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Social media has been flooded with excitement, and people are already camping out and tailgating in the streets. Sorry, Georgetown. On the other hand, the bars are already busy as people wait for the club to open.
“How does food sound?” Roark asks, leaning against the entrance to the living room.
My tummy growls and I hide my face in Turner’s neck as he chuckles at me.
“All that damn pacing,” Uncle Jordan murmurs. “Food sounds good, what are you thinking?”
Roark shrugs. “Tacos are always easy. How does that sound with all of the fixings before everyone gets dressed? I’m pretty sure I have chicken and steak prepped,” he adds.
“God, is it wrong that I’ll miss not living here for the food?” Atlas groans. “I can’t just pop over anymore when we’re on tour, Ror.”
Uncle Jordan snorts as Roark leaves the room. “The three of you are terrible cooks. Layla makes lovely muffins, though.” I glance up to see her smirk, and I decide to ask if she actually can’t cook, or is faking it. I wouldn’t put it past my sister to starve them if Atlas and Mav are being assholes to her. “We’re expanding our concerts towards the north soon, but the next couple of months are dedicated to creating and recording new music.”
“There’s no reason for anyone to move after tonight either,” Turner says, shifting me so we’re both comfortable. “We may need to soundproof some of the rooms…”
“Link said he could do that for us,” I giggle, blushing. “The panic room is done, the basement is finished, the house is really becoming our own.”
“And our bed is being delivered next week,” Derek cheers, fist pumping the air.
Grinning, I nod. I’m glad I decided to take Greg up on ordering our custom bed. He doesn’t know I’m going to have Orion wire him money once I’m able to, but he’ll have to deal with it.
Uncle Jordan clears his throat, smirking. “I’m looking forward to no longer hearing sex noises coming from upstairs… or the basement.”
I press my lips together in mirth. “I’m so damn happy we can fully live life after tonight. It’s been a really rough few months, and I’m really happy we’ve all been together to get through it. Y’all are my family,” I tell them with a shrug, blinking hard as I start to feel emotional. Swallowing hard, I mutter, “Motherfucking hormones.”
Layla laughs, shaking her head. “I love you, Lennon. Never change. I’m going to need a wing woman when you’re not pregnant anymore, you in?”
Mav and Atlas exchange worried glances that I pretend not to see. “Yes! I’m so down. I have to see if they have singles mixers here too. I’ll ask Tori and Tesa,” I tell her. Layla winks at me, and I see nothing wrong with showing my best guy friends what they may be missing out on.
They’re being dumb as hell right now.
I’m grateful for the normalcy, because while I can hope for the best as much as I want, shit could still go to hell today. The thought has my stomach hurting, or so I think it’s my stomach. Feeling an odd thump, I jump, looking down.
“What the…” I whisper. I’ve been loving the little whisper of movements I’ve been feeling the last few weeks, but a kick is unexpected. Rubbing my stomach, I smile. “Hey baby… it’s Mommy. I promise we’ll be fine.”
Turner presses a kiss to my shoulder and I turn, eyes still on my stomach. “I felt a kick,” I tell him, and I can feel his lips curl into a smile.
“I read that was normal,” says Mav, and it’s so unexpected, I glance over. Shrugging, he looks sheepish. “My best friend is having a baby, so I’ve been reading up on them. I refuse to worry I’m going to drop it. I want to babysit, and do all of the uncle-like shit you do with kids.”
Uncle Jordan smiles, but it’s filled with regret. “I’m sure you’ll get to do all of that. I will never get over the fact that I was robbed of my time with you, Lennon,” he tells me. “James has been calling me to complain that all of his assets but one credit card are still frozen. Funny enough, the authorities in New York have no idea why he doesn’t have access. It’s a mystery!”
Uncle Jordan’s face is comical as his eyes widen and I laugh. “Oh that’s so sad,” I sputter. “I kind of feel like karma thy name is Uncle Jordan.”
“Dinner is ready!” Roark yells and I sigh happily. I’m seriously starving.
Standing, I walk with everyone to the kitchen. Lips parting in surprise, Ror has set up a giant tray of tacos in the shape of a heart, with sauces, queso, and chips spread over the giant island. He spread aluminum foil over the entire counter space, and has a giant grin on his face.
Semi-prepped my ass.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” they all yell and I swear my cheeks hurt with how much I’m smiling.
“Guys, this is amazing,” I sigh, turning and accepting the group hug waiting for me.
“Roark,” I begin to say, eyes widening as I move in his direction and see him looking at something in his hand. “What—”
“Do you remember what I told you months ago on our bus?” he asks, not looking at me.
Turner moves to stand next to him, smirking as he looks down at what Roark has in his hand. “You told me you’d feed and caffeinate me for the rest of my life,” I remember, my lips twitching at the memory. “Roark, you’ve always taken really good fucking care of me, baby.”
