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Stone starts to giggle. “That can't be true. Girls don't poop.”
Gage stares at him like he's an alien. “How you've made it halfway through college is the eighth wonder of the world.”
“No seriously,” Knox presses. “They poop when pushing out the baby!”
Sometimes it sucks being the only sober one, though this beer is giving me a decent buzz. “A whole ass baby is going to be coming out of a hole no bigger than my cock. Whether or not she poops is really not my concern there.”
Knox snorts. “Suit yourself. But you'll never be able to unsee that.”
“What are you going to do when you have a kid?” Zayn asks. “Just not look?”
The smile is wiped straight from Knox's face. “In what world do you think I'm having a fucking kid?”
“The world where Delaney wants one,” I point out.
Zayn continues for me. “She'll look at you with those Bambi eyes and tell you she wants to have a baby, and like usual, you won't be able to deny her. Anything she wants, it's hers. Face it, Vaughn. You're whipped when it comes to her.”
He sits there and stares into his beer for a minute before throwing his head back against the couch. “Oh shit, I'm going to have a kid. What am I even going to name it? It better not be a girl. If I have a girl, chastity belts will be coming back in style. I don't give a fuck.”
Reaching over, Zayn pats him on the shoulder. “Don't worry. I'm sure that's still at least a couple years out.”
“Better be,” Knox groans. “I don't want to share her. Not yet.”
Until now, that's one thing that never occurred to me. I'm going to have to share Kennedy. But when I think about it, there's something about picturing her rocking our baby to sleep that makes me okay with that. And besides, it keeps her in my life for the long term. Like Knox said earlier, commitment isn't the worst thing in the world.
“So,” Gage changes the subject. “Did you go to any baby classes yet? Like Lamaze or whatever?”
“The fuck is Lamaze?” Knox spits. “Sounds like yoga with llamas.”
“Yoga with llamas?” Zayn deadpans. “Seriously?”
Knox shrugs. “They do it with goats, apparently.”
We all stare at him, dumbfounded, until I open my mouth. “What do you do, just sit around and Google useless facts all day long?”
“Ay! Knowing women shit when giving birth is not useless. Just you wait. You're going to call me afterward and tell me you can never look at Kennedy the same way again.”
I roll my eyes and focus back on Gage. “No, we haven't. I don't think we need it, though.”
“Bullshit you don't,” he says. “When my mom was pregnant with half-brother number three, she took step-daddy-dearest to Lamaze, and he had to learn how to tell her to breathe.”
Knox's face contorts in horror. “They fucking forget how to breathe, too? Nope. Never having a kid. I don't care what Bambi wants.”
Stone is laughing so hard he forgets how to breathe, while Zayn just watches Knox like he's the most interesting thing he's ever seen. Meanwhile, Gage pulls a Lamaze tutorial video up on his phone. It shows a man sitting behind a pregnant woman as he walks her through breathing techniques that help with the pain of contractions. Knox, being the little shit he is, gets up and grabs one of the baby dolls before shoving it under his shirt.
“Come on, Daddy,” he says to me with the utmost seriousness. “You're going to walk me through birthing this thing.”
I stare back at him, emotionless. “Call me Daddy again and I will literally vomit all over you.”
“Better get over here then.”
He sits on the floor, and I reluctantly get up and sit behind him. He leans back against me and bats his eyelashes.
“Darling, I'm scared,” he says with a southern accent he definitely doesn't have.
I chuckle. “It'll be fine, Sweet Cheeks. Just breathe.”
He throws a hand on his forehead dramatically. “But I forgot how! We never went to llama yoga!”
