Page 16 of Perfect Storm

“Ask him,” Adam says, fiddling with his wireless headphones.

He is about to put them in and tune us all out. He recorded himself playing his new song this morning, so he’ll be working on the lyrics.

“Hey Ciro!”

Nick yells. Nash and Jack look at us, then their heads turn back to Ciro. He is reading a book and slowly raises his head.

“You heard anything from Alessa about this?”

“No,” he says. Then goes back to his book.

“Thanks, man,” Nick says.

“No problem.”

Nash kicks Ciro’s calf and earns himself a scowl. “Dude, do you know anything? Seriously, how did you get on the plane before us?”

“I asked which plane it was and if I could get on.”

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Arch rolls his eyes.

Ciro looks at him, his eyes lingering for a moment before he again goes back to his book.

“Because we’re all normal, friendly people who like to be around other normal friendly people,” Jack states.

He’s slouched in his seat, his long legs crossed at the ankles. He has a blanket from his knees to his chin and is still wearing his sunglasses.

“Ciro is an island,” he drawls.

That gets a laugh from the group. Elsa comes around and asks Adam to switch seats. He fusses and makes a show of getting up to move before dropping a kiss on my forehead.

“Why the fuck aren’t you sitting next to me?” Nick asks as Adam moves to the back of the plane.

He ignores him as he puts his earphones in. Archer goes to sit next to Nick instead, and pretty soon they’re watching something on Nick’s phone.

Elsa kicks off her shoes and pulls her feet up. She sits side on, so she is facing me, her back to the aisle.

“So,” she says. I wait, but she doesn’t continue. I raise my brows. “So?” she repeats.

“I’m kind of at a loss,” I tell her.

Elsa has become one of my closest friends since meeting the band and hanging out in LA. She is really sweet and caring and has a wicked sense of humor. She is absolutely perfect for Nick, too.

Her eyes drop to my stomach. I put my hand over it, then quickly pull it away and grip the arm rest. Too late, though. She is staring at me, blue eyes wide.

“How did you know?”

“My older sisters all have kids. I always guessed when they were expecting. I don’t know, it’s a gift, I guess. So, it’s true?” she squeals, but I put my hand on her arm.

“No one knows.”

“Really?”

“Not even mom.”

Immense guilt hits me again. We agreed we would wait to tell everyone, just until it was safe, that we passed that three-monthmark. But mom is all I have. We’re each other’s only family, besides Adam and the band, who she has adopted as though they’re her own kids. She’ll be thrilled knowing she is going to be a grandma.

“Oh honey,” Elsa takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

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