39. Brayden
brAYDEN
Iwoke up to someone violently shaking my entire soul out of my body.
“Brayden. Brayden! Wake the fuck up, man!” Gavin’s voice. Way too close. Way too loud. Way too… panicked.
My eyes snapped open to find him hovering over me like a distressed yeti. Sean and Griffin were already up and fully dressed, running around the room like we were being raided by the FBI.
“What?” I croaked, brain still in airplane mode. “What? I’m up. What’s happening?”
“Karla is in labor. Your baby is coming!” Gavin shoved my shoulder again for emphasis. “We gotta go. Like five-minutes-ago go. Myla got us on the next flight out.”
The words hit the air, but my brain was stuck in buffering mode.
“Excuse me?” I blinked. “What the fuck?”
I lunged for my phone on the nightstand, mashing the button with all the grace of a caffeinated squirrel.
Nothing.
Black screen.
“Fuck—my phone died.” I raked a clammy palm over my face, willing my brain to snap into action.
“There’s plenty of time to charge it later,” Gavin retorted, already throwing my jeans at my face. “Get up. Clothes on. Shoes. Toothbrush optional. We need to leave in five minutes.”
“She’s three weeks early!” My voice cracked. The panic hit my bloodstream like a shot of adrenaline mixed with bad vodka. “Three weeks! That’s—that’s not—that’s—”
“It’s going to be okay, man.” Gavin grabbed my shoulders and gave me a shake. “Let’s just get to her.”
Before I could respond, his phone rang again.
I ripped it straight out of his hand like a psycho.
“Karla?” I yelled.
There was static. Shuffling. Then—“No, this is your sister,” Myla said. “Hold on.”
More shuffling.
Then Karla’s voice—weak, breathy, shaking—hit my ear.
“Brayden?”
Every part of me froze.
“Baby, are you on your way to the airport?” She sounded too small.
“We’re—we’re just about to leave,” I stammered, hopping on one foot, trying to shove a leg into my jeans while clinging to the phone like it was oxygen.
“Hurry,” she whispered. “She’s coming fast.”
My heart imploded.
“I will be there as soon as I possibly can.”
It wasn’t enough. Not even close. But it was all I had.
In a whirlwind of chaos, Gavin and Sean finished gathering everything while Griffin double-checked with the front desk to make sure our car was actually pulling up this time.
We were cutting it way too close for international travel, but I didn’t care.
All I had to do was stay calm enough not to get myself—or the guys—on a no-fly list. If I could manage that, I’d be golden.
I’d be holding my sweet baby girl in my arms, kissing Karla, and pretending like I hadn’t aged twenty years from pure panic. I just had to get there.
We sprinted through the tiny airport like four grown men who had lost the ability to be normal humans.
Gavin knocked over a sign. Sean apologized to literally everyone we passed like he was on a guilt tour.
Griffin somehow negotiated us through security faster than anyone should ever be able to.
I didn’t even remember taking off my shoes, but I definitely didn’t put them back on correctly.
We made the flight by approximately three seconds, launching ourselves into our seats like unhinged toddlers.
And then came the worst part—Four hours and fifty-four minutes.
The longest flight of my entire fucking existence.
I stared at the seat in front of me so intensely the fabric pattern imprinted onto my retinas. Gavin tried to distract me with fishing videos. Sean offered me emotional support snacks. Griffin said something about controlled breathing.
None of it mattered.
My daughter—my baby girl—was coming.
And I wasn’t there.
Every minute was agony. Every cloud outside the window mocked me. The plane felt too slow, too loud, too full of people who weren’t in medical emergencies.
And Karla… she was alone. Or at least without me. That was enough to gut me.
I didn’t blink until the wheels hit the runway.
When they did, we didn’t even say anything.
We just ran.
The moment the sliding doors opened into the maternity ward, I burst through like a linebacker.
“Mr. Cox?” a nurse asked, glancing up from her computer.
“That’s me,” I blurted out, slamming my hands onto the counter. “My girlfriend is in labor.”
She smiled. Smiled.
As if I wasn’t dying.
“Actually,” she corrected kindly, “she isn’t anymore.”
My heart stopped.
She held up a chart.
“Congratulations,” she said, beaming. “You’re a father to a healthy little girl.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could barely comprehend the words. Father. Healthy. Girl.
She pointed to a door right in front of us. “Just be quiet when you go in. I think they’re all sleeping.”
I pushed the door open slowly.
And there she was.
Karla. My beautiful, fierce, unstoppable Karla. Sitting up in the hospital bed, hair messy, cheeks flushed, a little exhausted, a little radiant in a way I’d never seen before.
And in her arms—A tiny pink-and-white bundle.
Our daughter.
My daughter.
Jordan was snoring in the corner with her mouth wide open. McBee had one shoe off and one shoe on. Myla looked like a medieval knight who fell asleep standing guard, hand still clutching her phone.
Their spa luggage formed a chaotic mountain in the corner. Clothes, towels, face masks—a disaster zone.
The most beautiful disaster zone I’d ever seen.
Tears filled my eyes instantly. I didn’t try to stop them.
I took a few steps forward, hand over my mouth, chest aching with something huge and overwhelming.
This was it.
This was the moment.
The one I’d never forget.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I whispered as I reached her bedside.
Karla looked up at me—exhausted, glowing, emotional—and everything inside me broke in the best possible way.
“Brayden,” she whispered, smiling trembly. “I’d like you to meet your daughter. Lilly Marie.”
She lifted the tiny bundle toward me, and I swear my legs nearly gave out.
I gently slid my hands underneath her, lifting her into my arms. She weighed almost nothing—like a warm sigh. Like a wish. Like something too precious to exist in the real world.
She had a tiny button nose. Then-there-then-gone eyelashes. Fists balled tight like she was ready to fight anyone who looked at her wrong.
My breath caught.
“Hi, Lilly,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Sorry I was late, but you decided to surprise us a little early.”
She slept on, unfazed. Already a better sleeper than her mother.
I moved to my knees beside the bed, still holding her, and looked up into Karla’s teary eyes.
“I love you so much,” I breathe. It poured out, unfiltered, raw.
Karla reached out and cupped my cheek, her thumb wiping away a tear I didn’t know had fallen. “You have no idea how much I love you, Brayden.”
I leaned in.
Our lips met.
And that kiss—
Simple.
Soft.
Perfect.
It wasn’t explosive or frantic. It wasn’t the wild kind of kiss we’d shared a hundred times.
It was the one that rewired my entire life.
The one that anchored me.
The one that made everything before it feel like the prequel to something real.
A kiss that started the rest of our forever.
A kiss that made my life complete.