Page 41 of Forbidden Taste (An Omega’s Preference #3)

thirty-two

ONE YEAR LATER

RILEY

I’m staring down at the little white stick on the bathroom counter, two pink lines glaring up at me, and my brain short-circuits.

Shit shit shit shit. I grip the edge of the sink, the cool porcelain failing to ground me as my world tilts.

The last year has been everything—wild, messy, perfect—graduation a week away, our lives weaving together in this tiny apartment we’ve made ours.

I’ve been offered a position in France—six months playing with a symphony, a dream I never thought I’d touch—and a permanent spot at the Karlen Center, right here, where I could stay and build something with my mates.

Leo found a wonderful little shop to work with, bringing his nest designs to fruition.

He’s just started in the business but there’s already people clamoring for his insights.

Watching him flourish in an environment where he’s loved and sought after warms my heart.

Hawk’s been teaching, those adorable glasses perched on his nose, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he grins at his students, his vanilla musk lingering in the air when he comes home.

Leo’s also taken up a part-time job at a local carpentry shop, and he keeps bringing home trinkets—little wooden sculptures, a bird, a star, a lopsided heart—his sea-green eyes bright with excitement as he shows them off, his spiced apple scent spiking with pride.

Hawk doesn’t have the heart to tell him there’s no more room—the apartment’s overflowing, shelves cluttered, corners stuffed with his creations—and I’ve told Hawk I’m not doing it, not breaking that joy in Leo’s grin.

We’ll either need a bigger place or someone’s got to put their foot down, but I’m not ready to decide, not when I’m so in love with this—our arrangement, our life, the nest we’ve rebuilt to fit us all.

Dark greens weave between pinks and yellows.

They clash but I don’t care. It’s ours, a tangle of us, and it’s been perfect.

Especially when my parents are out of the picture.

They send money every now and then, trying to make up for all the bullshit over the years.

I know I’ll forgive them eventually but I’m having way more fun in this little bubble and spending late nights joking on the phone with Leo’s parents or just quiet evenings wrapped up in my mates.

Except now I’m pregnant. I drop the test, my hands flying to my face.

I didn’t plan for babies, not yet, not like this.

We got wild during my last heat and I’ve been feeling off for weeks, tired, queasy, my jeans tighter than they should be.

I thought it was the snacks—late-night chips, Leo’s homemade bread, Hawk’s sneaky chocolate stash—not this, not a baby.

I turn sideways in the mirror, lift my shirt, and groan.

There’s a little belly protruding, undeniable now that I’m looking. There’s no fucking way .

We’ve talked about kids, briefly, vaguely, late-night whispers about someday , about tiny hands and sleepy cuddles but not when, not how, not the dynamics or who’d be home to change diapers, to rock them to sleep.

I blow out a deep breath and grab my phone, my fingers fumbling as I send a text to our group chat.

SOS

I step out of the bathroom, the test clutched in my hand, and freeze—Hawk’s sitting on the stool at the kitchen island, his dark eyes wide, his glasses slipping down his nose, and Leo’s standing on the other side, his face pale, almost scared.

My stomach drops, my voice trembling as I rush forward.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart in my throat, and then I see it—the culprit, another positive pregnancy test, right there on the table between them.

I blink, my mouth opening, then closing, my voice cracking. “Wait… Leo, are you pregnant?” I stare at him, my test forgotten for a second, and Leo’s eyes dart to mine, shock written all over his face, his hands flexing at his sides.

“It just happened,” he whines, “I don’t know… I…” He trails off and I let out a nervous laugh, tears springing to my eyes, spilling hot down my cheeks. Hawk’s up in an instant, rounding the island, his hands reaching for me.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks, his fingers brushing my arm, and I hold up my test—two pink lines, clear as day.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” I shake my head, my tears falling faster as some part of me thinks that he’s angry with this development.

He stares, first at me, then at Leo, then back before a laugh breaks free.

“No? Jesus Christ, you guys can never make anything easy on me.”

Leo steps closer, something hopeful in his voice. “We’re both going to be daddies?” he asks, his gaze flicking between us, and Hawk nods, his grin softening, his hands pulling us both in—me against his chest, Leo’s arm brushing mine.

“Yeah,” Hawk says. “I think you are and you’re both going to be so goddamn beautiful.” He kisses Leo first and then me, his glasses bumping my nose, his vanilla scent wrapping around us. I melt into it, my tears slowing.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be? You both are giving me a gift. I know we didn’t talk about timelines, but this can work.

” He steps back, pacing now, his voice picking up speed, spilling plans like he’s been thinking about this forever.

“I can be a stay-at-home dad—teach online if I need to—or bring them to work, set up a little corner in the studio. We’ve got the savings, and Leo’s carpentry gig’s steady, and Riley, your job at the center would be flexible enough—we’ll figure it out, shift things around, make it ours. ”

Hawk trails off with more ideas as I turn to face Leo, laughing at the adorable pout on his lips.

My gaze dips to his stomach, the soft outline of his own belly mirroring mine.

That’s when the fantasy cuts through, both of us with full bellies, hormones flying, Hawk hilariously trying to please us.

I can only imagine how grumbly Leo will be, stomping around for whatever he needs. God, it’s going to be a madhouse.

Leo grins as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest and I snuggle in just a little bit tighter. “Are you ready for this?”

“Not in the slightest, but I’m pretty sure we’ve got everything we need right here, angel.” His hands tighten on my back, his heartbeat steady against my cheek. “Well, at the very least, I think Hawk’s been planning.”

We turn to face our Alpha still droning on about options before he pauses, eyes wide like he just got caught before a devilish smile slips across his lips. My scent spikes and then Leo’s, both of us groaning as Hawk steps closer. “Maybe we should practice a little more, hmmm?”

I snort. “Alpha, that’s not how this works. We’re already pregnant. You can’t make us more pregnant.”

Hawk slowly untangles me from Leo, kissing the life out of me before hoisting me into his arms. “And that doesn’t mean we can’t practice for the next ones. Now, I call being in the middle.”

A giggle tears from my throat, Leo’s thundering laughter following us as Hawk makes his way to our nest. Yeah, this is perfect.