Page 94 of Playboy

He shakes his head. “Lex and I are enjoying our baby-free lots-of-sex marriage. I’ll let ya know if the plan changes.”

Short of breath, I focus on War. “You have kids. Hell, you’re about to havefourof them, and you’re making it work.”

“My wife’s job doesn’t require her to travel. That’s how we ended up married in the first place. I needed someone home with the kids.”

“You sure you want to phrase it that way?”

War doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. “It’s our story. Can’t change it, and honestly, I wouldn’t. I love my wife, but the truth of the matter is that had I not been trying to figure out how to raise three kids on my own, I doubt we would have ended up together. The kids are part of our love story, and I’m okay with that. Now your child is part of your story, so what do the two of you have planned when it comes to raising him or her?”

I shrug and inhale deeply, forcing my nerves to settle. “I guess we probably need a nanny.”

“I guess you should probably talk to your baby ma?—”

I point at War with a glare. “Do not finish that sentence.”

War smirks. “Thatta boy.”

“I’ll talk to Hannah.”

“You do that. And while you’re at it, do not complain about any of those pregnancy symptoms. You sound like an idiot.”

I blow out a breath. The guys on the vlog would understand. “They’re called sympathy symptoms. Maybe I’m just more in tune with my woman than you are.”

He turns and faces me full-on, shoulders pulled back. “You don’t even know if you’re in a relationship with your woman. I promise you, the two of you are not more in tune than me and my wife.”

Deflating, I yank my jersey from its hanger. He’s right. And I fucking hate that he can use that term so freely, while I can’t even call Hannah mine.

Because she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, god. Right there. Yes!”Hannah wraps her legs around my head and bucks her hips, chasing her orgasm.

She’s on the precipice, clenching around my fingers, when her damn phone rings.

She growls and slaps the mattress, her thighs relaxing as she reaches for it. “Hello?”

I swipe at my face and suck in the first deep breath I’ve had in a good ten minutes.

Hannah’s expression darkens. “No, Jasper. Don’t do that. No, dammit. I’ll handle it. Just”—she pulls the phone from her ear and glances at the screen—“give me thirty minutes.” Sheslides her legs off my shoulders and settles on the edge of the bed as she ends the call.

“What’s the problem?” I’m proud of myself for keeping my tone even when all I want to do is fucking growl.

She reaches for her robe, her words clipped. “Jasper got into a fight at a bar. I need to go down there and take care of the security footage and the guy he fought with.”

“Absolutely not,” I grit out, sitting up.

Hannah tenses and slowly turns my way. “Excuse me?”

Maybe I should be scared by the death glare she’s wearing. Maybe I don’t have any sense of self-preservation.

“There is no way my pregnant girlfriend is getting out of bed at ten p.m. to deal with some asshole in a bar.” I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone.”

She rolls her lips in like she’s fighting a smile as she drops the device into my hand.

“And yes, I called you my girlfriend. You’re going to have to deal with it.”

Tongue in her cheek, she averts her attention. The girl who always has something to say has suddenly gone silent. I laugh. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s clearly my girlfriend, and she doesn’t mind when I take control, yet I’ve been too afraid to try until now. Too afraid to push the relationship boundaries.

I pull up Jasper’s information and text him. I remind him not to say a word to anyone and just hang tight.

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