“Asshole,” they say in unison.
They’ve been married for only half a year, and they already think the same. One-track dastardly dirty mind, these two.
Kaye preens, which means she’ll only tease me some more. “I should’ve known I’d end up with the older, even grumpier version of you.”
“There’s still time to trade up,” I offer, leaning forward between their seats. “I’ve got better stamina and worse trauma. Makes things much more interesting.”
“Yeah,” she says, snorting a laugh. “But Damon’s got a bigger—”
“Nope!” I cut in, slapping the back of her seat. “We’re done. This conversation’s in a ditch, and I’m lying in it.”
They laugh while I flop back onto my seat, wishing I didn’t rise to her bait.
Fuck.Kill me. Because they’re back to flirting with each other, withveryvivid details of their raunchy night. So I just look outta the window.
Outside, the world blurs by. Gray winter sky, stretches of forest. We still have hours until we reach the coast where this science ship’s docked.
When we take a detour to grab burgers and eat on the road, it doesn’t take long until I’m stuffing my face with a tower of meat between buns. Kaye’s eating a deep-fried chocolate bar and a mushroom burger with extra pickles. Criminal combo. More horrifying than my future.
Despite that disgusting order, Damon’s glancing at her like he wants to fuck her through the windshield.
I frown at them, hearing her say she wascravingthat gross food. And then I pick up on how her breaths sound, shorter and shallower.
I point at her with a limp fry. “Gross food. Short breaths. Explain yourself, Kaye.”
Damon doesn’t even look at me. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting.” I frown. “Because I’m in a moving sex den, and you’re both acting like I’m too stupid to notice the extra passenger sitting in her uterus.”
Kaye’s eyes go up. “Stan—”
“You’re pregnant!” I jab the fry toward her belly. “Don’t lie. I’ve read enough mpreg to recognize the signs.”
Damon exhales through his nose, all uppity irritation. “We weren’t hiding it.”
“Then why amIfinding out between bites of my depression burger?!” I yell.
Kaye wipes her mouth, trying not to smile. “We wanted to wait a little.”
“For what? A gender reveal where Damon buys a skyscraper and paints it blue?” I throw my hands up. “You two drop every detail of your sex life on me, butthisis what you hold back?”
Damon mutters, “We’re not even through the first trimester.”
“That’s not the point!” I cry, burger held high, fist in the air. “I should’ve known sooner! We’re family! And I’d be the perfect godfather!”
Kaye laughs. “You’d teach our baby how to snipe before they could walk.”
“That’s absolutely necessary in early childhood development,” I defend. “Gives the kid a head start.”
“I’m going to crash this car,” Damon mumbles.
“You better not!” I gasp. “Yourbaby’s in this car. So is their future favorite godfather.”
Kaye sighs. “Fine. You’re godfather material. Happy now?”
I’ve never wanted to cry over a title before, butgodfatherfeels a hell of a lot like I’ll always be part of this family.
“Ecstatic,” I correct, taking another bite of my burger. “I’m going to spoil this kid so hard they’ll have Stockholm syndrome.”
