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“You’re all exhausting.” I roll my eyes as Phoebe unlatches. I lift her up over my shoulder, patting her back gently. She coos and gargles, and I kiss the top of her head as I fasten myself back up.
Nursing bras are the best things to ever exist.
“Aw,” Ben mutters. “I enjoyed the view.”
“I’m literally dripping milk right now. Go pour some milk, it’s the same thing.”
“It most certainly is not.” Topher’s words weren’t… husky, were they?
“I could’ve fixed that,” Ben argues.
I tilt my head, raising my brow. “And you’d do that, how?”
“With my mouth, of course.”
I moan, covering my face with one hand, the other still supporting Phoebe, as Seb and Topher both chuckle.
“Pass Phoebe’s nappy bag and stop talking about my nipples,” I say, gesturing my head to the grey bag near the door. Ben moves to do as I instructed. I look up at Seb. “Shower.”
“Fine.” Seb kisses my temple and turns and jogs up the stairs.
“No instructions for me?” Topher asks, cocking a brow.
“You’re all so bloody needy tonight,” I groan. I lay Phoebe down on the sofa and change her bum, grateful when Topher bins the nappy for me. But the moment she’s fully clothed again, she wants back on the boob.
“All of you,” I murmur, kissing Phoebe’s nose before unlatching my top once more.
I listen quietly as they tease and bicker, as both Alex, and then Seb, come back to join the group. It’s the most normal and relaxed I’ve felt in weeks, and weirdly enough, I think it’s because we got confirmation of the court date instead of it just hanging over my head.
Now if the door knocks or a car drives by… I don’t need to worry about someone coming to snatch my daughter. It could still be Ethan, I suppose, but there’s more... certainty now.
Any plans we formulate will be actual plans and not just hypotheticals.
“So, what have you found?” Alex asks, directing his words to Seb. He grabs two slices of the cheese pizza, a slice of the pepperoni, and one of the veggie and puts it all on a plate. He passes it over to me, and I nod in thanks.
We often sit around the table, but tonight, when Phoebe doesn’t want to stop feeding, we’re eating in the living room, having a more comfortable meal instead.
“Give,” Seb demands, holding his hand out. I frown up at him, but he just takes the plate.
“Hey, no, if anyone is getting Maia’s food, it’s me,” Ben protests.
“Nobody is eating her food,” Topher snaps, glaring at Seb, before realisation hits. “Oh, smart.”
“Shit, sorry, little butterfly, I didn’t think to cut it up.”
I shrug. “It’s smart. Less risk of dropping anything onto her head this way.”
Ben gasps. “Have you done that before?”
I press a soft kiss to Phoebe’s head, where, of course, I’ve dropped food, and shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“If you did, would you still eat it?” Ben asks, looking around the room. “You know, hypothetically.”
“Of course, not,” I say, echoed by Alex.
I most definitely did.
“Back to the main topic we’re meant to be discussing,” Alex says once they all have their food. “What did you find?” He puts emphasis on the words, giving his brother a frustrated look.
