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“That is so not right! I demand you all only wear boxers from now on!”
I turn my head to Weston, asking him the same thing. “Weston? What about you?” Planting his hands on his hips, he finally lifts his eyes to meet mine. “I can cook.” “I thought you’d be able to.” “But you wouldn’t want to eat it.” I frown, not understanding what he’s trying to say.
“Bower brings me light, Weston gives me strength, and Reece stands as my shield. But you…” I say, my thumb stroking his cheek as I stare into his deep blue eyes. “You, Kingsley Voss, you’re my rock.” I watch his throat move as he swallows heavily. “I thought Steve was your rock?”
I just flashed Reece. My boyfriend.
“No, I can’t—I can’t survive this again!” “Can’t survive what again?” Weston asks, as he holds me to him. “I can’t survive another miscarriage!”
I feel like she would have called it something else, perhaps "I can't survive losing another baby"?
“It’s my dad, I better answer it.”
His dad definitely had something to do with it, wanting Reece out of the house at the exact moment the bomb goes off. If I wasn't already suspicious of him, that would have tipped me off.
I just hope that someone gives me their cock before I come around thin air. What a waste that would be when I have four virile men right here, fighting over who saw me first.
“Help! I’m being chased by a man with no sense of humor!” “You little—”
