Ava

“I’m torn between the six-foot-tall physicist and the five-foot-eight therapist,” I tell Jake behind the bar on Friday. “I want my child to be smart but also empathetic, so it’s a tough decision.”

He folds his arms, and his dark T-shirt pulls across the bunching muscles in his shoulders. “You’re seriously choosing the father of your future child based on his height and profession alone?”

I shrug. “There’s some additional information too, but all other things being equal, the details are definitely limited.”

“So once you decide, then what happens?”

“Well, I’m going against the advice of the doctor at the clinic and taking the cheap route, which means self-insemination.”

“Turkey baster?”

I roll my eyes. “Not exactly.” But close.

“Why does the doctor advise against that?”

“The clinic offers all this fertility help, and he thinks that’s what I need. I want to be careful with my money, though, so I’d rather do it on my own. At least at first. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“Fertility help?”

“You know, they’ll figure out when I’m ovulating and do the insertion at the best time. They can even give me some meds to make me ovulate, but all that costs money, so I want to try it this way first. Truth be told, I’m probably a prime candidate for the additional help, but I want to believe that my inability to get pregnant with Harrison was a fluke and doesn’t point to serious fertility issues.”

Jake winks at a girl across the counter and fills her beer before turning back to me. “Explain this to me. What makes the doctor think you need additional help?”

“I don’t have regular periods, so it’s hard for me to know when I’m fertile. I could buy those ovulation detectors, but really those are best used around the time you think you might be ovulating. Since I have no clue, it’s a giant waste of money.”

Wincing, he pulls a tap and pours himself a beer. I’m pretty sure the only time we’ve talked about this without Jake reaching for a drink was the morning at his apartment, and I’m starting to think he might have done so then too if it hadn’t been before noon. He looks horrified—like, truly horrified to be having this conversation—so I snap my mouth shut. I’ve been thinking about this so much that it poured out of me. I can’t tell Ellie because I know she’s not a fan of my plan anyway. But Jake’s a dude. He doesn’t want to hear about irregular periods and ovulation testers.

“I’m sorry,” I moan. “You were just being polite, and I responded with total diarrhea of the mouth. I’m becoming one of those women who overshares everything. I’m just trying to plan it all out before I get started, but I can’t plan like other women, and that’s frustrating.”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat and stares into his beer. “It’s too bad you can’t just have a guy you sleep with regularly, so you don’t have to worry about conserving the precious sperm for fertile moments.”

I grunt. “If I had a guy I slept with regularly, I wouldn’t be in this position, would I?”

He takes a long drink from his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I guess not.”

“Am I being an entitled brat? I just want a baby. I’ve worked really hard to set my life up so I’d be in a good position for a family. I have summers off, and I’ve worked two jobs so I could pay off my little house and have a good nest egg. I don’t drive a fancy car or go on elaborate vacations. I make good decisions because—” I snap my mouth shut and shake my head. “I am. I’m being an entitled brat. I think that just because I want something, I should have it and I should have it now. But it’s gonna be fine.”

Jake rubs the back of his neck and stares at me. “Fuck,” he mutters. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me through the swinging door into the kitchen. “On your birthday, were you serious when you asked me to help you?”

“I mean, drunk serious, but yeah.” I make a face. Did I ever properly apologize for putting him in that position? I am the worst. “Jake, I’m sorry about that. No one should ever ask something that big from a friend.”

He taps his fingers to his lips and studies me. “You know you’re never going to get knocked up on your own if you’re this stressed about it.”

I wince. Harrison used to say that.

“Stop putting so much pressure on making this happen.”

“You try to control everything. It’s no wonder your body won’t accept a baby.”

“Can’t you meditate or something?”

I lift my chin. “You might be right, but that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“Shit. I mean . . .” Reaching out, he tucks my hair behind my ear, then he puts a hand on the wall on either side of my head and leans in. And I mean he leans in. His heat is close, his eyes are on me, and his forehead is nearly touching mine.

A shower of flurries goes through my belly and up my arms, and long-ignored lust for my best friend wakes up and stretches her arms.

Down, girl. This is Jake. Not some hot stud preparing to take you home.

“Let me help you,” he says. “I want to help you.”

