CHAPTER THIRTY

MAV

At least the stopover the girls want is stateside, so we can put the rest of this insane trip behind us. The next morning, we're packed and on our way to the airport, with the little plane chartered once more. Our girls don't have to fly any other way now, and I'll be honest, taking Gage on a packed flight with strangers would probably be fatal for someone anyway.

Stella is definitely still nervous about flying, but as we clear take-off and she can remove her belt, she heads straight for the damn bathroom again, and I catch Gage's arm as he stands up to march after her, like he did last time.

"Hold up, you gotta rein in your shit, because you're edgy as fuck right now. What's going on with you?"

He points in the direction of the closed bathroom door, which by the way, we've been warned has to stay in place this time, or they won't let us book one of their damn planes again.

"She's probably throwing up, man. Get your head out of your ass, and remember she's pregnant, so maybe she's got that morning sickness thing already. Lucy had it briefly, remember?"

"Lucy still bloody has it," she suddenly declares, clapping a hand over her mouth, a panicked look in her eyes. Shit. Two puking ladies, and one bathroom. This shit isn't going to work, right?

The stewardess brings Lucy one of those bags to puke in, and just in time, but then Sebastian curses and calls out for one too. What the fuck?

"He can't be pregnant too, right?" Gage asks, rolling his eyes at himself. "I mean, I know he can't be, but why would he be sick too?"

I have no fucking idea, but I'm starting to feel a bit green myself. It's pretty unpleasant to have to hear people throwing up, and I want to go look after Lucy, but now I'm wondering if there's another reason for this.

"They all had the eggs for breakfast, right?" Gage nods, rubbing the back of his neck. We'd both had continental breakfasts, because the French are known for their fucking croissants, and I won't apologise for liking them.

"Maybe we had a lucky escape. Can you go check on Lucy and Pretty Boy, while I check on Stella?"

Gage nods, and actually does as I asked him, without complaint, so I head for the bathroom door, tapping on it lightly.

"Won't… be long…" Stella gasps out and I check the handle, finding the door unlocked. I pull it open a few inches.

"You okay, baby? Anything I can bring you? Some water?" She shudders, lifting shaky hands to her face.

"Morning sickness so fast? My god, am I going to feel like this for months?"

I grab a small towel and wet it at the faucet, dropping on my knees beside her, carefully dabbing the wet cloth against her face. I have no idea if this fucking helps, but I also have no idea what else to do.

"Not sure it is morning sickness, babe. Lucy and Pretty Boy are both chucking up too."

She groans, her eyes drifting closed as she rests a hand over her flat stomach.

"I bet it was those fucking eggs. I said they tasted funny, but the other two said they seemed fine. Guess they fucking weren't, and when I feel better, they're getting one hell of an ‘I told you so'." At least she can joke, right?

"Yeah, you tell them, babe. You want that water now?" She nods carefully, catching my hand as I lower the towel.

"Thank you, Mav. It was sweet of you to come and check on me like this, especially if Lucy's ill too." I hand her the towel, and lift it to her face, so she'll keep cooling herself down with it.

"Gage has the other two under control. I'm just realizing what a dick move it was to leave him with two puking lovers, but whatever. I wanted to make sure you were okay because you were alone."

"You probably don't realize it, Mav, but you really are a catch, you know? Any woman would be lucky to have you." Any woman? Any woman would be lucky? What the fuck.

"Well, two women already have me, so everyone else is shit out of luck." I push up from the floor and lean down to kiss the top of Stella's head, then I go to fetch water for her and bring a pillow for her to sit on until she feels safe leaving the bathroom. Maybe I am a catch, but her words bother me somehow. It's almost like she's distancing herself from me, but that's crazy, right?

LUCY

It's the most miserable flight ever, with three of us feeling like crap, and poor Mav and Gage running from one of us to the other, to bring us things, and try to soothe us. We're convinced it was the eggs we had for breakfast, and right now if I even hear the word eggs once more, I'm going to be ill again.

