and stay there. I was consumed by her, and it scared the fuck out of me. I was close to begging her not to go back to the U.S., but I knew there was only one way to make sure that she stayed. And I didn’t think either of us was ready for that yet.

Breaking that thought, Eoin snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hey man, you in there?”

I blinked. “Sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”

Lauren rested a hand against my shoulder. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, scrubbing a hand down my face before giving her a reassuring smile.

The pain in my Achilles had ratcheted up the past couple of days, and I was having trouble sleeping. The pills the doctor had prescribed made me sick to my stomach, so I’d stopped taking them. But neither the pain or my sleepless nights were why I’d zoned out just now. That said, I was happy to let Lauren think they were because I didn’t want her to suspect the real reason my mind had just floated a million miles away. “Just tired is all.”

Just then, Aoife strolled up, her beach ball belly leading the way. She’d gotten so much bigger since I’d last seen her. It was still hard to believe she was going to be a mom. But more importantly, Eoin—my 22-year-old best friend—was going to be a dad.

If he can be a dad, why can’t you—?

I put a lid on that idea before I could finish the rest of that sentence.

“I’m Aoife. You must be Lauren. Nice to meet you.”

After another round of introductions, the four of us made our way inside the museum.

“So, what did you want to see first?” Eoin turned to me with the museum map in his hands.

I shrugged. The truth was, I didn’t have the first clue about anything here. I just knew the place was open late and that smart people like Lauren typically liked museums. Turning to my girl, I asked, “What do you think?”

Studying the map in her hand for a quick moment, she glanced back up. “The bog people?” she asked, looking between the rest of us.

Aoife scrunched up her nose. “You go on ahead. They freak me out.”

Eoin laughed and rolled his eyes as he led the way toward the part of the museum that housed the famous bog people. “Not this again.”

“I don’t care what you say; they should have decomposed like everyone else.”

“You know why they didn’t though, right?”

Back and forth they went as we walked, sounding as if they’d had this discussion countless times before. Which they probably had. Eoin and Aoife had known each other their whole lives. While I’d been growing up in America, they’d been visiting places like this on school field trips.

“They’re cute,” Lauren whispered. “How long have they been together?”

I smirked. “They grew up in the same town and have been friends forever, but they’ve been together less than a year.”

Lauren’s eyes grew wide, and I chuckled. “Yeah, she got knocked up literally the first time they had sex.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yup, pretty much.”

Her eyes wandered to my friends. Eoin was dragging Aoife toward the clear glass case while she exclaimed promises of retribution.

She continued staring at them, a speculative look on her face.

“What?” I asked.

Lauren shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she said, moving toward the display.

As she went, I studied her the same way she’d been studying Eoin and Aoife, wondering what she’d been thinking. It sucked that they’d gotten pregnant so young, but it was doubly hard because Aoife looked a few years younger than she was. Because of it, they dealt with a lot of judgmental assholes who looked at her and saw just another pregnant teenager. I didn’t think Lauren was like that, but knowing her stance on kids, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she wasn’t judging them too.

Stepping near, I wrapped my arm around her waist and bent down to whisper in her ear. “They’re good people and they love each other.”

Her eyes darted up to meet mine. “What?”

I notched my chin toward Aoife and Eoin, who were looking at a nearby display of ancient Irish artifacts. “You had a look on your face just now.”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that.”

“What’s it like then?” I asked, studying her face.

We hadn’t known each other long, but I’d quickly learned to read her expressions, so I knew when Lauren was holding back on me. She would have made a terrible poker player.

She glanced toward Eoin and Aoife again and then back to me. The right side of her mouth hitched up in a small grin. “It doesn’t seem like an unplanned pregnancy has put a strain on their relationship. You look at them and you can immediately tell they’re in love.”

That wasn’t entirely true though. The pregnancy had nearly torn my friends apart, but it wasn’t my place to share that information with Lauren. What had happened back then was being Aoife and Eoin. So instead I said, “Yeah, they’re sickening in love.”

“It just …” her voice trailed off.

I took a step closer. “It’s just what?”

For several long seconds, we stood in the middle of the museum staring at each other. It didn’t matter that we were in a public place, surrounded by people we didn’t know. Everyone—every sound—fell away. It was just Lauren and me. I set my hand on her hip and her breath hitched. “Lauren.”

At the sound of her name passing from my lips, her eyes fell closed on a long, slow blink. “I don’t want to hope,” she finally admitted.

“Hope what?” I asked, my heart caught in my throat.

Her eyes flicked between mine. “For a happy ending of my own. Of our own.”

With that admission, she dropped my gaze and looked away. Almost as if she was ashamed for having admitted her secret desires, of being embarrassed that she’d thought about us beyond the present.

Well, fuck that. I was ecstatic to hear those words. Every time I’d mentioned Lauren staying and she’d put the discussion off—or changed the subject altogether—I’d grown increasingly worried I was the only one who felt this way. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen in love with the first woman I’d had sex with, but I had and there was nothing I could do about it. Not that I wanted to. Lauren was the best damn thing that had ever happened to me and I didn’t care who knew it.

I tugged Lauren to me and wrapped my arms around her, pressing her head to my chest. “I think I might be in love you,” I said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

Lauren’s arms came around my middle and she squeezed me back. “I think I might be in love with you too.”