“You want a kid, man, we’ll all donate sperm for you. We could mix them all together so we have no idea who the father is.” Sam laughs.

“There’s no f**king way I’d let one of you get Sky pregnant. No.” Absolutely not.

“You ever need my sperm, you let me know,” Sam says. “Hell, I don’t have a girlfriend. I’d be happy to participate. Give me a magazine and a little plastic cup.” He makes a crude gesture with his hand.

What’s bad is that he’s half serious. Any of them would do it for me, I’m pretty sure. “I’ll be happy with the kids we have. I already love Seth and Joey and Mellie.”

“Do you worry at all about people’s perception of them, and you when you’re with them?” Paul asks. He’s playing devil’s advocate, I’m sure, because we weren’t raised to see a difference in color. We see people, the way it should be.

“I don’t worry about it at all. None whatsoever.” That’s the God’s honest truth. “I’m humbled by the very idea of being their dad.” I have to swallow past the lump in my throat all of a sudden. Paul squeezes my shoulder. That doesn’t help.

“So what happened at the wedding?” Sam asks. He rubs his hands together like he’s excited.

“Sky got scared. She took off when she thought I had still have feelings for April. I had to go to her and prove that I don’t.”

“Did Emily f**k it up for you by mentioning the letter?” Logan asks. He winces.

“That letter saved me,” I say, chuckling.

“What letter?” Sam and Pete look at one another.

“I wrote a letter to April when I was dying,” I tell them. They had no idea. “I wrote one for all of you.”

Sam raises his hand. “I want mine.”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “I didn’t die, so you don’t get a letter. Deal with it.”

“Em knew about the letters, but we didn’t?” Logan asks. He pretends to pull a knife from his chest.

“She promised to deliver them for me.”

He nods. “You trusted her. I’m glad.”

“She’s trustworthy.” I shrug my shoulders. He just smiles.

Sam stands up and stretches. “Well, if we’re not going to talk about jizzing in a cup, I’m going to bed.”

“Me, too,” Pete says. He gets up and pulls his keys from his pocket. “Emily’s going to drop Reagan off at home.”

Logan drops his feet to the floor. “I better go, too, then,” he says. He jerks on my ponytail as he walks by me. But then he walks back to stand in front of me. I’m happy for you, he signs.

I grin at him. Thanks. I need to talk to him about something. Tomorrow, do you think you can draw up a new tat for me?

Any idea what you want?

I know exactly what I want. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.

He nods and ruffles my hair because he knows how much that shit bothers me.

Then it’s just me and Paul.

“I’m really proud of you,” he says.

I jerk my head up. “What brought that on?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“It was the sex in the supply closet, right?” I pat my chest. “You know I got mad skills in the sack.”

He chuckles. “You got mad skills in life, Matt.” He closes one eye and looks at me. “You ever think about going to college?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I like what I’m doing.” I think about it for a second. “I might have to make my appointments a little earlier in the day, though, so I can be home at night.” Paul already does that when he has Hayley. He works late one week and comes home early the next.

“We can cover.” He nods. “Whatever you need to do, we’ll make it work, just like always.”

“Thanks.”

“You know she makes more money than you do, right?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“That she’s successful and educated? No. Doesn’t bother me at all. Hell, maybe I’ll stay home and be Mr. Mom.”

“You’d be good at that.” He lays his head back and closes his eyes.

“You ever think about going back to college?” I ask. He never even got a chance to go; he was too busy taking care of us.

He shrugs, suddenly looking really uncomfortable. He plays with a string on his jeans. “Never had time to give it much thought.”

Oh, he’s thought about it, if his avoidance is any indication. “You should go. When I move out to go live with Sky, it’ll just be you and Hayley here. You won’t know what to do with all the quiet.”

He snorts. “Like I could ever get rid of you guys. You’re all here more than you’re at home.”

“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly. I try not to get into his personal business, but I can’t help it.

“You can ask. I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“What’s going on with you and Friday?”

He groans. “Nothing. Why? What did she tell you?”

I try to play it off. “She didn’t tell me anything. There’s just, like, this undercurrent when you’re in a room together. What did you do to her?”

“I kissed her,” he blurts out.

I choke. “You kissed Friday?” I thump my fist against my chest, trying to restart my heart.