Chapter Seven
Rogue
Bellamy parks the car in front of Phoenix’s house and turns towards me. She leans across the console, wraps her hand around my nape and kisses me.
“Have fun tonight, baby. I’d wish you good luck, but I know you’re going to kick their asses.”
“I’d be disappointed if you thought otherwise,” I answer, kissing her even more forcefully.
She laughs. “Try not to make them lose too much money. We’re hosting that viewing party for Rhys’ game tomorrow and Phoenix is unbearable to be around when he’s in a bad mood.”
“No promises, sweetheart,” I say with a grin.
Bell and I just moved back to London a couple of weeks ago and it’s been nonstop parties, events, barbecues, and unnamed get-togethers with our friends since. I never had any doubts that we were making the right decision leaving Chicago, but the way we’ve been welcomed to London feels like coming home. We slotted back into the group like we never left.
One thing we’re going to have to do though, is establish some boundaries. Because her friends seem to always be around and it’s cutting into the time I have with Bellamy.
I won’t lie and say that I haven’t thought about taking Tristan’s brother-in-law’s approach. I haven’t met the man, but I heard that he shot one of his sister’s best friends.
Every time I think Bell and I are alone, one of her friends bursts through the door or calls or makes their presence known somehow, so it’s no wonder that I dream about shooting them. Non-fatally of course, I’d never do that to my friends. And now that I have proof that someone can do it and their marriage can get past it, the idea gets more attractive by the day.
But I see how happy Bellamy is, how settled she is since moving here and that kills the thought every time. Her happiness is the only thing that matters to me, no matter.
Tonight, Phoenix organized a poker night for the boys, our first since I’ve been back. The girls decided to do a movie night at ours so they wouldn’t be in the way.
On the one hand, poker night is for the boys.
On the other, not seeing Bell in her cute little pjs and her having fun without me was a non-starter. Within five minutes of being told the news, I’d bought cameras and had them set up around the house so I could check in on her from afar.
So what if I’m obsessed? Sue me.
My now fiancée is starting law school in a few months, she can defend me.
I’m looking forward to her getting me off in more ways than one, Lord knows I’ll more than likely need criminal representation again at some point.
I glance down at the massive ring sparkling on her fourth finger and feel the familiar warmth of comfort that spreads behind my ribcage every time I see it.
She’d told me I could propose only once she graduated college and I’d counted down the days until I could.
Literally.
Short of carving each passing day in the wall of our house like a prisoner counting down the days until his release, I’d done everything else. My first thought when I woke up was that I was one day closer to making her mine. I had an app that sent me nightly reminders so I had something to look forward to the next morning. I even had my assistant remind me every time I flew into a rage because there was no surer way to immediately calm me down than to tell me I only had a certain number of days until I could get down on bended knee.
And I’d made sure that when I finally did, I had the biggest ring possible so no one ever doubted who she belonged to. I’d actually tried to make it even bigger, but the jeweler had respectfully told me that if I did, Bellamy might have a hard time lifting her arm.
I relented, although only because I knew she wouldn’t want that. If it were up to me, I’d have hired an assistant whose full-time job it was to lift her arm for her if that’s what it took.
She said an enthusiastic, heartfelt ‘yes’ when I proposed and now we’re getting married in a few months.
It’s a whole new set of days I’m counting down to.
There’s a knock at my window and I turn to find Six waving at me.
I kiss Bell one more time, pressing my lips fiercely against hers, then reach for the handle.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”
Her hand comes down on my forearm. “Wait,” she says, eyeing me distrustfully. “You’re being suspiciously chill.”
“What do you mean?” I ask innocently.
“You typically throw a tantrum every time we’re separated.”
“I do not throw a tant—”
“And now you’re just letting me drive off with a kiss and that’s it.” Her eyes narrow on me. “Cough it up, Royal. What did you do?”
So what if I didn’t tell her about the cameras? Double sue me.
“If you make my wife wait outside your car for one more second, I’ll shove the first roll of poker chips I find down your throat, Rogue,” Phoenix snaps from the doorway.
“Phoenix!” Six exclaims.
“She doesn’t have a jacket on and there’s a breeze,” he continues, unperturbed.
“You heard him, sweetheart. Be safe on the road, text me the second you’re home.”
“You’re doing what Phoenix asked you to? Now I know you did something bad.”
“Love you,” I tell her as I exit the car.
“Nice to see you, Rogue,” Six says, patting my arm. She knows that touching me beyond that, especially while her husband is watching, is a bad idea. I grunt in response and brush past her, coming to stand next to Phoenix at the top of their stoop.
