Authors: Liz Crowe
He shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Hannah muttered into his neck.
“Nothing,” he set the bowl down and turned, taking her in his arms. “You feel great,” he said, kissing her neck.
“Why, yes, thank you as a matter of fact I do feel great.” She stretched her arms up, and Ian made a grab for her exposed breast. “But…” she backed away, retying the robe. “You okay with…you know, last night? I don’t want there to be weirdness. You know? Jealous bullshit?”
“As long as we are all together, I don’t care who does what to whom.” He flipped the pancakes over, let them finish then slid them onto a plate.
Hannah grabbed one and bit into it. “Together? What do you mean? We are together, right?”
“I mean, together, literally. Like last night. It doesn’t feel like sneaking around and, as far as I’m concerned, it’s not. But if you feel a need to have him fuck you or whatever, and I’m not around, I may have an issue with that.”
“Fair. And same goes for you.”
“Fair.” He got out butter, syrup, and honey. “And we stick with the birth control plan, right?” he stared at her. Her gaze flitted away just enough to worry him. “I am dead serious about this Hannah. I’m glad we got the diaphragm thing sorted out for you. That takes a lot off my mind.”
“I know. It’s fine.” She poured a cup of coffee for Nick who’d just wandered into the room rubbing his face. Brutus led him to a seat, then made for his food bowl after stopping to let Hannah rub his ears. She set a cup down in front of Nick and let him pull her into his lap.
“You know what,” Nick muttered into her neck as he trailed a hand up her thigh. “You need to make a beer that tastes like this.” His hand went higher, disappearing under her robe.
Ian laughed and brought the plate of food to the table. “Dude, if I could make a beer that tasted like pussy I would be a zillionaire by now.” He put a plate in front of Nick and started eating. He was starved and watching the two of them cuddle was making him horny again.
“No, numb nuts. Like her—like, honey, and red colored, since you call her that, and maybe a little bitter.”
Hannah laughed and took her own seat, grabbing several pancakes for herself. “Bitter? Me? Nice.”
“Hmm. … you know,” Ian mumbled around a mouthful of food. “I don’t think a honey flavored common has ever been done.”
“No,” Hannah said, pouring half the bottle of syrup over her stack. “But how much honey would it take to really affect that kind of a brew?”
“I’m gonna look into it.” Ian declared. “I like it.”
“Honey red,” Nick said, as he ate. “For Hannah.”
Ian laughed and grabbed Nick’s hand, putting it to his lips. “No, for us. Like Hannah.”
She smacked his shoulder but smiled. And Ian got that weird, extra thump-thump in his chest when he looked at her, then at Nick.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nick woke with a jerk, reaching up to wipe his eyes attempting to dispel the blackness that would never be dispelled. The phone was clanging Alyssa’s ring tone. He reached for it, then remembered he was not at his house. Hannah stirred on his left. Ian sat up on his right, grabbed the thing and handed it to him.
“We’re headed to the hospital.” Gavin barked in his ear. “Something’s wrong. My mom’s here with the other boys.”
“Okay, we’re on our way.”
Hannah crawled out of bed, and he heard the shower start up.
“No time,” Nick barked, finding his jeans where he’d left them on the floor. They’d practically ripped each other’s clothes off, the almost six weeks between encounters too long for them all. But real life as a threesome had its challenges along with rewards and their schedules simply had not meshed along with Ian’s need to have Jamie out of the house when they stayed over. Alyssa had seemed okay the day before when he and Ian had dropped the boy off at his cousins’ new place. She’d done her usual grumbling about being as big as two houses and cursing the Donovan twin gene for her misery. A thrill of fear shot down his spine.
“I’m not going,” Hannah called out.
“The hell you aren’t,” Ian yelled as he jumped around trying to get his shoes on. “Let’s go.”
Nick sat, tried to get his bearings. Gavin’s words rolled around in his head. “C’mon man,” Ian dragged him up. “Time to go meet our nephews.”
“It’s too early. Her C-section isn’t scheduled for another three weeks.”
He felt Hannah’s hand on his shoulder. He gripped it like a lifeline, panic making his chest tighten. Brutus bumped his leg. “Yeah, boy, that’s right. Let’s go already!” Ian declared.
The ride to the hospital was longer than he thought possible. Thoughts of his sister rolled through his brain. She put on a huge show of being a super strong wonder woman but he knew deep down she was one hundred percent terrified by this whole radical turn of events in her life. He put his face against the cool car window. Hannah touched his shoulder. Ian grabbed his hand.
“It will be fine…I’m sure.” He nodded and ignored them. He still couldn’t believe his sister was having twins. Boys, fraternal like their father and uncle. Which explained the odd double heartbeat sounds he’d been getting not long after the wedding. While it was annoying beyond belief sometimes, hearing everything that no one else did, it came in handy at times. He’d touched her stomach that day, leaned in, and told her to have the doctor check for a second heartbeat. She’d laughed him off for about a minute, then called her doctor’s office and told them she was coming in right away.
He jumped out with his dog when he felt the car come to a halt, and made his frustrating slow way through the “where the hell is my sister” process. Finally he sensed Hannah by his side, talking calmly to the annoying staff. He followed her, the horrific and overwhelming smells of a busy hospital making him want to gag and run for the exit door. He gripped Hannah’s hand and let her guide him.
Finally, after an interminable elevator ride, they emerged onto a quieter floor. A different set of sensations hit his nose and ears. He gulped, held onto Brutus’ lead. Ian joined them, and they sat and waited. “What the hell is taking so long?” The man stood and paced, but Hannah stayed seated and quiet by his side.
