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“Shh, shh,” Carlee says. “Keep it down.”
Billie’s mouth falls open. “Oh my God. It was your pregnancy test in the trash at Easton’s party.”
Weston laughs. “Surprise! Now I’m crossing my fingers that we have four babies so I can outdo you, Easton.”
“Shut. Up,” Carlee tells him, her face paling. “One is more than enough.”
We each offer our congratulations to them, and Harper hasn’t stopped smiling. I imagine our children growing up together, getting into the same bullshit we all did. A smile touches my lips as I enjoy that vision.
Not long after, the energy in the room shifts again—this time quieter, more intimate—as my aunt and uncle arrive with their spouses. All of them are layered with different kinds of emotion, every one of them beelining for Lexi and the babies.
Billie’s the first to nudge Harper and round everyone up. “Come on. The grandparents need this moment.”
We take it as our cue to leave.
One by one, we slip out of the room; hugs and whispered congratulations are followed by promises to come back tomorrow to visit. I squeeze Easton’s shoulder on the way out, and Harper kisses Lexi’s temple with the gentleness only a friend can get away with.
By the time we reach the hallway, the door clicks behind us. And for once, there’s nothing left to say. This is a brand-new chapter for Easton and Lexi, and for Carlee and Weston. For all of us. And I’m looking forward to the future.
39
HARPER
The penthouse smells like coffee and vanilla, and faint music drifts in from the kitchen—Brody’s playlist, all oldies. The songs make me take a longer breath without even realizing it, and they remind me of being back at the cabin. I roll onto my side and stretch, feeling the delicious ache between my legs from the incredibly rough sex I begged for last night. Brody didn’t hold back, and I think I might feel him for weeks after that.
My phone is still on the nightstand, face down but buzzing with notifications. When I finally flip it over, it lights up with unread texts and photos that were taken yesterday at the hospital.
Weston
The caption for this photo is: Most Iconic Uncle of the Century.
He attached a picture of him holding two babies at once.
Carlee
You look like you stole them.
Billie
He did.
Weston
Blaze loved it.
Easton
We’re not naming one Blaze. Stop.
Asher
Too late. I think Weston already monogrammed some onesies.
They love trolling Easton because they know how easy it is to get a rise out of him. I smile and scroll through the pictures. Lexi is in bed, glowing and exhausted. Easton stands beside her, looking like he’s been hit by a truck full of emotions. The babies, tiny and swaddled, are all sleeping like they didn’t just rearrange the entire world by arriving.
I stop on one photo of me and Brody, taken by Carlee when we weren’t looking. He’s holding one of the boys, eyes downcast and focused. My arm is looped through his, my head tilted against his shoulder.
We look like a family. Not someday. Not maybe. Now.