“Hello, wanker,” he calls distractedly, his eyes still pinned on his wife. She gets in the car and they drive off with a wave.
His body tightens the second they’re out of eyesight, a feeling I understand all too well.
“Don’t worry about it, mate. I’m keeping an eye on them.”
“How?”
“I’ll show you in a bit. Are the others here?”
Phoenix leads me down the hall and downstairs where their game room is located. “Tristan’s downstairs. He made some sort of intricate gourmet snacks for poker night.”
I roll my eyes as we emerge into the room. “Pompous asshole.”
“I know. I wanted to give him shit for it, but annoyingly they’re actually delicious as fuck.”
“Dickhead,” I say, making eye contact with the man in question.
“You’re welcome to stick to the chips and salsa, Rogue,” Tristan answers, casually flipping me off. “I wouldn’t want your unrefined palate to go into shock when it comes into contact with something sophisticated.”
“Given that every time I eat your food it’s something ridiculous like deconstructed duck mousse or jellied dolphin nose, the fact that I’m still standing here, palate intact, is a small miracle.”
“Weird. I seem to remember your name being the very first reservation when my newest restaurant opened,” he points out, nonchalantly dapping me up.
“That had nothing to do with you,” I argue with a sniff. “I want my wife’s best friend to have a certain standard of living and unfortunately that means supporting you.”
“Right.”
“No other reason.”
“Uh huh.”
“It wasn’t memorable.”
“Of course not.”
“Barely edible.”
“Is that why you have another reservation in two weeks?”
Ignoring him, I grab a cracker topped with sauce, a piece of smoked trout, and a slice of cucumber and pop it into my mouth.
“This isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever eaten,” I say around the mouthful, grabbing another and shoving it into my mouth before I finish swallowing the first.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’d like to get it on tape,” he says, holding his phone up to my face.
I shove him back. “Fuck off.”
Before he can answer, the sound of a crash of rhinos tumbling down the stairs comes from behind me.
I turn to find that it’s only Rhys making more noise than I thought was humanly possible for one man to make as he erupts into the room, fists held proudly up to the sky in celebration as he exclaims, “Congratulate me assholes, I’m going to be a father. My wife is pregnant!”
“You don’t have a wife,” Phoenix counters.
“Fuck you, Phoenix. Semantics. She’s going to be my wife in a few months.”
“But she isn’t yet.”
Rhys seems impervious to Phoenix’s attempts to goad him. The large smile on his face remains as his arms spread wider.
“She may not be my wife yet, but she is pregnant. My child is growing in her belly as we speak, something you absolutely do not have yet.”
“Thayer’s pregnant?” I question.
He beams. “Yup. Three months and a day. We waited until we’d cleared that milestone to let you know.”
“Congrats, mate,” Tristan says, stepping up to him and clapping him on the back.
God, he’s going to be insufferable. Not just because all he’s going to talk about for the next six months is the fact that Thayer is pregnant, but because he’ll have been the first of us to do so.
“The last thing the world needs is more of you,” I point out.
“Why? I’m hot, funny, smart, loyal, and supremely talented. There’s some emotional damage there, but my fiancée has mostly fixed me. Really, when you think about it, I’m perfect.”
“Humble too,” Phoenix points out dryly.
“World class athletes shouldn’t be humble. It’s unattractive and off brand.”
A smile curves Phoenix’s lips before he gives him a congratulatory handshake.
As intolerable as Rhys is going to be, he deserves this. He lost his parents suddenly and unexpectedly in a car crash when we were teenagers. That event ripped the world out from underneath him, taking the only family he had in one fell swoop. If anyone deserves to build their own family and to know happiness in that way, it’s him.
I fold his hand in mine and our eyes meet.
“They’d be proud of you,” I mutter, loud enough so that only he hears me. “I wish they were here to see this.”
The line of his lips falters for a second before he composes himself. And then he’s pulling me into a hug, one that’s many years in the making.
“Thanks, brother.”
After a moment, I pull away and clear my throat. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Dunno. Don’t care. That baby ties Silver to me for life, the sex doesn’t matter to me.”
“Want to check in on the two of them?” I offer.
“How?” Phoenix responds, taking an interested step forward.
I take my phone out and pull up the surveillance app with ease. The different camera angles come up on screen and I tap the one for the kitchen. It goes full screen, revealing the girls spread out across the space. Nera and Bellamy are sitting at the counter, Six is digging around the fridge, and Thayer is leaning against the sink.