“Gavin!” he heard Ian from what sounded like the end of a tunnel. He clenched his jaw. “Oh, God, man somebody throw the waiting room a bone, here.”
The silence that met his ears had Nick on his feet, stumbling towards Ian’s voice. “What is it? Ian?…” He felt Ian’s hand on his shoulder.
“She’s fine, Nick. C’mon, I’ll take you to her,” Gavin’s voice sounded raw.
Nick jerked out from under Ian’s hand. “Don’t hide anything from me damn you. What’s really going on?”
He heard it. Gavin’s heart—stuttering, then pounding. He lunged towards the man, using his base instincts to find him, grabbing at his throat in desperation, thinking to drag the words out of him. Ian yanked him back. “Relax,” he whispered, running a hand down Nick’s arm. “It’s fine.”
“Someone better talk to me.” He stood, fists clenched, in his eternal fucking darkness, needing them to stop hiding shit from him. Hannah slid under his arm.
“Gavin, Ian, tell him.”
He heard both men blow out an identical breath. He gripped Hannah into his side, her presence easing him somewhat.
“Okay, so, Alyssa had been having headaches for about a day or two but we figured it was just stress or boredom, or something.” Gavin began.
“Why didn’t she say anything when we….”
Hannah leaned into him. “Shh, let him finish,” her lips grazed his jaw. He nodded.
“Uh, yeah, so…she was up tonight, couldn’t sleep, as usual. I sat with her a while, then fell asleep on the couch. And, uh, shit,” Nick heard the man’s voice break. “I woke up at three, sat up, realizing she hadn’t come back into the family room. I assure you,” he cleared his throat and Nick realized he was either crying or on the verge of it. “The sight of my wife lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood is not something that will exit my consciousness anytime soon. I gotta go, I need to see the boys. Fill them in on the rest.”
Nick sensed him leave and turned to Ian. “The boys,” he said, breathless. “They’re okay?”
Hannah sat and watched the drama unfold between the men. She bit her lip, tried to keep the rubbery, plastic, gross hospital smells from making her puke. She wanted to keep standing between Gavin and Ian as they heard what was happening, but something made her walk away. She shivered in the super cooled obstetrics wing.
Hospitals were her least favorite place on the planet. And this whole thing with Alyssa and her kids was making her antsy. She wanted to leave, needed to stay. She stood, hands clenched together, and let the memories of the past few months wash over her.
Finally she put a hand on Ian’s arm. “I need to go. Do you want me to pick Jamie up and take him home or leave him with your mom and Tracey at Gavin’s?”
Ian glanced up at her, his green eyes snapping. He put his arm around her, which soothed her, but also made her want to run away screaming. “Sorry,” he said. “Stay. We’re gonna see the boys.”
“No, no,” she backed away, trying to keep from covering her mouth and running to the bathroom. Terror washed through her. The kitchen moment with Nick flooded her brain. She had not had her diaphragm, had taken it out after their three way before going to sleep. Holy fucking shit. “I’ve gotta go.”
Nick pulled his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes, talking as if he hadn’t heard her. She noted that his hands were shaking. “The boys are okay.“ he said. “Tyler is in the neonatal intensive care, but Lucas isn’t. They think Tyler will be fine in about forty-eight hours. He was smaller, his lungs were…not ready or whatever.”
“And Alyssa?” She wanted to go into their arms, to make them hold her and face the reality of what she suspected together, but she simply couldn’t. Ian would have a cow. And he’d be right to do so. She’d promised to take the birth control thing seriously. And she had not, for whatever reason, that night. She clenched her eyes shut.
“Stable, resting. It’s all okay. An emergency but that’s what decent hospitals are for.” Ian put his lips to her forehead. “Go home. Get some rest. Jamie’s fine where he is.”
“Call me?” She asked gulping back the saliva that flooded her mouth.
Nick yanked her close. “You’re sick,” he said, putting his lips to her cheek. “No fever though. What is it?” He held her arms, suddenly tense with worry.
She mentally cursed the man’s ability to sense she was not herself. “Flu, or something. Congrats, guys, really. But I should go and take my sick germs with me. I’ll…I’ll be around tomorrow.”
She avoided both Nick and Ian for a solid two weeks, needing some space to process what had happened that night, on the kitchen table, with Nick, no protection, their base need for each other obviously with a purpose. She forced herself to take a home pregnancy test and sat staring at the little plus sign for an hour, unbelieving, and terrified. Ian was going to shit bricks. What in the hell was she going to do? How could she tell them? She set her shoulders in the small bathroom of her shitty apartment as her mother hovered outside the door and resolved that she simply wouldn’t tell them. She would handle this whole thing on her own.
There was a big beer and food festival in Chicago that week so she packed up and left without seeing them. She managed to avoid phone calls and texts for the most part while there but then realizing it wasn’t fair to the men who kept trying to contact her, she told them both she was fine, busy, and for them to focus on Alyssa and the kids. While she puked every morning, and cried herself to sleep every night.
By the time she got home, Alyssa had been released with Lucas, the healthier of the baby boys. Hannah dropped her stuff at her apartment and agreed to meet Ian at Gavin’s house. She washed her face, hoped she didn’t look as pregnant as she felt, and drove to the outskirts of town; to the big house Alyssa and Gavin had bought, complete with a barn for horses and twenty acres to ride.
She sat a minute, gripping the steering wheel and steeling herself to see Ian. A knock on her window made her jump. Gavin was there, smiling at her. She sighed, and climbed out. “Hey, you all right?” he said. “I was just down at the barn, watching the boys get saddled up for their riding lesson. You look like shit, no offense. Chicago that rough?”