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This is for all the queer people who have ever had to wait…wait to come out, wait to experiment, wait to leave, wait to lean in, heart in your throat, finally feeling brave enough to ask for what you want, what you’ve craved more than air. You’ve waited long enough.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing with Caleb right now, but this is not a game to me, Jake. You are not a game, and I don’t take what we have lightly.”
“But I won’t apologize for how I feel about him. Just like I won’t apologize to him for how I feel about you, Jake—”
“I’d like to know your demons better. Seems only fair when you already know mine.”
“Caleb Sanford, if you think I’m going to fuck you in the bathroom in exchange for personal details, you can think again. I said no PDA.” “Pity,” he replies. “‘Cause I’ve got a lot of sad stories to tell, Hurricane. Lots of deep aches that could use…massaging.”
“Such a good fucking girl,” he hums against my mouth, making my pussy clench around his fingers. “You want a deep, dark truth from me? Give me one of yours first. Show me what this body wants. Show me what she fucking craves. I want to feel you take your fucking rules and bend them ’til they break.”
“Oh, Cay…you can’t lose me,” I whisper. “And you won’t lose him for wanting me.” Slowly he nods, his breath warm against my pussy. “You won’t lose us,” I say again.
“How did you learn to play guitar?” He smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Church camp.” I blink. “Wait—seriously?” He nods. “Growing up in Minnesota, the only two places I was allowed to go outside of school were the hockey rink and church. Learning to play guitar got me out of doing far less enjoyable activities.” “Were you a choir boy?” I tease. He doesn’t return my smile. “Yes. And I did all the church plays, church bands, church youth groups. I spent every moment not in class or out on the ice being brainwashed into thinking everything I am, everything I want, everything
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“I hated myself for so fucking long,” he says, unveiling his own dark devil. “And then I hated them for putting the doubt in my head, for making me think I deserved to be hated.”
“You don’t have to hide with me, Cay. You don’t have to mask, and you don’t have to pretend. Want what you want. Want who you want. Do it out loud. I will never hold you back, I swear it.”
“I’m going to choke you with this dick and paint your pretty mouth with my cum. Would you like that, Hurricane?”
Okay, so…fun fact about me? I’m terrified of sharks. Like, don’t like to swim in the deep end of pools in case there’s sharks. Won’t go out deeper than knee-deep at the beach afraid of sharks. Saw Jaws exactly once and was scarred for life afraid of sharks. Do I still watch Shark Week? Yes. Religiously. You gotta know your enemy.
“I can’t do this—guys—I’m afraid of sharks.” Sully shrugs. “Who isn’t?” “Except the San Jose Sharks,” says Novy. “Who can collectively suck my sweaty balls.” “Yeah, fuck the Sharks,” chimes Morrow. “Fuck the Sharks,” they all cheer, clinking their beers.
Jake and Novy fought over the last jerky stick until it fell overboard, and now we’re rationing the last water bottle between six grown men. Our cooler is still half-full of beer, the bottles clinking as they float in the melted ice. If anything, we can use that as drinking water too. I don’t care that our grubby, fishy hands have been digging around in it all day. I am not dying out here.
“Man, on a scale of 1-10, how pissed do you think the girls are gonna be?” asks Novy. Sully and Morrow wear shared looks of horror at the thought. “Yeah, Rachel is gonna lose it,” says Jake. “Cay will be worse,” Mars mutters, his arms crossed, legs outstretched. He looks relaxed, like he’s actually enjoying this. “Oh, fuck…” Jake groans. “Yeah, he’ll probably punch us both for upsetting her. And then again for upsetting him.”
“At least all Doc and Sanny will do is shout a bit,” says Morrow. “Poppy is sure to cry, which is so much worse.” “Yeah, I can do crying babies all day,” adds Novy. “But there’s something about that woman’s tears. She just…fuck, she haunts me. It’s like she starts crying, and I feel like I could literally twist myself inside out to make it stop. I never want to see her unhappy. It’s like…a biological imperative or something.” “That biological imperative is called love, Nov,” Sully teases. “Fewer syllables to remember.”
“Shelby sometimes calls me nacho man,” Sully offers with a shrug. We all look at him. “Well…it was macho man,” he explains. No one asked. “Which somehow became macho nacho man…which just became—” “Nacho man,” Morrow says for him. “Yeah, we get it.”
“Touch me again, and I’ll tell them about the cat,” I say, raising an imperious brow. Novy’s chest rises on a huff as he glares at me. “You wouldn’t.” “What about the cat?” calls Jake from the front seat. “Wait, you mean Princess?” says Morrow, looking to Nov. “What happened? What did I miss?” Novy and I have our stare-off while the guys all push me to spill the beans. Slowly, Novy turns and calls out, “The next person to make fun of Langers for being called ‘puppy’ will answer to me.” I smirk. That’s right, he knows I can ruin him.
