Page 65 of Switchin' Lanes

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Diesel

After breakfast,we leave to go visit Wren and Sketch. Tink and Belle in my car with me while Hollywood follows us on his motorcycle. At the hospital, Tink manages to sneak Belle in with her and we go straight for Wren’s room. Luckily, Sketch texted me Wren’s room number so we didn’t have to ask a nurse.

“Knock, knock,” I say as we walk in.

“Hey! Y’all made it,” Sketch greets us. “Come on in. Come meet our daughter, Fallon.”

“Oh my God! Is that a puppy?” Wren whisper shouts at Tink.

Tink giggles. “It is. Hollywood and Diesel surprised me with her for my birthday.”

“I’m a terrible friend. I’m so sorry I missed your birthday.” Wren pouts.

“You arenota terrible friend and don’t you dare apologize. You were busy bringing this beautiful angel baby into the world.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Wren smiles.

“Is that a serious question?” Tink sets Belle by Wren’s feet, then steps into the bathroom to wash her hands. She carefully takes Fallon out of Wren’s arms and her face softens. “Oh, Wren. She’s perfect. How did labor go?”

“It went well. The nurses were great! I was in labor for around nine hours and she was born at three-twenty-two this morning,” Wren tells her.

“A few hours sooner and we would be sharing a birthday,” Tink coos at Fallon.

Hollywood moves to her side. “Hi, Fallon. I’m your uncle H.”

“Do you want to hold her,” Tink asks Hollywood.

“Oh, no. She’s too small.” He takes a step back.

“Don’t be such a chicken shit, Hollywood,” Wren says to him. Sketch and I laugh. Hollywood looks from Wren to Fallon.

“Alright, I’ll hold her.” Tink hands Fallon to Hollywood. She coos at him and that’s when his heart melts for her. By the look on his face, this little girl has her uncle H wrapped around her tiny little finger. Tink gushes over Fallon, talking to her as she coos.

It’s in this moment, I see my forever with these two. I can see Tink with a round, swollen belly, carrying mine or Hollywood’s baby. It won’t matter who the biological dad is, because we’ll both be the baby’s dad. I take a moment to snap a picture of the three of them with my phone.

“You don’t look like a big, scary biker when you’re holding such a tiny pink bundle.” Tink laughs.

“My little, innocent Savage nieces and nephews will never see my scary side unless it’s toward someone who fucks with them,” Hollywood tells her.

Wren scoots over in her bed and pats the spot next to her. “Tink, come sit and talk to me.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing Mila’s name flash across the screen.

“I gotta take this. I’ll be right back.” I step out of the room and answer my phone. “What’s up?”

“Are you in a bad mood,” Mila asks.

“No, why? What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something?”

“Mila, you’re my little sister. I’m not stupid.”

“Okay,” she draws out. “Can I come visit for a month or two before I move to Baton Rouge?”

“Have you talked to Mom about this?”