Page 330 of What We Brave
I hate them. I love them. I hate that they're right.
Why are they always right about this? It's infuriating. It's?—
Oh. God. Nevermind. It’s not infuriating. They can be as right as they want, as often as they want as long as I keep feeling like this.
They're relentless. Reid thrusting into me, Blake's fingers on my clit, both of them murmuring praise and encouragement. I'm oversensitized, overwhelmed, right on the edge of too much?—
And then I'm coming again.
Reid follows a second later, burying himself deep and groaning my name. I feel him pulse inside me, feel Blake's hand slow on my clit, feel everything go soft and warm and perfect.
We collapse in a tangle of limbs. Reid on one side, Blake on the other, me in the middle where I belong.
For a long moment, no one speaks. We just breathe.
Then Reid props himself up on one elbow and looks down at me.
"So," he says. "About that fourth baby."
I laugh. Can't help it. These two.These two.I just gave them multiple orgasms and they're already negotiating for more children. No shame. No subtlety. Just—hey, great sex, want to do pregnancy again?
Who does that?
My husbands. My husbands do that.
We've been having this conversation for months—them pushing, me deflecting. Not because I don't want another baby, but because three already feels like tempting fate. Three is chaos. Three is zone defense. Four would be... insanity.
Beautiful insanity. But still.
"You're relentless," I say.
"We're persuasive," Blake corrects. His hand slides down to rest on my stomach. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Relentless implies we're annoying. Persuasive implies we're charming."
"You're both."
Reid grins. "But you love us."
"Unfortunately."
I remember the pregnancy test with Caleb. All three of us crammed into this bathroom, hovering over a peed-on stick like it held the secrets of the universe. It was an accident—we hadn't planned, weren't ready, had barely figured out how to be three people in a relationship let alone three people raising a child.
But Reid's hand had been shaking. And Blake hadn't blinked in forty-five seconds. And when those two pink lines appeared, they'd both exhaled like they'd been holding their breath for years.
It was too soon. Wrong timing. Not the plan.
But I looked at their faces—the hope, the terror, the desperate wanting—and I knew. Even if we weren't ready, this was right. This was always going to be right.
"Okay," I say.
Reid blinks. "Okay?"
"Okay let's have another baby."
Silence.