You did this to me. You wormed your way inside. Now you’re in me, and you’re part of me, and I can’t breathe—I can’t breathe for loving you, Ryan. And now you have to let me die first, and I need you to swear it. Swear, Ryan.” “I swear,” I say gently, dropping my hand to my side. “Baby, I swear. You can go first, okay? Alice Cooper and his wife have a death pact. We can make one too. We’ll be in our 80s—well, that would make you like 90, right? But we’ll take the grandkids sledding. You’ll be in front on the toboggan, and we’ll crash ourselves into a tree, okay? You’ll feel the impact first.
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“You smell so bad that I threw up in my mouth a little as you were hugging me just now.”
“Ryan Shark Attack Langley—” “The Shark Whisperer!”
That is a ten-foot drop!” I wave dramatically out at the railing. She huffs. “It’s six feet if it’s an inch.” “Tess—” “And by the time you dangle over the ledge, you’ll practically have your feet on the ground.” My eyes are wide as I stare at her. “I’ve changed my mind,” I say, shaking my head. “I want the opposite of whatever a marriage is. I want unmarriage.” She gasps. “Ryan Scott Langley, are you threatening me with the ‘D’ word while I’m wearing a wedding dress?” “No. I was very careful. That is a word that will never pass my lips—” “Oh, but ‘unmarriage’ is acceptable?” “Wait—when did you
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why wouldn’t scuba diving maintenance workers clean my honeymoon villa while I’m trying to get balls-deep inside my wife? After the chaos of this weekend, I don’t know why I didn’t just assume there would definitely be scuba divers watching us fuck through the glass.
There’s nothing more humbling than lying naked on a piece of wax paper with your feet braced in cold, plastic stirrups while a man who is not your husband puts his face near your exposed vagina and asks you about your bodily functions.
under no circumstances will you send her to a religious school. Promise me, Ryan. No plaid skirts and no Hail Mary’s.”
Cassie isn’t allowed to babysit her ever. Poseidon would make a better babysitter than your sister.”
“Oh, fuck that,” Novy mutters, rage lacing his words. “Here, hold this—” He shoves the stuffed animal at Morrow and stalks off.
“Either you can go get the baby, and not get arrested because you work here, or I’ll do it and definitely get arrested,” he shouts. “I’m fine with either outcome. But someone is getting my friend his baby, Tanya. I assume we’re flipping for it?” The asshole actually reaches into his pocket and fishes out a quarter. The nurse huffs a response before stalking off.
“I’m gonna be bailing you out of jail tonight, aren’t I?” Morrow says with a shake of his head. “Hey, anything for my new niece,” Novy says with a shrug. “We Rays gotta stick together, right? Especially when it comes to the baby Rays.”
I lean back and let her recline on my chest. Her little naked body feels so weak and frail against mine. Her bones are so tiny, her knees curled up and her arms tucked under her tummy. She’s no bigger than a chicken. I’m terrified I’ll break her. Why are babies so delicate?
Mars climbs out of the front seat and slings the strap of Rachel’s hospital go-bag over his shoulder. Of course, he’s being Mr. Cool Calm and Collected about all this. I bet he was looking for any reason to leave his IKEA birthday party early. The imminent arrival of Little Baby Flörp is an ironclad excuse.
Alright, so am I being a little overly dramatic right now? Yes, obviously. But this is my first kid. I’m sure when we’re on number four, she’ll go into labor while we’re at a game, drive herself to the hospital, and just call us when it’s over. But in this moment? With this baby? Yeah, I couldn’t find my chill right now if I was Dora the Freaking Explorer.
“You’re just cute when you’re nervous.” His glare deepens as he raises a subconscious hand, flattening his curls. I snort and he drops his hand again. “You wanna be in this hospital for real?” he jabs at me. “Because we can make that happen.” I laugh. This is helping, actually. It’s distracting me. “I’m up for a fun little case of foreign object removal,” I tease. “So long as you’re the foreign object.”
“It’s a pernicious case of polyamory, Caitlin,” Caleb droles. “Careful, it’s catching.”
the cute blondes always go for him. Since we took our relationship public two years ago, fans even do polls and shit, like ‘fuck, marry, kill’ and ‘who would you choose’? I’m competitive enough to let it rankle me knowing just how many people wanna fuck my Cay, marry Mars, and kill me.
