Chapter 10
Janey
The room is still dark when my eyes snap open.
For one disorienting second, I don’t know where I am.
Then I feel the weight of two large, solid male bodies bracketing mine.
Mason’s arm is draped over my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck.
Brookes lies facing me, one of his hands resting possessively on my hip even in sleep.
Still bleary and confused from my dream, it feels too much. Too much closeness. Too much safety. Too much them.
And I feel terrible. My stomach roils violently.
I barely manage to slip out from between them without waking them. My bare feet hit the cold floor as I stumble toward the bathroom, one hand clamped over my mouth. The moment I drop to my knees in front of the toilet, my body revolts.
Bitter acid burns my throat, and dry heaves feel like they’re tearing me apart from the inside. Wave after wave hits me until tears are streaming down my face and I’m sobbing between each painful contraction.
I feel disgusting. Weak. Overwhelmed.
My body doesn’t feel like my own. My usual calm and in-control sense of self has left the building as everything crashes down on me at once: the pregnancy, the two men sleeping in my bed, the complete upheaval of my carefully planned life, the hormones raging through my system like wildfire.
I can’t think straight, and I can’t stop crying.
There’s a soft knock on the bathroom door.
“Janey?” Brookes’s voice is low and concerned, even through the barrier between us.
I try to answer, but another dry heave cuts me off. I manage a broken, “Come in,” before my forehead drops to rest on my arm.
The door opens slowly. Brookes enters first, still in his boxers, carrying a glass of water. Mason is right behind him, shirtless, holding a plate with a small stack of saltine crackers he must have found in my pantry.
I’m too sick to feel embarrassed about them seeing me naked, sweaty, and crying on the bathroom floor with my face over the toilet.
Brookes crouches beside me immediately. “Easy, darlin’. Breathe through it.” He sets the glass down and grabs a clean washcloth from the shelf, wetting it with tepid water before gently placing it on the back of my neck. The coolness brings a small measure of relief.
Mason kneels on my other side and sets the plate of crackers on the vanity. His big, warm hand rubs slow circles between my shoulder blades.
“You’re okay,” Mason murmurs, voice rough with sleep and worry. “We’ve got you.”
Another sob escapes me. Their tenderness somehow makes it worse. I’m not okay. Not at all. And the truth is, I’m alone in this. Nobody’s got me.
Every time they show me what good men they are, it makes it harder. It makes me yearn for things I’m terrified to want.
“I hate this,” I whisper, voice cracking. “I feel so awful… and I can’t stop crying. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
Brookes’s hand moves to my lower back. “Hormones are a bitch, sweetheart. Our cousin Jemma was sick as a dog with her first. Could barely keep anything down for weeks.”
Mason nods. “She figured out a few things that helped. Cool ginger tea in the morning through a straw before you even sit up. Those little sea-sickness bands on your wrists. Eating a couple of crackers before your feet hit the floor. She swore by protein snacks at night, too.”
Brookes gently wipes my face with the cool cloth. “We’ll get whatever you need. Just tell us.”
I cry harder with ugly, hiccupping sobs that make my whole body shake. Brookes shifts closer and carefully pulls me back against his chest, unbothered that I’m a mess. “I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper against Brookes’s skin. “I’m so tired… and scared… and I feel like I’m drowning.”
“You’re not drowning,” Mason says firmly. “You’ve got two big, stubborn cowboys who aren’t going anywhere. We’re in this with you, Janey. All the way.”
Brookes presses a soft kiss to my temple. “One day at a time. Right now, you need to rest. Have you thought about what we said? Could you take some time off work? Give yourself a chance to breathe.”
I let out a shaky breath and nod slowly.
They’re right.
I’ve been trying to pretend everything is normal, but it isn’t.
Maybe it’s time I accept that I can’t handle this upheaval, and I need some time to deal with my emotions away from everyday life.
By the time the worst of the nausea finally passes, and I’m sipping small mouthfuls of water, the decision feels clear.
“I’m going to call my boss today,” I say quietly. “I have two weeks of vacation saved up. I think… I need to take it now.”
Mason’s hand strokes gently over my hair. “Good girl. That’s a smart move.”
Brookes nods in agreement. “And you’ll come stay with us?”
I look between them—these two strong, patient men crouched on my bathroom floor at five a.m., caring for me like I’m already their responsibility. It terrifies me how easy it is and how good they make me feel.
For the first time since those two pink lines appeared, the days ahead don’t feel muddled and confused. I can do this. I can take some time out to decide.
One night can turn into two weeks.
I know I’m deferring the inevitable. I know I’m using their welcoming offer to put off the truth that I’m going to have to face at some point.
But I need this now. I need them to help me keep myself together.
Who knows what’ll happen after that?