I drop my gaze to his mouth. It’s so close to mine and making me feel things I’m not allowed to feel. “Are you offering me unlimited sperm until I’m knocked up?” I’m trying to be funny and force a laugh, but laughter fails me when he’s this close and my heart is hammering.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I guess you could put it that way.”

“How would that even work? Would you just hand over a fresh cup of the goods every couple of days?” My second attempt at a giggle sounds maniacal, but my body is a flurry of excitement—because, yes, I have my reservations about doing this with a friend, but that doesn’t change that he’s offering me my dream. I want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze him hard. Instead, I study him and unsuccessfully try to read his thoughts. More than once in the last week, I’ve looked at potential sperm donors and thought about that awkward morning at Jake’s apartment. He never said no, did he? He had misunderstood my request, and then I shut it down as a bad idea before he could answer. “You’d really do this for me, Jake?”

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

My chest is warm. “I’m not sure I deserve that.”

“But I’m not jacking off into a cup.”

I frown. “Now I’m confused.”

His smile is soft, and his eyes sweep over my face. “I’ll help you have a baby, but we’re gonna do it the old-fashioned way so you can relax about it.” He shakes his head. “None of this ‘am I ovulating, am I not’ nonsense. Just you and me and old-fashioned baby-making until you have a little one growing in your belly.”

I blink at him. I think I know what he’s getting at, but considering the subject matter, I think it’s best if I get some confirmation. “I’m sorry. What exactly do you mean by old-fashioned baby-making?”

He straightens, putting some space between us. My heartbeat steadies, and I can breathe easier . . . yet I miss his heat.

“You know,” he says, “when a boy likes a girl a whole lot, sometimes they do this thing where they kiss, and then they give each other a special—”

I smack his arm. “Shut up!”

“You do know how to do it the old-fashioned way, right?” His face splits into a grin, but his voice is soft. “I mean, it hasn’t just been you and that turkey baster your whole life, has it?”

I can’t believe I’m smiling. He’s talking about us sleeping together, and I’m smiling. And . . . kind of hot. What’s wrong with me? Do I have a fever? Am I delirious? Is this even real? “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m an asshole who’s making you an offer. Take it or leave it.” Then he turns around and walks out of the kitchen, and I’m left standing here trying to wrap my mind around what just happened.

Jake

“This is the dumbest fucking thing you’ve ever done,” Levi says. He folds his arms and leans back against the bar. The place is closed. Barstools have been flipped, and the floors have been mopped. Outside, the streetlights gleam.

I meet my little brother’s eyes and shrug. “I’m not denying that.”

“So what happens when she gets pregnant and carries on with her plan to be a single mom? Then you have a kid out there.”

And at least she’s part of my life. “Lots of kids are raised by parents who aren’t together. But if I have my way, that won’t be what we’re dealing with here. You don’t understand, Levi. I decided a long time ago that I wanted Ava in my life one way or another. That’s why I kept my mouth shut when she married that asshole.”

Levi grimaces. “This is different. This changes everything for you. Have you thought about that?”

“I can either watch her have some other man’s baby, or I can watch her have mine.” I shrug. Honestly, once that became the crossroads in my mind, my decision was clear. Offering to give Ava a baby is the biggest gamble of my life. But is it really a gamble, given the alternative?

When I saw that stack of papers on Ava’s table with details of potential sperm donors, my mind was made up.

“Somebody’s gonna get hurt,” Levi says. “Seriously hurt. And I’m afraid it’s gonna be you.”

“At least I’ll know that I tried.”

Ava

“He said what?” Teagan says.

“He said he’d do it, but only if we did it the old-fashioned way, because that’s the only way I’m going to be able to relax enough to get pregnant.”

Teagan snorts. “Well, that’s a line I’ve never heard before.”

I slap her on the arm. “Come on. This is Jake we’re talking about. It’s not like this is all some elaborate scheme to get in my pants.”

“But isn’t it? I mean, he’s single, and not a manwhore hopping into every available chick’s bed—because trust me, I’ve tried—so you know he jacks off from time to time. What harm would it do to hand over the goods? But instead, he’s all”—she lowers her voice to a low rumble—“It’s better if we do it this way, sweet Ava. We’re more likely to succeed if I’m actually doing the dirty with you. I bet he’ll have an excuse for going down on you, too.”

