Page 26 of It Must Be Fate

“Sorry to interrupt your domestic,” Phoenix says, grabbing the phone from my hand. “But hi, wild girl.” On screen, Six sits up straighter, a delighted smile taking over her face. She waves at the camera. “Miss you,” he adds.

“Miss you too!”

“You should have told me, Rogue.”

I yank the phone back from Phoenix. “I know. Don’t take them down.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“I don’t want to have to punish you when I come home. I’m not saying any more than that in front of an audience.”

She flushes a pretty scarlet color and remains silent.

“You guys should actually go play poker now,” Nera suggests.

“Hi, baby,” Tristan says, pushing to the front so he can speak close to the phone.

“Hi, Tris,” she calls back, making a heart sign with her hands.

“We’re going, we’re going,” I answer her, before adding, “Oh, and Thayer?”

The woman in question was about to take a bite of ice cream when I call her name. Her spoon pauses halfway to her mouth and she looks up. “Yes?”

“Procreating with Rhys? You’re a brave woman,” I drawl. “Congratulations.”

The other girls freeze. Three pairs of eyes slide slowly towards her.

“What is he talking about?” Bellamy questions.

“Are you..?” Sixtine asks.

“Is he— Are you fucking serious?” Nera jumps in.

“I hadn’t gotten around to telling the girls yet,” she explains sheepishly. “But yes. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

Shrieks of joy, happy and shrill enough to pierce the sound barrier, erupt before she’s even finished her sentence.

Bellamy and Nera round the counter as Six jumps on Thayer, and the three of them embrace her in a massive group hug, laughing, crying, screaming, and placing hands on her stomach as the joy of the news cancels everything else out.

And the boys watch through the camera, silent and entirely focused, mesmerized by the sight of our girls celebrating.

I knew the cameras were a good idea.

***

Chapter Eight

Phoenix

Tristan walks into Rogue’s game room where we’re playingCall of Duty. He’s rubbing his hands together and smirking, looking like the very definition of the cat who got the cream.

“What’s that look for?” Rhys asks, glancing away from the screen for a second and getting himself killed by me in the process. “Twat,” he says, glaring my way.

“Skill issue,” I retort with a yawn.

“That look isdelight,” Tristan answers. “Delight that I get to tell you this in person and see your reactions live. Nera’s pregnant. I’m going to be a dad.”

“Fucker,” Rhys accuses, sitting up. “How dare you steal my thunder!”

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