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He scowled. "You could have reminded us."
Riley grunted and said, "Let's not point fingers. Right now, we have to look at our options and think over this carefully."
Ryan swung around and glared at his brother. "What's there to think about? The answer is pretty damn obvious. She has the damn baby and hello responsibility."
"You're freaking out," Riley said. "You've got to calm down."
I chewed on my lower lip. "There's always... abortion..."
Riley's face blackened. "If you really want to, but, Scarlet, that's up to you. We're not forcing you to get rid of the baby." He placed a hand over my belly. It had only been a short while, so there was no possible way any change could have happened. The baby was probably still the size of a poppy seed, but his gesture made the situation feel more real. "I'm just saying I want you to keep it." He looked at his brother to gauge his reaction.
Ryan stopped pacing and let his shoulders sag. "The prospect is frightening, but it's not necessarily bad. It seems a little too soon for me to be a father, but if someone's going to be the mother of our child and start a family with us, there wouldn't be a better person in this world."
"We'll take care of you," Riley said. "And the baby."
I couldn't stop myself from smiling. Being pregnant scared me shitless, but with the twins around, we'd be able to get through this, together. It seemed too good to be true, that my twins would want to linger around for a life-long commitment. I decided to embrace my inner romantic like Kristie did, and accept that maybe this could work out after all, that they truly wanted a relationship with me.
My mind blanked out. How should I have reacted to them? "Thank you," I said, hugging Riley.
"It sounds pretty exciting, doesn't it?" he said.
Ryan joined us in our big, tight, warm, snuggly bundle of love. A passerby would probably find us gag-inducing.
"This doesn't mean I'm not freaking my balls off right now," Ryan said. He frowned. "I never liked kids."
Riley laughed. "I find them quite endearing."
"Not the ones who copy everything you say and act like they own the whole f**king world."
"There are cute ones, too."
I palmed my stomach. "Ours is going to be cute. I just know it." Either that or I simply wanted a good kid. I've heard of horror stories, like waking up in the middle of the night and whole marriages being ruined. Our relationship had been on shaky ground for the most part. A mischievous kid might make things worse. Much worse.
I looked at Ryan and Riley, and their lovable dimpled smiles. We'd take things one step at a time. No use worrying myself to death.
"I wonder who fathered the child," I thought aloud.
Ryan shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"We're identical twins," Riley continued for his brother. "The kid will end up having the exact same genes anyway."
I pursed my lips. "That makes sense."
"What matters is that you're the mother, and we're going to do everything in our power to make sure the both of you get the best lives you possibly can."
At that moment, it struck me that I wasn't some random fling. They truly had feelings for me and cared. If I were some fling, they'd simply send me away as soon as they heard the news.
Happy tears stung my eyes.
Ryan stood up and stretched. "Let's get some breakfast. We can't have you weak and tired now that you're expecting, can we?"
"The both of you are unbelievable," I muttered.
"We know," they replied in unison, flashing two adorable smirks.
Three weeks had passed since I found out about my pregnancy. We went to the doctor to confirm it, and the test came out positive, again. My fate was sealed then, but I had begun to get used to the idea.
I was beginning to get into a craze, buying baby socks and bibs. I didn't even know whether to get blue or pink since it was too early to find out its age.
Everything was going smoothly, so smoothly that daisies could pop out the top of my head at any minute. I was dating two billionaires, who were willing to share, and they had a bitchy mother who quite clearly wanted to kill me—what could possibly go wrong?
The directors of TTA international had arrived a few days ago, and we had arranged a function to welcome them.
The function was pretty rushed and things went full-on hectic the last couple weeks, but we managed to book the ballroom of a six-star hotel, get the decorations, invitations, food service, and all the other planning stuff done on time.
I had been running on superwoman overdrive the last few nights, and as much as the twins wanted to get into my pants, I controlled myself, grit my teeth and said no.
Now, I stood in the middle of the well-planned function wearing a dress. A very expensive dress. The price tag on it was fatter than the whole of the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to refuse it, but the twins said that if I were going to cohabitate with them, I'd better get used to such things. Before I had the chance to stop them, their as**sistant was already standing in front of the checkout, poised to pay for the dress.
