I hold the scrap of material up in front of me, and she wasn’t kidding—I
will
have to rip it to get what I want. After I adjust myself, already preparing for a painful couple of hours until I get to take her to bed, I hang the lace on the hook nailed to the closet wall.
No less than five minutes later, we’re standing in front of Easton and Lark’s door, the sexual tension between the two of us so strong we had no choice but to run away from the bed if we wanted to save our promises for tonight.
I expect some sense of normalcy when Easton opens the door, especially after what we left behind upstairs, but I don’t get anything close to normal. Like it’s perfectly acceptable for him to look like a pregnant woman, he just stands there, waiting for me to say something. It’s not like I can ignore it.
“What?” he finally asks.
“Dude, I swear you’re the weirdest fucking couple I’ve ever seen. Your kink knows no bounds.”
He opens the door farther, but not before rolling his eyes at me. “Just get the fuck in here and shut up. What you see is nothing more than a sympathy exercise. It’s on the birth plan my wife has so graciously planned out for each month of her pregnancy.”
Noelle pokes him with her finger like his protruding stomach might bite her. “I thought birth plans were for delivery.”
Easton shrugs. “Lark is thorough. She likes to cover all the bases.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how you got her knocked up in the first place.”
“Well, aren’t you just Susie Sarcasm tonight, asshole.” He glances at Noelle then back at me. “Your girlfriend is wearing off on you.”
Of course, Noelle takes that as a compliment, her smile only widening. “Don’t mess with perfection, Easton. I happen to think Lane’s pretty awesome.”
“Well, that’s good, since you’re the one fucking him.”
This time, I’m the one smacking him. “Dude, filter.”
“I don’t get out much these days. Cut me a break.” He tells me as he peeks his head around the corner like he’s scared to walk into his own living room.
“Lark’s dressed, right?” Noelle asks him with a laugh.
“Of course she is. What the hell do you think we were doing?”
“How the hell do I know. I’m not the one dressed like a woman.”
“For fuck’s sake, it’s a
sympathy
bump! We don’t screw like this.”
“Technically, one of you does,” I remind him.
Noelle’s still laughing, but when she finally stops, she waves her hand in the air. “Wait a minute, before we go any further. Am I supposed to have sympathy for you because you’re wearing it? Or are
you
supposed to because you’re wearing it?”
East thinks about it for a minute and I can tell she just talked circles around him. He’s trying to figure out where the exit is and can’t. Finally, he says, “The sympathy is for my wife.”
“She did marry you,” Noelle reminds him as she passes him and hugs her best friend.
“You’re both fuckers.”
“Easton,” Lark scolds. “Don’t swear in front of the baby.”
This time, I’m the one looking around the room. For some reason, I’m expecting little robot babies or something to pop out from behind the couch. “What baby?”
Easton leans closer and whispers, “The doctor told us to play music for the baby and to read to it. Now she thinks it can hear everything we say.”
“How would the kid know the bad words when it doesn’t know any words at all.”
“The hell if I know. This is one twisted ride.”
“Remind me to get a picture of this before I leave.”
Easton holds out his hand, and he doesn’t look the least bit amused. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but hand over your phones.”
“What? Why?” Noelle asks as hers is ripped straight from her hand.
“You think I’m chancing this getting on the Internet? I may do weird shit for my wife, but it won’t be documented for the rest of the world to see.”
I hold up my hand for him to step away from my phone. “I’m keeping it in case Lemon or Reed call. But don’t worry, picture or no picture, I’ll never forget the motherly glow you’ve got going on.”
Lark beams from her spot on the couch. “Doesn’t he look adorable? He’s doing the forty-eight-hour belly challenge. It’s a way for him to experience what life will be like for me as I keep growing. This way, when I complain or have trouble, he understands what I’m dealing with.”
Noelle tries, but she just about dies laughing at her best friend. “Are you going to make him do the contraction simulator, too? I want to be present for that.”
East stares at Noelle like he wasn’t aware there was such a thing. Judging from the color draining from his face, he’s either about to shit himself or pass out.
“I love Lark, but unless I sprout a vagina in my sleep, this is as far as it goes for me.”
I sit next to Noelle on the couch, and as soon as my ass touches the cushion she throws her legs over my lap like we’ve been doing this for years instead of days. This is how it was supposed to be with her, drama-free. Although I can thank Lemon for one thing—at least she’s shown me what Noelle’s capable of when the fun disappears and reality comes knocking on the door.
“You two are adorbs,” Lark says with a wistful look in her eye. “It’s so fun when it’s new.”
“If you guys make Lark cry, I’ll kick your asses out.”
Noelle tips her head back, laughing at the mess the Becks have become. Easton’s super protective as usual, tossing threats around wherever he can—mostly because Lark’s clearly the one in charge these days. All she has to do is glance at Easton and he’s on his feet, ready to help her.
“Babe, sit down,” she tells him with a laugh of her own.
