She helps me to my feet, jumping on me like she needs me as much as I need her. I don’t have to tell her twice to wrap her legs around my waist before she’s guiding me inside her, exactly where I need her to be.
Maybe it’s all we’ve been through in the last two hours, or maybe this is how it’s always going to be with her, but she rides me like she’s never going to get close enough—like she doesn’t want to go a single moment without me inside her.
It doesn’t get much better than this—my girl in my arms, her back against the shower wall, and some of the best sex of my life. The only thing that could ruin the moment is someone knocking on the door, barging in like they own the place.
And that’s exactly what happens when I turn my head and see Easton’s shadow. “What the fuck are you doing? Get out of my bathroom.”
“I figured you were fucking when nobody answered the door.”
I make sure Noelle’s covered as I slip out of her and turn the water off. Easton at least has the decency to keep his head turned and hand us a couple towels now that he’s ruined the moment.
When Noelle’s in a towel and warm, she hurries into the bedroom, leaving Easton and me standing next to the sink. “Do I even want to know what was so urgent that you had to come in here?”
He draws a heart on the mirror, spelling out his name in the center. “As sweet as this is, put some clothes on and meet me in the living room. My wife has been losing her shit for an hour.”
Noelle’s sitting on the edge of the bed, all wrapped up when I get there, her eyes focused on her toes running through the rug under her feet. She’s right in front of me, but she’s a million miles away. “Do you want one of my shirts?”
She nods but doesn’t move.
I take the towel turban off her head and run a brush through her tangles. Her head falls forward, resting against my stomach. Finally, she says, “Easton’s mad at me. I can tell.”
“Why would he be mad at you?”
“Because I have Lark all worked up. I left her in the box and she was probably freaking out when I didn’t come back. I told her I was going to the bathroom.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because both her and Gina told me to stay in the box. I didn’t want to, so I lied about where I was going.”
“Then I guess I’m mad at you, too,” I tell her as I slip a T-shirt over her head, pulling the wet strands of her hair out from underneath the collar.
“Great. Maybe I should go home since you all hate me.”
I pull her off the bed so she’s standing in front of me, devouring her lips to remind her how much I want her here. In between kisses, I tell her, “Leaving would be the stupidest thing you could ever do.”
She pulls me backward until we fall into bed. The shirt I just put on her is up around her waist, and I want nothing more than to finish what we started in the shower. “Motherfucker.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Lark and Easton are in the living room. We have to get up.”
We might have hurried a little bit more had we known how upset Lark really was. When I open the bedroom door, she’s huddled next to Easton on the couch, crying on his shoulder.
“Lark?” Noelle whispers when she stands in front of her.
“I hate you, Noelle,” she says around a strangled sob. “I thought you were dead.”
Noelle kneels down in front of her best friend, her hands resting on Lark’s knees as she tries to get Lark to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
Lark’s face softens the slightest bit, but Easton still looks like he could punch a hole through the wall. He hates seeing his girl upset as much as I hate when Noelle cries.
“East, why don’t we get a drink in the kitchen and let them talk?”
He reaches for Lark’s chin, forcing her to look at him. “Please, calm down. It’s not good for you to be this worked up. It’s not just us anymore, Lark.”
Lark nods, and while I make the quick connection, Noelle just sits in silence, waiting for Easton to finish talking some sense into her friend.
But when he stands, he gives my girlfriend a look icy enough to leave frost on the tip of her nose.
“Enough, East. She feels bad enough about what happened. She had no way of knowing the alarms would go off.”
“Well, Lark spent so much time checking the bathrooms, looking everywhere for Noelle, something could have happened to her—or our child.”
Noelle raises her head as tears drip down her cheeks. “What?”
Easton runs his hand through his hair and paces back and forth between the kitchen and living room, hesitant to look at Lark after spilling the news during his tantrum.
“I’m pregnant,” Lark says, barely above a whisper. With her head held a little higher, she glances at Easton and then back at Noelle. “And I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend—and you’re going to be this baby’s godmother, if you can stay out of trouble for ten minutes.”
“The godmother? You’re really having a baby?”
Lark nods and Noelle breaks down. Now I have two sobbing women on my couch. I look to Easton for a clue about what we do with the two of them, but he just shrugs and watches. “She cries all the damn time. Pregnancy hormones are seriously fucked up.”
Laughing, I hold out my hand to offer my congratulations, but he hugs me instead. “Glad you’re all safe, East.”
“Can you believe I’m going to be a fucking dad?”
“Considering all the time you two spent on the tour bus together, it doesn’t really surprise me, but you’re still going to have to work on all those fucks you give.”
“I fucking should, right?”
“You should probably start now. Something tells me it’ll be an adjustment for all of us.”