I think the crew of the plane are as relieved as us once they get us off the plane, and the fresh air helps us as we head to our hotel in a car with the windows down. We're staying overnight in New York City, and then travelling the last few hours in another of these hired ‘town cars' Gage likes using.

"Once we're checked in, the three of you can go do whatever you need to do to feel better, and we'll sort out dinner. Well, if you even think you can eat by then," Gage says, grimacing a little at the thought. I know that Mav can be incredibly nurturing at moments like that, looking after one of us while we're ill, but Gage was amazing too. He was patient, calm, and supportive. Whatever doubts we have now and then, we definitely can't fault him for his caring side. In fact, it pretty much makes me swoon.

"I need a shower, for sure," Sebastian says, his head tipped back against the seat. The poor thing looks more wrung out than either of us women, and we're carrying babies. My god. Every time I remember that fact, it hits me hard, because there's literally a little person growing inside me right now, and they're planning to take up residence for nine months or so. Pity the little bugger didn't ask first, but then, I have to admit I'm starting to warm to the idea. Can it work, two of us pregnant with these three men? Maybe, given how they looked after us today, and so many times in the past. Can raising children in this bizarre dynamic work? I have no idea.

We reach the hotel, and I'm so relieved when we reach our suite, that I don't even really take in the luxury surroundings, just heading for the bedroom and falling face first onto the bed. I just need about a week's sleep, and I'll be fine again.

"Here, baby, just drink this before you sleep, so you don't get dehydrated." Mav helps me up, and tips a glass of water to my lips, once more taking care of me in the way I'd never imagined possible. The love I feel for this man is absolutely beyond my control, because logically, I know he shouldn't be the one, after how we started out, but I also know I've never loved like this, like I love all of them. This is what matters, right? This love.

STELLA

Morning sickness sucks. I have to keep reminding myself I wanted this, because right now misery is my middle name. Well, I wanted to be pregnant. Puking my guts out, not so much. Gage has been googling morning sickness, like he will find the mysterious cure, when women have been having babies and getting sick for over two billion years. I giggle as he says, "Oh interesting," because I'm fairly certain if they haven't found a way to get rid of it by now, they likely never will. Of course, there's things you can do to minimize it, but not get rid of it altogether.

"It says here morning sickness is a good thing. It's said that it is a sign of a healthy pregnancy."

That's great. Obviously, I want our baby to be healthy, but that does not stop me from running to the toilet constantly.

I sit on the couch with my legs over his lap, while Mav and Lucy sit on the chair in the corner, snuggled up. Sebastian went to take a shower a little while ago.

Gage holds his phone in one hand while he rubs my foot with his free one. "It says your feet will hurt. Do they hurt, baby?"

Lucy giggles from Mav's lap. "That's later, Gage. Her baby weighs less than an ounce."

He glances at me. "Do you want me to stop then?"

Shaking my head, I sigh with pleasure. "Never stop. Do it all night."

Gage chuckles softly. "I have other ideas for what I plan on doing to you all night, and it doesn't involve your feet."

Sebastian walks into the room wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, looking delicious with a few drops of water still on his skin. Sitting beside me, he leans down and kisses me on the top of my head. "Feeling better, baby?"

I turn to him, holding up the cracker in my hand. "Eating seems to help."

Gage pipes up. " Google says frequent small meals."

Lucy has her phone in her hand and is looking at something with obvious interest. "Stel, people are really excited for us to sign books at What the Smut , apparently all the copies they had have been pre-sold."

Social media is a double-edged sword. Of course, we want people to be interested in our books. However, I'm hoping there aren't people there when we get there. Not because I don't want to meet our readers, because I do. It just makes me really anxious. What if I say something wrong? Do I look stupid? Is my skirt tucked into my panties? I don't want to be like this, always so insecure, but it's how I'm wired. I see these authors on Facebook all the time, so put together, pretty, and the picture of confidence. I was never a cool kid, and I guess I never will be.