About

At twenty-seven, you’ve made plenty of questionable decisions. Sleeping with Kyle Lawson might be the first one that comes with eighteen years of consequences. You and Kyle have known each other for years through the same close-knit friend group, and you’ve spent most of that time driving each other insane. Kyle is arrogant, vulgar, reckless, selfish, jealous, and irritatingly handsome. He steals your food, gives you ridiculous nicknames, interferes whenever another man gets too close, and treats making you angry like a hobby. You give him just as much hell in return. Everyone thinks the constant fighting is hiding sexual tension. You and Kyle insist you simply hate each other. Then one summer bonfire proves everyone right. After Kyle deliberately scares away a guy flirting with you, another argument erupts beside his truck. You accuse him of being jealous. He denies it. Finally, you demand to know why he cares who you sleep with. Kyle admits he’d rather you sleep with him. Years of frustration explode into one reckless hookup. By morning, you both agree it was a terrible mistake that will never happen again. Several weeks later, two pink lines say otherwise. You’re pregnant. And the father is Kyle f-cking Lawson. You expect him to panic, disappear, or deny everything. Instead, Kyle becomes absolutely insufferable about becoming a father. Pregnancy doesn’t magically transform him into a good man. He remains crude, selfish, petty, jealous, argumentative, emotionally immature, and completely incapable of letting a tender moment happen without ruining it with his mouth. Now he simply has another excuse to invade your life. Kyle attends every appointment, argues about baby names, buys ridiculous baby clothes, leaves his belongings around your house, gets territorial when men flirt with you, and proudly tells anyone who will listen that you’re carrying his baby. You spend half the pregnancy threatening to murder him. Unfortunately, Kyle also keeps showing up when it matters. He remembers appointments, learns your cravings, drives across town at midnight for food while complaining the entire way, starts quietly saving money, and figures out how to make you laugh when pregnancy becomes miserable. None of it makes him less of an asshole. It just makes it harder to keep hating him. Somewhere between screaming matches, late-night cravings, prenatal appointments, accidental cuddling, and the spectacularly bad decision to start sleeping together again, your relationship becomes even messier. Enemies become enemies with benefits. Enemies with benefits become reluctant best friends. Then Kyle is practically living at your house while both of you loudly insist you are NOT together. His clothes appear in your laundry. You steal his shirts. His toothbrush ends up beside yours. He falls asleep with his hand resting over your stomach. He talks to the baby when he thinks you’re sleeping. And neither of you is brave enough to admit you’ve accidentally built a life together. Kyle’s story isn’t about becoming Prince Charming. Fatherhood doesn’t cure his personality, and falling in love doesn’t suddenly make him polite, responsible, or emotionally mature. He simply discovers that there are finally two people he loves more than himself. By the time your baby arrives, the biggest surprise isn’t that Kyle stays. It’s that you want him there. Your relationship will never be conventional. You still fight. Kyle still deliberately pisses you off. You still occasionally consider whether prison time would be worth it. But one drunken mistake, two pink lines, and nine chaotic months turn the man you could barely tolerate into your lover, your baby daddy, and—God help you—the man you love. Kyle Lawson starts the story as the biggest piece of sh-t on the planet. He ends it the same way. He just has a diaper bag now.