“Are you drinking all your water? I drew lines on your bottle so you can stay on track.”
She holds the clear bottle in her hands, checking out his work. “This is interesting. Thank you.”
“That wasn’t even on the birth plan. It was all me,” Easton tells us, proudly.
Lark smiles at him, and it’s easy to see how good they are for one another. There aren’t any long-lost sisters knocking on the door or innocent babies about to be born to a previously addicted and dependent mother and a dead-beat dad. Unlike that chaos, Lark and Easton’s baby will be born into privilege—a brand new prince or a princess in a castle.
“Are you okay?” Noelle asks me.
I nod, giving her the reassurance she needs even though my mind is all over the place. I’ve been so focused on Lemon I didn’t even consider the baby.
“So, enough about us. What’s new with you crazy kids?”
Noelle turns her head toward her best friend, not even bothering to ease into the conversation. “Lemon’s pregnant. She went to treatment today. I bought some killer lingerie and plan to screw this one senseless in a couple hours.”
“Jesus, Noelle,” I mutter when she manages to shock me with her mouth again.
“No shit,” Easton says. Thankfully, he leaves our sex life out of the conversation when he says, “I didn’t even recognize Lemon when we were at Lola’s. She looks so different than what I remember.”
“That’s because she is. It’s all so fucked up, man.”
“If you need anything, just say the words. We’ll do whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” And I know East means what he says. He’d do just about anything for me.
“Who’s the father?” Lark asks timidly, like there’s a good chance Lemon may not know. I almost wish that were the case. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about Rusty.
“Just an asshole who’s going to get what he deserves someday. That’s about all I can tell you.”
Lark nods, and this time she does tear up a little bit. “It makes me sad that all babies aren’t given the same chance.”
Noelle sees the waterworks coming and sits up to distract Lark before East loses his shit. “Let’s see some baby stuff! I’m sure you’ve bought one of everything by now.”
Easton mouths a silent ‘thank you’ to Noelle when she helps his wife off the couch and redirects her focus to something happier than Lemon’s situation.
As soon as they’re in the baby’s room, East lies flat on the floor, his hands massaging his lower back. “This bump is no joke, dude. I feel like I’ve been carrying around rocks all damn day.”
“If you start menstruating, I’m out of here.”
“You don’t do that when you’re knocked up,” he tells me very matter-of-factly.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
He can do nothing but laugh because there was a time the idea of being with one person for the rest of his life terrified him. Even I couldn’t see him settling down unless he did a lot of soul searching first. But that’s how life works. When you least expect it, the perfect girl knocks you on your ass and there’s no looking back. At least that’s how it’s been for me.
“Why don’t you guys just catch up so we can go through this shit together?”
“That wouldn’t be rushing things at all,” I tell him sarcastically, even though the idea doesn’t completely freak me out. “You’ll survive.”
He props himself up on his elbows, wincing as he does. “I swear, Lane, when she’s not going on and on about this birth plan and making weird green shit in the blender that smells like garlic and ass, it’s pretty great. I mean, there’s a little human inside her that we made—that blows my mind.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, ten minutes later, she comes down from her juice high and she’s bitching she’s starving.”
“Well, she’s eating for two. I’d wanna eat all the shit, too.”
“But here’s the kicker. It’s always loaded burritos from Sal’s, one of the unhealthiest restaurants on the planet.”
“So, what? She’s hungry.”
“So, what! I just suffered through green juice that makes my piss smell like Brussel sprouts so we could become a healthier family and she wants to chase it with Mexican. It makes no sense. Pregnant chicks are possessed.”
“Honestly, I’m thinking you’re acting pretty damn close, myself.”
He flops back down on his back, covering his face with his hands. “Nobody understands me.”
“Midol, man. I’m getting you some.”
“Fuck off, fucker.”
“Easton, language!”
He picks up the remote lying next to him and chucks it at my head. Dude’s got issues.
“Did you have fun with Lark?” Lane asks, leading me toward the elevators with his hand on the small of my back.
“Yeah, it was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Fine.”
“Babe, I spent six months on a bus with Lark and Gina. That was long enough to figure out that fine
never
means fine. If you’re pissed, say so. We can talk about it.”
“I’m not pissed,” I tell him, again, as I lean against the wall of the elevator.
I’m upset. There’s a difference.
He shrugs, but instead of insisting I’m lying, he’s the one who presses all the buttons in the elevator this time. “What are you doing, Lane?”
“I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“Don’t mock me. Why’d you do that?”
He moves closer, boxing me into the corner. “Because something’s bothering you and you won’t tell me what it is. Until you tell me, I’ll keep pressing all the wrong buttons and we’ll never get out of here.”
I glance at our reflection in the shiny metal walls, realizing he’s not going to give up until I talk. But I feel like it’s wrong for me to upset. “It’s so stupid it’s not even worth mentioning. I’m just tired. I barely slept last night.”