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I know it because I feel the same.

If she ran, I’d chase her down, and nothing could stand in my way.

The vial fills, and I remove the needle while quickly covering the puncture with a cotton ball.

“I’ll have Danner make my schedule for next week a little more flexible.” Satisfied, he exits the room, surely to start planning whatever tortuous event will come with the results.

“Feel okay?” I ask quietly. I screw the cap on and secure the vial in the container that I’ll have delivered to the lab. “Lightheaded?”

She cups her palm over the puncture, holding the cotton ball. “I’m fine.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out a small piece of chocolate. “Eat that.”

Taking it, she eyes me skeptically. “You’re letting me have sugar?”

“You need to keep your blood sugar stable.” I shrug as if it’s nothing, but all of this is something. One more step, and we’ll know.

“Nervous?” she asks as if she’s reading my mind.

“About what?”

“Being a father?”

I look at the spot on the ground, the carpet slightly worn from the pressure of my knees. I was nervous last night. Today, I’m fucking terrified of this child being raised by the monster that just left this room. By the expectations that’ll be placed on its shoulders. Of the consequences if it’s a female. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve prepared for this my entire life.” I lift my chin and tuck the container under my arm. “To create is to reign.”

10

Verity

The envelope restsagainst my juice glass when I arrive in the dining room for breakfast. My name is scrawled across the pale pink paper in silver ink.

“What’s this?” I ask Danner, who’s standing by the door that leads to the kitchen. The sounds and scent of breakfast being cooked in the adjacent room waft in. My stomach growls.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he says with a small, secretive smile. “It was delivered this morning.”

I’m trying to place the handwriting when Pace and Wicker walk into the room, although I catch the scent of them—sweaty and male—before I see them. Another perk of pregnancy is this horrifically heightened sense of smell. A wet stain of sweat makes Wicker’s heather gray FU shirt stick to his sculpted chest. Pace is in the process of pulling his own sleeveless shirt on, arms raised to slip it over his head, and I can’t help the way my eyes decide of their own volition to take a peek at his toned torso.

His abs are like warm, sculpted granite.

“Morning, Danner,” Wicker says, walking past me without a glance. He leans over the table to reach for a muffin, but Danner, moving with a speed I didn’t know he possessed, blocks his hand. Wicker glares at him. “Dude!”

“If you’d like to eat breakfast, then sit.” His head tilts at Pace. “You, too.”

“You know Lex won’t let us eat upstairs without showering,” Pace says, tugging his shirt down. “We just ran five miles. Can’t you give us something to eat? I’m fucking starving.”

“If only your brother’s standards on hygiene were passed to you two,” Danner replies dryly. “If it’s okay with the Princess, then you can stay. I won’t even remark on your attire,” his nose wrinkles, “nor your stench.”

They all look at me, but I’m still distracted by the envelope. “Sure, whatever.”

The guys are in a fight.

I first noticed the tension on Monday evening during Ashby’s sick and twisted version of ‘Family Dinner’. That first night, I wondered if it’s because I shook things up by choosing Lex, but now that it’s been almost a week of him sleeping in my bed, I’m sure it’s something else. It’s been a point of fascination for me, being so close that I can feel the low-simmering friction between them, but not close enough that they’ll drop the façade of unity. They still pretend nothing is amiss.

Or try to, at least.

Wicker drops into his regular seat and Pace follows, each grabbing a muffin and tearing off the paper wrapper.

“I’ll tell the cook to make two more plates,” Danner sighs, headed toward the kitchen door.