Page 122 of Wicked Deceit

I sigh into Seger’s embrace, watching Chase from across the room.

He bends down, picking up the test he threw. He stares at it, finding more tests on the ground. Looking at them all, he swallows hard. Every emotion Chase feels shows on his tear-stained face.

“Dads?” He whispers through the shock. “Shit, we’re going to be dads! Holy shit! How did that happen?”

Seger snorts again. “Do we need to discuss the birds and the bees again?”

Chase frowns, “No! Sunshine—” He marches toward me, cupping my face. “Thank you.” He whispers before smashing his lips into mine. “This is the best thing since they approved the taco truck on campus.”

“Are you comparing me to a taco truck?” I ask through a smile as he nips my lips.

“Mmhmm. A sexy, delicious, pregnant—PREGNANT! Holy shit, you’re pregnant. You’re fucking pregnant. 911 the others!” he says, smacking Seger on the chest frantically, panic spearing through his gray eyes.

“You think he’s going to be okay?” I snort, watching Chase dig his phone out of his discarded running shorts. His entire body vibrates with excitement—or he’s terrified. Not sure which yet.

“Eh, maybe. Just imagine what it’ll be like when you give birth. He might be the one to pass out,” Seger says, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“Crap, I have to give birth,” I gasp out, imagining the intense pain I’ll go through. And all the doctors and nurses staring at my lady bits while I poop out a massive child.

Seger snorts again, nuzzling into my neck. “Mmhmm, and we’ll be there every step.”

I pat his back with love, feeling his words settle in. The boys wouldn’t have left me. They love me, and they want this. Well—two out of four at least.

Chase frowns. “I sent fucking 911 in the group chat, and Grumpy told me to fuck off. What the shit? 911 means emergency. What if this was urgent?”

“He has a big virtual board meeting,” I say, tapping my chin. “And Zepp?” I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

“I dunno, he—”

“What? What? What’s wrong?” Zepp asks through a wheeze, barging into the bathroom. His hand squeezes his shirt into his fist, breaths puffing out his chest. It surprises me to see him so sweaty and pale from running.

While he doesn’t play football anymore, he still works out with Chase and Seger like he is part of the team. After all these years, he still looks the same with those same assessing eyes and a stoic, serious face to match. His brown hair is longer than Seger’s now, almost shaggy and falling into his eyes. Dark circles underline his eyes from the stress of college and running a recording studio.

He eyes every inch of the room, assessing it like usual. Finally, his eyes settle on me, raking up and down my body. Seger kisses my cheek, stepping back to give Zepp room. His eyebrows furrow. “What’s going on?”

I lick my lips, taking a deep breath. "Um—I’m pregnant," I say quickly through a breath. The more I say it, the more natural it becomes.

Zepp blinks at me a few times, standing taller. His shoulders roll back, and he assesses me again from head to toe, only stopping his perusal when he makes it to my stomach. “How?” he asks in disbelief.

“Ah, geez, you, too? Do we need to discuss where babies come from?” Seger snarks, earning a middle finger from Zepp. “You put a big D into the little V, and voila! Orgasms and babies!” Seger expands, chuckling as one of them throws a shoe at him. “Ouch, fuckers!” He harrumphs, rubbing his chest.

“You’re pregnant?” Zepp whispers, and I nod in confirmation.

“Yes. At least that’s what these say.” Bending down, I pick up two tests and hand them to him.

He stares down at them with unblinking eyes, reading the results repeatedly. “Zepp?” My breath catches as I say his name, fear brewing deep inside my gut. “Zeppelin?” I question again, lifting his chin so he’ll look me in the eye.

If I thought I’d see anger or rejection, I was wrong. Tears flow out of his eyes, and he pulls me close, kissing my cheek. His arms force me against him, wrapping me in a tight hug.

“Too tight,” I mutter as he exhales into my hair.

“I love you, Kaycee,” he responds, not loosening a muscle. “I love you so much. This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Especially with what the doctor said…” he trails off, and I nod in understanding. “I’ll start researching. We need to find the best doctor in the area. You’ll need vitamins, monthly appointments, and ultrasounds. We’ll look up the best cribs, strollers, and safe proof the house.”

I smile into his shoulder as he continues on and on about our baby’s safety.

Zepp always has this way of putting me at ease. A giant comfort. And thank God he has everything under control with his planning. At least one of us does.

I take a deep breath, staring between the three guys. “I need to tell Grumpy.”