“I can’t take much more of this,” she warns. “Which is why you need to rest,” Caleb presses. “Not this,” she says, her hand still clutching her belly. “This. You. All three of you.” “What did we do?” I say for all three of us. “You’ve all been freaked out since we left IKEA,” she groans, rolling to her back. “You’re looking at me like I’m a monkey in a zoo and treating me like a bomb you’re trying to diffuse without instructions, all calling me ‘Rachel’ like we’re co-workers. It’s driving me fucking crazy.” “Well…we are co-workers,” I say with a smirk. Her head rolls on the pillow to glare at
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“I’m not made of glass and I’m not dying,” she says, glancing between us. “The whimpers of pain you hear are just weakness leaving my body. I was made to fucking do this. I’ve carried this baby for nine months. I’ve kept him safe. I will see us both to this finish line, so help me god. Just stop running after us. Run with us.”
You know what’s worse than watching your wife writhe in labor for twelve hours? Watching a nervous surgical intern insert a three-inch long, 18-gauge needle into her spine. But Rach just had to let him do it because ‘everyone has to start somewhere.’
“Yep, we came for the big show,” Dad says, his hands in his pockets. He’s always been a man of few words. “Yeah, except the ‘big show’ is Rachel’s legs spread in the air, pushing a baby the size of a turkey out of her body. I think you’ll have more fun watching a different show on the TV at your hotel.”
“We all agreed that bio dad gets to name the baby. Rachel has veto power if she really hates it, but I doubt any of us will pick something truly horrendous like Flörp Flörpington,” I add with a little laugh.
Mom blinks, glancing in confusion from me to Dad. “You don’t know who the father is?” “I mean, we’ve narrowed it down to three suspects,” I reply with another forced laugh. But I’m really not appreciating their tone right now…or the way they’re looking at me. “My guess is Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the candlestick.”
“Only it may be your goalie’s kid,” says Dad with a frown. I round on him again. We’re equally matched in height, but I’ve got over fifty pounds of muscle on him. He may swing a few golf clubs every month, but I’m a starting NHL defenseman. I will pound him into this mauve wall right against that stupid fucking picture of sleeping bunnies in a basket. “My goalie has a fucking name, and I wanna hear you to say it.”
I’m legally married to Cay, yes. But I am married in every way that matters to Mars and Rachel too. I love them all, and we’re a family—” “Not according to the state of Florida,” Dad mutters. All I see is red. Someone better be ready to call security. Mom
“Jake—just listen to yourself for a minute, honey. You’re talking about DNA tests and adopting a child that may not even be yours—” “He is mine,” I bellow.
“Hi, Mars,” Mom says with a forced smile. Dad just stands behind her, stony faced. “Can you give us a minute, dear? This is a family matter.” “Which is why I’m here,” Mars replies, his tone icy. “Protecting my family.” “We need to speak to our son alone,” says Dad. “No.” One word, spoken so powerfully. It echoes in the space between us, scaring the bunnies in the basket. Not looking at me, Mars takes my hand.
“Yes, this is a place of birth and healing,” Mars counters. “This is a sacred space, and you’re both casting a gloom with this unnecessary scene.” Mom begins to blub in earnest now. “Unnecessary—” “You don’t approve of Jake’s choices,” he says over her. “You certainly don’t approve of me. You’ve made that abundantly clear. You’ve been making it clear from the moment we met. But, unlike my husband, I neither seek nor need your approval.”
“We just want what’s best for him,” Mom says, wiping away her tears. “And is Jake not the best judge of that?” Mars counters. “He’s impressionable,” says Dad. “He’s open-minded and highly empathetic,” Mars corrects. “That is not being impressionable. That’s being willing and able to grow, learn, and change.”
“What if you’re the ‘bio dad’ as Jake so flippantly puts it?” he asks, mocking me by using air quotes. “Where does that leave our Jake?” “Standing by my side,” Mars replies solemnly. “Showing me every day how to be the father our child deserves. A father who leads with kindness and honesty. A father who is loyal. A father willing to admit when he’s wrong and be willing to change.”
“Your son is the kindest and best man I have ever known,” Mars goes on, determined to shred me into fucking pieces. “I am honored to share this life with him. It was wrong of you to come in this moment and rob him of his joy. You are wrong.”
he breathes with me, centering me before I can spiral the fuck out and fall the fuck apart. That’s what Mars does for me—he holds me together. The others can’t do it. Only Mars. I close my eyes, knowing Caleb probably sent him out here. Our broody Finn is the only one who can quiet all the shit spinning in my head. They sent me who I needed most in this moment. Because, unlike my parents, they understand me. They respect me. They love me.