My cheeks flame so hot at that image. I’ve been trying to ignore the bits and pieces of me that are interested in Jake’s proposal for non-maternal reasons. “Shut up,” I growl.

Teagan winks at me. It’s girls’ night, and we’re sitting in our booth at the back of Jackson Brews. I told Teagan I’d fill her in on my personal drama before the others arrived, but the truth is, I need someone to give me guidance. Since I already know how Ellie feels about my baby-making plans, I wanted to hear Teagan’s take. I’m so afraid I’m going to make a bad decision that I’m paralyzed. “You think it’s a bad idea,” I say.

Teagan’s eyes go wide, and her grin stretches across her face. “Are you kidding me? I think it’s a great idea. I have been in favor of you fucking Jake since . . . I don’t know, since I knew there was an Ava-and-Jake. You two are amazing together. There should be a name for you. Avake. Jayva.”

I grimace. Back in high school, Jake’s sister called us Jayva, and Jake hated it, which always made me think he hated the idea of anyone thinking we were a couple, so I hated it. “Please don’t use those words ever again.”

She chuckles. “Okay, okay, but you know what I mean.”

“I know we’re friends. I know this is complicated.”

“Right, right, and nobody wants to ruin a friendship for a couple of hot nights, but now you have an excuse, and if you get a baby out of it, bonus.”

“What if it makes things weird between us? Can we have a bunch of sex and then go back to being friends?” There’s the rub. It’s the question that’s been haunting me since Jake’s indecent proposal. I promised him I’d think about it, and in the five days since I’ve done nothing but think. And think. And overthink. On one hand, it’s exactly what I want, and the intimacy of lovemaking over turkey basting appeals to me on the most basic level. On the other hand, what if it screws up me and Jake? Am I selfish enough to risk our friendship?

“Let me get this straight,” Teagan says. “You don’t think it’s going to be weird to have his baby and be his friend, but if you have a few orgasms along the way, it might be too much to handle?”

“Can you orgasm with someone and just be friends?” I ask. I don’t notice Levi at the table until Teagan turns to face him.

“What do you think, Levi?” Teagan asks. “Is it possible?”

Levi grins at her. “Wanna go into the restroom and find out?”

“Boy, don’t tempt me. You have no idea how long it’s been.” She turns back to me. “I think the real question is whether you want to have orgasms with”—her gaze shifts to Levi and then back to me—“you know.”

Levi folds his arms and stares at me. “To orgasm or not to orgasm? That’s the question?”

I like how they say that as if I’m capable of orgasming with anyone.

“She doesn’t hate the idea,” Levi says to Teagan. “Look at those cheeks.”

“Why are you even here?” I ask him.

“Levi has a Spidey-sense for women talking about sex,” Teagan answers.

“It’s true.” Levi nods. “It’s a gift, really. That, and I’m filling in for Jake tonight. Something came up, and he needed someone to cover the bar.”

“Can you get us some drinks?” Teagan asks. “I think this conversation calls for tequila.”

Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head. “Just beer for me. Do we have any of the vanilla imperial stout left?”

“Sure thing.” He turns to Teagan. “And for you?”

“Well, if you weren’t serious about the orgasms, I guess I’ll have the imperial stout too.”

“Sweet. Coming right up.” He meets my eyes and the humor falls from his face. “Just think it through before you jump into his bed,” he says softly.

“What?” I squeak. Was I stupid for thinking he wouldn’t know who we were talking about?

He shrugs. “Drinks will be out in a minute.”

“Yikes,” Teagan says as Levi walks away. “I’m sorry. I thought I was being cautious.”

I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a secret.” And if we do this, it won’t be.

My phone buzzes in my purse, and I pull it out to see a text.

Jake: Have fun with the girls tonight. I’ll come by your place Friday. I’d like to review the benefits of turkey-baster alternatives if you’re up for it.

Teagan tips my phone down so she can read the screen, and I don’t stop her.

“What should I reply?” I ask.

She smirks. “How do you spell bow-chicka-wow-wow?”