Banks makes a noise under his breath that sounds like a cross between a scoff and a groan.
Now I’d like to know what’s going on. “Is this about the cinnamon roll?” I wonder. Cinnamon roll is our code name for the “bun in the oven” because if I do have a bun in the oven, I’m hoping it’s the sweet kind. My fucking favorite.
“No,” Banks says. “It’s about Farrow being best friends with my brother.”
Farrow’s brows shoot to the moon. “What?”
“Yeah, what?” I frown.
“You stole Thatcher from Akara,” Banks says plainly.
Farrow holds up both hands. “I did not do that.” He turns to Akara. “You can have him back.” He cringes as soon as he says it, like maybe he doesn’t mean it.
“I’m not worried about your friendship with Thatcher,” Akara shoots Banks a look like shut up.
Friendships.
I don’t understand the non-family kind of friends as much as Akara and Banks. Being on the outside of their friendship drama is where I like to be. Far, far away from the bullseye. Observing is more fun anyway.
Farrow’s cellphone beeps. Without hospital scrubs or a white coat, he looks more like my roommate than my physician. It makes this a little less nerve-racking. His eyes lift to me. “I’ll be right back with your lab work.” He leaves the room.
“Moment of truth.” I loosen my grip in their hands to wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. I thought we’d have to wait at least fifteen minutes.
Maybe thirty-seconds later, a knock sounds on the door.
We all go quiet.
13
BANKS MORETTI
She’s pregnant.
Farrow makes the announcement, and I could double-back into a million different earth-shattering, soul-swelling feelings. Elation. Fear. Pride. Insecurity.
Motherfucking insecurities.
I bunt those aside, and I embrace what matters the most. Sulli. Akara. Our triad. Our future together. A baby.
A fucking baby.
I begin to smile.
(Look, Mom, I got a girl pregnant.) Maybe. Could be Akara’s baby. The humor inside my head deflates like a whoopie cushion fart.
Sulli’s grip in my hand only tightens with the news. “I’m pregnant? You’re fucking sure?”
“I’m sure,” Farrow says easily. “By the information you gave me, you’re about 4-weeks along. I’m going to grab an ultrasound and confirm the fetal heartbeat.” He smiles at her. “Congratulations.”
An overwhelmed smile plays at her lips.
I could toss Farrow the keys to heaven’s gates if I had them. For not casting doubt or shame on Sulli. But instead, he elevates the happiness in the room.
I bend down and kiss her cheek. She clutches my bicep, keeping my head near her head. “You’re not going anywhere?” She’s scared, which is a gut-punch, a soul-punch, a dick-kick. And everything in my being wants to soothe Sulli.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I promise like I always have. Akara is the one who has left before, but I understand needing extra reassurance from me too. One of her greatest fears is being left behind, and a baby is complicating the fucking system we have in place. “I’m always beside you. Or in front of you. Or behind you. Depending on where I need to be.”
“Where I tell him to go,” Akara smiles.
My mouth curves up. “Can’t get enough of ordering my ass around.”
“Can’t get enough of you.”
I love you too, Nine. I don’t say the words because she’s asking him, “You’re not leaving, Kits, right?”
“Never.” Akara kisses the top of her head. “I’m always on the other side of you.” He’s implying that I exist next to Sulli too.
That gets to me. How strongly Akara has been holding onto not just Sulli…but onto me.
Sulli soaks up our happiness. “We’re fucking doing this. We’re having a baby.”
“Our fudging baby,” Akara teases.
Sulli grins. “Our little fudgsicle.”
We all laugh. Mother of God, I’m so in love with Sulli. And I know I’m rooted to her, but sometimes being this deeply in love feels like jumping into a bottomless crater. Where I’m falling for eternity.
Where I’m reaching out for the other two sets of hands as they fall with me.
“Congratulations to you, Kitsuwon,” Farrow tells Akara, and cold blows over me—thinking Farrow knows something we don’t. Can’t be fucking right. No one took our DNA. “And to you, Banks.”
I almost had a heart attack. I exhale a tensed breath. Knowing Farrow only took a half-second to mention me too, but Christ, that felt longer.
Akara is eagle-eyeing the fuck out of me. I want to tell him I’m fine if the kid is his biological kid. I’ll be a great uncle. I’ve been preparing for uncle-hood more than fatherhood. But I can’t stomach saying the words in front of Farrow. Just so he’ll run off and possibly tell Thatcher.
Love my brother to the ends of the fucking earth, but I don’t want him to be overprotective of me when it comes to Akara. He doesn’t need to take sides or come to my defense. I’m not in a lose-lose competition with Akara Kitsuwon anymore. We haven’t been since Yellowstone, and that feels like eons ago.