Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

“ H ow much longer do we have to keep it a secret? It’s killing me on the inside,” Ethan complains.

“I know. Me too. It’s just, they’re getting along. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Ethan’s brows furrow as he leans his hip against the counter. I’m currently making Bram soup.

He’s not taking it well that he needs lots of rest this week, but it was doctor’s orders. He needs to rest for the next few weeks and do a few routine physicals. His bruising from getting hit on his left side is severe, but nothing was broken. As for his head injury, it was minor, but they did give us some anti-seizure medication, just in case. In all honesty, I’m slightly terrified that he will push himself too far to try and get back on the ice. Max is not lacing up, but he is going to practice, which is where he’s at now.

“Why would this ruin it? It’s the best news,” Ethan says, rubbing my flat stomach.

My heart does a little flutter, and I wonder if I’m not giving my Alphas enough credit.

“They just started getting along. I worry they might argue.”

“Over what?” Ethan says, totally not getting where I’m coming from.

“Whose it is.”

“Who gives a shit? It’s our baby,” Ethan says.

I stop stirring, and I hug him tightly. I’m not sure if it’s hormones, all the emotional turmoil, or just knowing I’m pregnant, but I’ve been a complete emotional mess. I cry, and Ethan sighs, holding me tight.

“You're making us all dads. To be honest, Sloane, if they fight about this, I may just fucking lose it.”

“Can we wait till Bram is back on his feet again?”

He sighs but nods.

“This is a big ask, sweetheart. I want to tell everyone.”

“It doesn’t feel right to tell anyone else before we tell the Alphas,” I say, going back to my soup.

“No, you’re right. I’ll try to be patient.”

“Do you want to take some soup to your dad?”

“I’d love that. Speaking of dads, are you talking to yours?” he asks.

I let out a frustrated noise. Of course, I saw all my parents when I was in the hospital, but all it led to was more resentment on my father’s side. He was blaming Bram and Max for what happened when it was no one’s fault. When I tried to explain that he was treating me like I was a child who needed coddling, I had to stand up for myself. We haven’t spoken since. Well, my father and I haven’t. I still text my moms and my Beta father every day.

I’m sure we’ll get this all resolved sooner than later, but right now I have too much on my plate to deal with my dad trying to dictate my life. I’m a woman, I’m a grown ass Omega who can decide her pack. Hell, I’m about to be a parent myself.

With shaky hands, I ladle the soup into a to-go container for Ethan to take to his foster dad and send him off with a kiss. If I thought my dad was acting poorly about this all now, he’s going to lose his mind when he finds out I got pregnant during my heat. Or before.

Max and I didn’t use any protection in the locker room, and who knows how good we were with the diaphragm during my heat? It was a risk I knew I was taking during my heat. Ethan and Bram also knew my birth control methods well before my heat. Max did after signing my heat contract, and I worry he might feel trapped.

He’s my scent match, which he had no control over. I was already with Bram, which he had no control over. And now we’re all going to have a baby together while we’re still in the midst of learning to be a pack.

Maybe there is some guilt lingering.

I should have sucked it up and went on the pill or the implant. But I don’t like the way they make me feel. I don’t feel like myself when I have other hormones running through me.

I glide my hand over my stomach. My baby wasn’t planned, but I can’t deny that I’m excited. Bram’s house is large, and there’s a perfect room for a nursery right next to the primary bedroom.

All of the guys can still have their own rooms. I don’t really need my own space…

That’s a lie—I totally do.

Thankfully, the men I chose aren’t messy, especially Bram. But it is taking some training on my part to show them how I like things organized.

The soup tastes great, and I turn off all the burners and ladle up a bowl before bringing it upstairs to Bram.

He looks pissed off as he leans against the headboard of his bed with crossed arms and watches TV. If there’s something I’ve learned about Bram, it’s that he doesn’t like to sit still. I honestly can’t relate.

Watching TV and being doted on all day sounds like the dream.

I set up his tray on the nightstand. His water cup is still full.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy,” I say, glancing at the TV. “No wonder you’re cranky. You need to put something good on TV.”

“This is fine.”

“You’re watching a baby seal get eaten by a killer whale. No, you need something juicy.”

