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“If you need to ask, you can’t afford it,” Jodie mutters, much to the woman’s amusement.
“There are very few who can,” she says in agreement. “Make the most of it. Everything you could need or want will be catered for during your stay. And we are under strict instructions regarding your safety, so please, relax, knowing that we’ve got everything covered.” She glances back at our drivers, also our security details, as if to tell them that their services aren’t required, although I can’t imagine they’d go against Damien’s order and abandon us here. Even if their skills could be used elsewhere tonight.
“Thank you. We really appreciate it.”
She excuses herself, and Jodie and I share another look of pure disbelief before taking in the room in more detail.
“This is fucking insane,” Rhea’s excited voice comes from down the hallway. “All six of us could fit in this bath with room to spare.”
Our eyes collide again, and both of us burst out laughing as our thoughts follow the same filthy line.
“If Rhea wasn’t here, I might even suggest it. Stella and Emmie would be in. Not sure about Calli,” I quip as we follow the voice to discover just how big this tub really is.“The boys would lose their shit when they found us.”
We find Rhea fully dressed and relaxed as if nothing is wrong in our world in exactly what she said. A massive fucking bathtub.
“Christ, the fun that could be had in that,” Stella says when a door on the other side of the room opens and she emerges into the elegant white and copper room.
“It’s really something,” Jodie mutters.
“Anyone wanna grab me that bottle of bubbles we passed in the living room?” Rhea asks.
There’s a beat of silence before we all look at each other, an unspoken agreement passing between us, and without a word, we all turn on our heels and race from the room.
“Hey,” Rhea complains. “What did I say? Where are you going?”
Emmie reaches the ice bucket that contains two bottles of champagne while Stella collects up the six glasses.
“Wait, this one is non-alcoholic,” Emmie says, screwing her face up like the label physically offends her.
“You’re shitting me,” Rhea sulks, having climbed out of the tub to follow us. “We’re at war and I can’t even have a little alcohol? They were all getting wasted and fucked every weekend when they were my age. It’s fucking bullshit.”
“It’s not for you,” Calli blurts. “It’s for me.”
Rhea’s lip peels back, not understanding why anyone would want a non-alcoholic drink. Although, in this situation, I can’t help but want to agree with her.
“Why the hell would—”
“No,” Stella gasps, her eyes widening as she steps closer with the champagne flutes still in her hands. “Are you—”
“Pregnant?” Emmie finishes for her.
Calli swallows nervously before she holds her head high.
“Yep. Ten weeks.”
“Ho-ly shit, Cal.”
“Does Daemon know?” Stella asks, still in as much shock as if someone told her that she’s the one who’s pregnant.
Calli throws her head back and laughs.
“Of course he knows. It was only you guys I was hiding it from.”
“Oh, nice,” Emmie teases.
“You’re really pregnant?” Rhea asks. “Like, growing an actual person?” Her eyes drop to Calli’s flat stomach in horror.
“Yep, a real person. I’ve got my money on a girl, but Daemon, Alex and Nico are convinced it’s a boy.”