Easton takes a beer out of my fridge, shaking his head. “A kid is going to be an adjustment. I haven’t slept a solid night since she told me. I keep checking to make sure she’s okay in the middle of the night. There’s a human growing inside her. It’s fuckin’ wild.”
“When did you find out?”
“Last week. She wanted to wait until Noelle was here before she said anything. Before I opened my mouth and spilled the secret, there was this whole dinner party planned—like we’re suddenly all proper and shit, eating beef kabobs and fondue.”
“The fuck’s fondue?”
“Melted cheese.”
“Why don’t they call it that?”
“Hell if I know. It’s a chick thing,” he tells me as I pop the top off my own beer and lean against the kitchen counter. “Fucking fondue, man. Fondue and babies.”
“There’s fondue? We should get pizza,” Dom says, as he rounds the corner and sits on a stool at the island.
“Does anyone knock anymore?” I look over to the couch and find Gina sitting next to Noelle. They’re both surrounding Lark with the computer in front of them, most likely looking for baby shit.
“Considering I found your naked ass in the shower, I’d go with no.”
Dom looks between the two of us, laughing. “I don’t even want an explanation. I’ll let that one go. Congrats on the kid, East.”
As the three of us watch our girls from the kitchen, it’s apparent this baby thing could be contagious. The way their eyes light up and they ooh and ah over every single thing they look at, there’s no doubt in my mind we’ll have a slew of little ones running around together someday soon. “We’re all fucked, aren’t we?”
“It’s the beginning of the end,” Dom says.
Easton smacks him on the back of the head. “The hell it is. I’m not done rocking shit yet.”
“The only thing you’ll be rocking is a newborn, East.”
“Fuck. You’re so right,” he tells me with a grin on his face. He may act like it’s no big deal, but if you set him free he’d be holding Lark in his arms, rubbing her stomach the first chance he got. He’s always wanted a family of his own, and in a couple months, he’ll have it.
Whether we’re ready for it or not, Midnight Fate is evolving, morphing into something new and different. We’re no longer making decisions for the three of us—we’re making decisions based on the girls we love and the kids who’ll follow.
To drive the point home, Gina and her ever-changing hair colors float into the kitchen. Although all she wants is a drink, she takes way more than that from Dom. After their display of affection, she wraps her arms around him and smiles. “We should have babies, too.”
He chokes on his beer, setting the bottle on the counter before he drops it. “We’re not even married yet, babe.”
“So what? You love me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“It’s just a piece of paper. We’d be kickass parents with the coolest kids.”
He kisses her lips, smiling against them. “You realize they don’t come out with purple hair and lip piercings, right?”
“Right, but we’d let them get them. They’d love us.”
I hate to rain on their parade, but I tell them, “There’s a little more to it than that.” And I’d know. There was a time I was more of a parent than a brother to my little sister. My dad was bouncing between jobs on different fishing boats, throwing our lives around during the short periods of time he would be home before taking off again for months at a time. He was a shitty parent, and probably the reason why I’m hesitant to have kids of my own someday.
“Lane?”
Noelle reaches for my face, running her hand along my jaw. “What’s wrong?”
She has no idea what I’ve been through and the weight I still carry on my shoulders every day of my life. She’s seen the scar on my chest, and I’m sure she realizes my past wasn’t lollipops and rainbows, but I never want her to feel as alone as I used to be. “My head’s killing me. Will you lock up when they leave?”
“Where are you going?”
“To bed.” Like an asshole, I lie about a headache before walking away from her. She’s gotta be confused about my sudden mood swing—and sometimes even I can’t keep up with the highs and lows that filter through my mind—but right now, I need to get away from it all.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the show and the night wearing off, but I need some peace and quiet.
When it gets too loud in my head, I don’t always make the most rational decisions.
When I open my eyes in the morning, I’m not expecting to find Lane staring back at me. After the way he left last night, I wasn’t sure what his mood would be like today. “How long have you been watching me sleep?”
“Long enough to know you still snore.”
I punch him in the arm, wishing I was a sexy sleeper. He was already passed out by the time everyone left last night, and when I crawled into bed next to him, he didn’t budge. It’s the first time we’ve slept in the same bed where his arms weren’t around me. It’s probably why I lay my arm over his chest and nestle my head in the crook of his arm.
“You cozy?”
“Much better. I was missing this.”
His fingers run along my arm, tickling me ever so slightly. “I didn’t hear you come to bed.”
“Because you sleep like a rock—a snoring rock.”
“Now you’re just saying that because I did.”
Smiling, I tell him, “You should make it up to me.”
“What if I told you that you can have anything you want? Would that make it better?”
I lift my head off his chest, praying he’s serious. “Anything?”
“Anything,” he assures me.
“Where’d this come from?”
“We were cut off last night in the shower, so today, you get whatever you want. I only have one request.”