“Juicy?” he says with an arch of a brow.

I try not to look at the bruised side of him because it makes me so upset.

“Yeah, like trashy shows. They’re the best.”

“I just want to go back to work,” he grumbles.

“I know you do, but hey, you get me all to yourself for a few weeks. That’s not so bad?”

“Come here. Put a stupid fucking show on. Thank you for the soup.”

“You’re welcome. And don’t get any on the sheets, or we’ll have to wash everything,” I say, snuggling up into the bed until I find a good show. “Oh yeah, you’re going to love this.”

“What is it?” he asks.

“So each season, there’s three Omegas, and they can only scent the Alphas and talk to them through a wall. They never see what they look like.”

“How is that entertaining?”

“Oh, just you wait.”

Three hours later

“No, she can’t pick Zach. He’s an asshole.”

“I know, right?”

“And why is Daniella literally leading every single Alpha on when she only likes Craig and Marcus?” he asks.

“And she keeps lying to the other girls about who she’s interested in,” I add in.

“This is a cluster fuck. Adrianna is the only one taking this seriously.”

“I know, right? Plus, she’s so pretty. I think she’s going to choose Adon, Eric, and Heath.”

“What about Raymond?” Bram asks, astonished, and I bite my lip.

“Raymond doesn’t want kids. Adrianna does, in fact. She and Adon would make the prettiest babies.”

“There’s nothing wrong with not wanting kids, though,” Bram says, and my heart sinks. I feel like I’m about to throw up.

I swallow thickly.

“Nothing’s wrong with that, it’s just they should be on the same page. You want kids, right?” I ask, my heart beating so fast it feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.

If he says no right now, I’m not sure what I’d do. Maybe lock myself in a closet and cry or something equally as dramatic.

I remember how Adrianna’s face fell when Raymond told her through the wall it wasn’t something he wanted. She really liked him. His scent was her favorite, but the moment he said that, she stopped booking pods with him.

“I want kids but probably not for a while,” he says, and I nod my head.

“I have to go to the bathroom real quick,” I say, and he furrows his brows at me as I skitter away off the bed like a scared animal.

As soon as I’ve shut the door, I splash some water on my face.

He didn’t say no. He just said not right now.

Well, he has about eightish months to adjust to the idea. Because there’s no turning back now.

It’s probably a conversation we should have had before. We talked so much about my heat and creating a pack that we didn’t get to the nitty gritty of how we saw our lives. I thought I had more time.

Story of my fucking life, right?

I thought I had more time, and now it’s planning my life around circumstance, which is not how I saw my life going. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. My pack is perfect, it’s who I need. But everything has felt so out of my control. Nothing has gone to plan, and I just don’t know how much more I can take.

I’m not a go with the flow Omega, as much as I may try to be.

When things are organized, life runs smoother, and as of late, it feels like everything is out of my control.

My fear of telling Bram gets even deeper. Fuck, I love him so much. But why am I so scared to tell him?

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.

I’m so over the hockey news being about this stupid redhead and this subpar team.

They’ll break up eventually.

No bond, no pack contract, no dice.

All the stupid comments from people who don’t know me have tears running down my eyes. Part of me wants to put them all in their place. But both Bram and Max’s PR firm have told them to keep their mouth shut until we sign a pack contract.

A pack contract that could take months from now because I can’t get a clear answer on if bonding while pregnant is safe or not. Not to mention, I don’t want them to feel what I’m going through right now. There’s no way I could burden someone with all of these feelings.

I could ask Piper, but what if she slips up and tells Owen before I get a chance to tell Max? Not that I think she’d do that, but it could happen. All the things I search online are conflicting, some saying it's safe to bond, others saying they miscarried after bonding, though none of those are on medical sites. It’s just too much information, and I don’t know what to do.

My hands shake as I put the phone down. I’m crippled by fear, and I don’t know what to do.

I’m scared I’m going to lose my pack because of some crazy accident. I’m afraid of losing them because the media is tearing us apart. I miss my family, and I don’t know how to make it better.

I’m fucking scared of everything.

So I do what I do best. I disassociate and crawl back into bed and act like I wasn’t crying in a closet.

It will be okay. I’ll be okay… I think.