Tristan gives an impressed whistle over my shoulder.
“Are the cameras new?”
“Yup, as of yesterday,” I answer proudly.
“Nice. What company did you use?”
“I’ll send you their info. They might do a package deal discount if the rest of you are interested?”
“I’m in,” Rhys says. “Definitely.”
“Same,” Tristan says. “Very annoyed I didn’t think of this myself.”
“Count me in for the package deal,” Phoenix adds. “Although, I think — I think — we can afford it even without the discount. Haven’t checked my accounts in a minute but unless my balance has dropped nine digits since then, I should be good.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m about to be a dad, I need to start saving.”
Tristan gives Rhys an unimpressed look. “You signed a five hundred million pound contract extension last year, and that’s not even taking your endorsements into account.”
“Yes, but what if I have a daughter? I want my princess to have whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.”
“Fair enough,” Phoenix acquiesces.
“And five hundred million plus isn’t enough?” Tristan questions. “Good luck to the poor bloke who marries your hypothetical daughter. Better hope he’s rich.”
“He’d better be if he’s coming within spitting distance of my daughter. Now zoom in,” Rhys instructs me. “Can you see a bump? She’s starting to have a little baby bump, it’s so cute. I guess you can only really see it when she’s naked.” He straightens, coming suddenly to his senses. “Actually, what am I saying? Don’t you dare fucking look. Avert your eyes, wankers.”
Phoenix shoves him out of the way and pinches the screen with his fingers. “You think I give a shit about your fiancée? The only person I’m looking at is my wife.” He zooms until Six’s face takes up the entire screen. She’s looking at something off camera, her eyes widening in surprise. “She’s so pretty,” he says dreamily.
“You fuckers get your own feed. This is mine.” I slap Phoenix’s hand off my screen.
I zoom out and hear Rhys whisper a muttered “shit” as I make eye contact with Bellamy.
And I do mean, eye contact .
Because my fiancée is standing right beneath the camera, staring straight into the lens, her fists poised sternly on her hips.
“Looks like you’ve been caught out,” Tristan points out.
“No shit.”
She points a finger up at me and starts talking. I turn on the volume so I can hear her.
“Rogue Royal, you are in deep shit. I know that you’ll have gotten a state-of-the-art spy system so I’m willing to bet you can talk to me through this camera. Unmute yourself now.”
A smile curves my lips. She knows me so well.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I say. I see the girls react as my voice echoes through the kitchen.
“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me. This is why you were so chill earlier. You were spying.”
“I wasn’t spying.”
“What would you call this?”
“Not wanting to miss out on a single moment with you.”
I see her spine soften a fraction, a smile fighting to loosen the straight line of her lips.
“I didn’t have the volume on, I just wanted to be able to check in from time to time and make sure you were okay.”
“Sorry to interrupt your domestic,” Phoenix says, grabbing the phone from my hand. “But hi, wild girl.” On screen, Six sits up straighter, a delighted smile taking over her face. She waves at the camera. “Miss you,” he adds.
“Miss you too!”
“You should have told me, Rogue.”
I yank the phone back from Phoenix. “I know. Don’t take them down.”
“Give me one good reason.”
“I don’t want to have to punish you when I come home. I’m not saying any more than that in front of an audience.”
She flushes a pretty scarlet color and remains silent.
“You guys should actually go play poker now,” Nera suggests.
“Hi, baby,” Tristan says, pushing to the front so he can speak close to the phone.
“Hi, Tris,” she calls back, making a heart sign with her hands.
“We’re going, we’re going,” I answer her, before adding, “Oh, and Thayer?”
The woman in question was about to take a bite of ice cream when I call her name. Her spoon pauses halfway to her mouth and she looks up. “Yes?”
“Procreating with Rhys? You’re a brave woman,” I drawl. “Congratulations.”
The other girls freeze. Three pairs of eyes slide slowly towards her.
“What is he talking about?” Bellamy questions.
“Are you..?” Sixtine asks.
“Is he— Are you fucking serious?” Nera jumps in.
“I hadn’t gotten around to telling the girls yet,” she explains sheepishly. “But yes. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”
Shrieks of joy, happy and shrill enough to pierce the sound barrier, erupt before she’s even finished her sentence.
Bellamy and Nera round the counter as Six jumps on Thayer, and the three of them embrace her in a massive group hug, laughing, crying, screaming, and placing hands on her stomach as the joy of the news cancels everything else out.
And the boys watch through the camera, silent and entirely focused, mesmerized by the sight of our girls celebrating.
I knew the cameras were a good idea.
***