Page 34 of VIP

“How dare you show your face here,” Max seethed, clenching his fists to keep from punching him.

My heart was racing, flooding my body with a jittery kind of tension, and my stomach flipped. I pulled on his arm. “Max, please—”

Carson held his hands up in defense, his body tense, as if waiting for the right hook he knew he deserved. “Hey, look…” he started, but he seemed at a loss for words. To be fair, he legitimately looked uncomfortable, none of his usual cocky swagger to be seen. With every eye (and likely several cameras) on us, Carson slowly lowered his defense. “I’m sorry, okay? I was just doing my job. I never wanted to ruin your career, but… you seem to have come out all right in the end. No hard feelings?”

While there were undoubtedly plenty of hard feelings, he wasn’t wrong. Because of his meddling, I had the most amazing alpha in my life and a baby on the way. Max also had a more satisfying career ahead of him.

Honestly? We were better off. But the guy was still an asshole.

Max shook out his fists, forcing the tension from his body, though my grip on his arm remained tight. My whole body, in fact, felt tight, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. “Okay,” Max said, huffing out a breath. “Bygones and all that bullshit, but don’t expect me to like you.”

“Fair enough,” Carson said, giving him a shaky smile, then he tentatively reached out to offer his hand. Max stared down at it for a moment before giving it a brief shake.

“I’d better see something positive about this printed in Chatter,” Max griped.

Carson’s smile widened. “You got it. A glowing movie review coming right up.”

As much as I appreciated their reconciliation, this was very much not the time. Sweat broke out on my forehead. “Great, glad to hear it!” I snapped, interrupting them. Max must’ve heard something weird in my voice, because he turned to look at me, and I saw concern flicker across his face. “Now, if you alphas are done measuring your dicks, could someone please drive me to the hospital? I think my water just broke.”

We all looked down. Sure enough, the red carpet beneath my feet was a darker red, now damp.

Max wheezed, trying to catch his breath. He finally managed to choke out, “Get back in the limo.” This was impossible, of course, because our limo was no longer at the curb—and when I realized this, I had a moment of blind panic. I had no doubt Max would’ve carried me all the way to the hospital if he had to, but the most unexpected savior stepped up.

“I’ll drive you,” Carson said without a single second of hesitation. “Come on, I parked just over there.”

As satisfying as it was to hold onto a grudge, it wasn’t a luxury we could afford, not today. Neither of us would look a gift horse in the mouth—not when it came to our baby’s safety. “Okay,” Max said, nodding.

Max and I sat in the back of Carson’s sedan. I saw the way he looked down at my wet pants, but he had the good sense not to complain about me ruining the upholstery.

Holding my hand, Max grumbled, “You’d better not print any of this story.”

Carson looked back at us in the rear-view mirror. “Aw, come on. Have a heart, Shepherd. What if I send you a copy of the article ahead of time for your approval? I promise it’ll be sweet, but you can’t ask me not to write the story. It’s gold! Driving you to the hospital? I’m practically a part of the birth.”

Max pinched the bridge of his nose, but he didn’t immediately say no. He didn’t answer until Carson had pulled up in front of the hospital, and we got out with great difficulty. With the passenger-side window rolled down, Carson called, “Well?”

Max huffed, frustrated. “Fine. But this doesn’t make us friends, Carson.”

Carson smirked. “I would never dream of it.” Then he leaned across the seat to look out at me. “Good luck, and in case you don’t have a name picked out, you really should consider Patrick. Or Patricia if it’s a girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t push your luck,” I grumbled, turning my back to cut off the conversation, but I couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips—until a contraction hit, and that smile fell straight off my face.

While I had always insisted that Max not spend too much money on me, this was one case where he refused to listen, and I was in no position to argue. He splurged on a private room, with a wider bed and a TV. He said it was so he could stay with me the whole time, sleeping on the extra cot, and the thought of having him here with me was too good to pass up.

Especially once the contractions took over in force, my labor marching along at a startling pace, and I couldn’t seem to think beyond the pain. As soon as the doctor checked my progress and gave the green light for an epidural, I was more than happy to have a little break from the nonstop pain.

The labor itself was pretty straightforward—in that it seemed to go on forever, through the night and well into the morning, but there were no complications, and it was at long last time to push.

“No… more… babies!” I panted through gritted teeth while bearing down.

“Anything you say, precious,” Max whispered in my ear, bracing me from behind. “You can have anything you want.”

As soon as it was over, though, and I had my baby girl swaddled and suckling at my chest, I found myself so thoroughly in love that I said, “Well… maybe one more baby.”

Max smirked like he’d always known I would change my mind. He snuggled beside me on the bed, gazing down at our daughter. “She is pretty amazing, isn’t she?”

“She really is,” I whispered, stroking her tiny hand, each finger tipped with the most delicate fingernail. “I’m sorry we missed your premiere.”

He scoffed. “Are you kidding? This was way better than my lame movie. You were just going to sleep through it anyway, remember?”

---