5
AURORA
It’s not even nine a.m., and already, it’s a rough day. First, the baby kept me up all night practicing gymnastics in my uterus. Then, I woke after a few blessed hours of sleep nauseated. This freaks Jax out, and despite my arguments, he texts Ethan, who returns from an early morning meeting.
Now, he kneels next to me in his slacks and button-up, sleeves rolled, holding my hair and rubbing my back.
“Please go away,” I groan, wanting to be alone in my misery. “I don’t need an audience.”
“Like I care.”
His voice is growly, and usually, I love him taking that tone with me, but right now, it feels as if he’s annoyed.
Nausea rolls through me once more, and my stomach turns over. Ethan gags, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, and I want to die of embarrassment. I prefer Reece. At least he was a medic, trained not to express his displeasure.
Dizzy, I hug the porcelain, lay my head on my forearm, and concentrate on drawing slow, steady breaths.
Icy fingers press against my feverish cheeks. “Jackson, call room service for food.”
“Already done.” Jax wets a washcloth and hands it to him. “When does this end?”
The question is rhetorical, a thought spoken out loud, but Ethan isn’t in the mood.
“How the fuck would I know?” He places the cold compress on the back of my neck. “I don’t have other children.”
He’s agitated, and I feel like a burden. “Am I inconveniencing you?”
My whispered, strained words are swallowed by Jackson’s louder voice, now equally irritated. “You sure about that?”
Ethan turns to Jax, and the washcloth falls to the floor. “Yes, asshole. Are you?”
“Yeah, dickhead. I’m demisexual, obsessive, and paranoid. I know exactly who I’ve nutted in, and she’s in this room.”
“Stop—both of you. You’re not helping. Being pregnant sucks. Period.” I sit back and face Ethan. “If you have somewhere to be, go. I’m fine. I’ve been sick most of this pregnancy. I can handle it.”
He gives me a steely glare. “That doesn’t make me feel any fucking better. You are my priority. I’m pissed at—” He stops short and massages his nape. “Not at you.”
I stand, closing my eyes for a moment to let the vertigo subside. “Go. It’s just morning sickness. I’ll survive.”
“I got it.” Jax wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry I bothered you.”
Conflict rages in Ethan’s gaze, but with a reluctant sigh, he kisses my clammy forehead and promises to fly back with us.
I nibble on some toast and sip coffee, which I’m positive is decaf, until it’s time to catch a car to the airport. On the private jet, while waiting for Ethan and able to hold my head up, I make a list of my expenses for him, knowing it’ll ease his guilt to help me financially.
But when I log in to my bank account and the number is much lower than expected, fear grips me. A cold sweat breaks out along my heated skin. The pounding of my heart echoes in my ears, and the cabin is suddenly suffocating.
My fingertips tingle, and I shake my hands to ward off the impending sense of doom.
Jackson leans over and grabs my wrists. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” My mind goes blank. “My. Expenses.” My words are choppy. I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
I have no issues with Jax buying designer clothes and adorable baby outfits—he loves to spoil us—but relying on others entirely? That’s terrifying.
It hits me all at once. I don’t belong with these two. I’m still paying medical bills from years ago and have a child on the way. I can’t manage this lifestyle, can’t take time off work, can’t expect someone else to pay for my grandmother.
“Okay…?” He stretches out the word, brows furrowed.
“I can’t do this.”
“Oh, no.” His shoulders slump. “It’s house shopping all over again.”
“Fuck!” Yet another realization strikes me, and my head swims.
How am I supposed to afford a house? At this rate, I won’t be able to afford groceries.
“Stop.” He cups my face in his hands, his thumb ghosting over my cheekbone. “It’s already paid for. Don’t think about it.”
I lean into his touch. It’s almost enough to quell the dread kicking at my chest, but he doesn’t understand. His account has many, many more zeros than mine. He has a career and a trust fund. He’s never panicked about his bank balance or gone hungry or lost a childhood home.
My lips tremble. “I can’t walk the runway.”
The crease between his brows deepens. “You have in the past. You can in the future.”
“That’s where I earn the most money. The rest is only a daily stipend to wear the brand.”
“And?”
He’s trying hard to be supportive, but I’m an anxious, hormonal mess.
“I have shit to pay, Jax.”
“Just breathe. What’s your biggest concern?” He gives me that boyish smile, confident and determined to get me through this freakout.
I take a deep, quivering inhale. “The nursing home.”
“Okay, good. How much is it?”
“Seven thousand a month.”
His jaw drops. “Seven thousand a month?” His voice rises, green eyes widening in utter disbelief. “That’s criminal.”
“Don’t I fucking know?” My throat constricts, and my vision blurs with tears. I have no chance with Ethan if Jackson thinks it’s excessive.
“Oh, shit. Please don’t cry, babe. I’ll give you anything. You have nothing to worry about.” He frets over me, wiping away my tears with his knuckles and peppering my face with kisses.
“What the hell happened now?” demands a deep, familiar voice.
I sob harder, not wanting to upset him further.
“Thank fuck you’re here. She’s having a panic attack about paying for her grandmother’s nursing home.”
Ethan takes a seat across from us in one of the captain’s chairs, an unraised table in between. “Come here.”
Unable to speak, I shake my head. He’s dealt with me enough today.
He cocks his head and quirks a brow. “Who’s in charge here, Aurora?”
I rub at the ache in my sternum and climb onto his lap. Tears stream down my cheeks, my chest tightening at an alarming rate.
His large hand covers mine. “Jesus, your heart is pounding. Look at me.” Gray eyes bore into my soul.
“I promise you, baby girl, I won’t let anything happen to your grandmother.
Trust me. I know what it’s like to feel helpless when someone you love is sick.
That must have been scary for you all alone. ”
The fist gripping my chest loosens, and I nod.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.“Whatever she needs, we’ll get.”
I swallow the painful lump in my throat, nodding again.
He clasps the back of my neck in that possessive way of his. “Lie down and let me hold you. You’re exhausted. Did you sleep much last night?”
“No.” Sitting sideways, my knees bent in his lap, I snuggle into him. His muscular arms wrap around me, providing the safety I need, and my breath gradually slows, my pulse no longer slamming against my rib cage.
Jax unbuckles his seat belt, sits next to us, stretches my legs over his, and rests his head on Ethan’s opposite shoulder.
He mouths, “Love you,” and I mouth it back.
Ethan reclines in his seat. “This is the last time we can stay together, fly together. I mean it.”
Jackson and I exchange a glance, neither one of us believing him.