I splash some water on my face and flush the empty toilet so I don’t seem like a complete fraud before crawling back into bed and Bram presses play.
“Everything okay?” Bram asks.
I’m saved from having to answer as Ethan comes into the bedroom, taking off all his clothes and stripping down into his underwear.
I’ve trained him well.
Outside clothes and inside clothes are a real fucking thing, and apparently none of these men got that memo until now. It’s not even just about dirt, it’s also about all the smells that come along with being out and about all day.
“Oh God, she’s not going to pick Raymond, is she?”
“What’s wrong with Raymond?” Bram asks again.
“He doesn’t want kids,” he repeats my earlier sentiment.
“He’s twenty-four. Of course he doesn’t want kids. I didn’t want kids at twenty-four either. Hell, I’m twenty-seven and just now warming up to the idea of having a needy little demon running my life.”
Ethan glances at me, and the ever observant Bram notices.
“What is up with you two? It’s just a reality TV show.”
No, it’s just our entire life that you just admitted you're not sure that you want. It has me wanting to wait longer to break the news. Will he be upset? Or angry? I hate lying to Bram, but I’ll hate his disappointment even more.
“Yeah, a show you’ve watched three episodes of already,” Ethan says.
I hear the security alarm beep that Max has come home, and just like Ethan, he comes upstairs and undresses and lies in the bed, he and Bram on opposite sides.
“What’s this?” Max asks.
“Scent Your Match,” I say.
“I’ve heard about this show. Is it any good?”
“No,” Bram says, and I poke his chest. “Fine. It’s not horrible,” he says.
I’m trying to let this disappointed feeling dissipate, but it’s hard. Ethan’s hand is firmly on my thigh for comfort as we all watch the show. I look around at all of them. Never did I think we would all be lying on Bram’s bed watching a stupid reality TV show.
If we’ve overcome everything else, we’ll get through this too.
But maybe I will keep it a secret for just a little longer…
I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart beating out of my chest.
It’s just a dream, Sloane,I remind myself.
Bram is in the other room. You’re between Max and Ethan.
You’re okay. They’re okay.
But I can’t curb my panic. Instead, I’m crawling out of the bed and making my way into Max’s closet. It’s a mess, and on a normal day I’d be disturbed, but right now, I sit in a pile of his clothes and clutch my phone against my chest.
I should tell them I’m having trouble sleeping. I should tell them about the baby.
My phone vibrates in my hands, and I take a deep breath as I pull back and look at the notification. It’s a stream of comments talking about how I’m stringing Bram and Max along and I’m the reason Bram isn’t back on the ice yet.
She’s nothing but a typical Omega tease.
She doesn’t deserve them. Leave some for the rest of us.
