The silence stretched.
Lock stepped closer. Just one step. Not crowding. Never crowding. “Kellan,” he said softly. “Hey. Talk to me.”
I took a breath. Then another.
“I took a test,” I said.
Lock stilled.
“A pregnancy test,” I added, because apparently I liked making things harder than necessary.
The room went very, very quiet.
His jaw flexed. His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out and didn’t trust himself to do it without permission.
“And?” he asked, voice rough.
I smiled. It came out shaky, but it was real. “It’s positive.”
For a heartbeat, Lock didn’t move.
Then his knees bent slightly, like the floor had shifted under him.
“Oh,” he whispered.
I laughed through the sudden sting in my eyes. “Yeah. That was my reaction too.”
He crossed the space between us in two long strides and stopped himself just short, hands fisted in my hoodie.
“Can I—” he asked, stopping. Like he wasn’t sure how to handle me now. Like he was anything but gentle… well except when I begged him not to be. Yum!
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Lock pulled me in carefully, like I was something fragile and priceless all at once. His arms wrapped around my back, solid and warm and sure. I pressed my face into his chest and breathed him in, the familiar scent anchoring me completely.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice thick. “I’ve got you.”
“I know,” I murmured. “That’s why I wasn’t as scared as I thought I’d be.”
He huffed out a quiet, broken laugh. “I’m terrified.”
I smiled against him. “Good. So am I.”
Lock pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. His eyes were bright, raw in a way I didn’t see often.
“We’re doing this,” he said. Not a question. A promise.
I nodded. “We are.”
His hand slid down, careful, reverent, resting over my stomach like he was afraid to breathe too hard.
“Our kid,” he whispered.
I covered his hand with my own.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Ours.”
