Page 146 of Please Save Me

I slipped the bag back into its hiding spot and put the hand towel we never used over the top before washing my hands and heading out.

Mason was on partial bed rest right now, which meant she needed to be sitting or laying down as much as possible. Because of that, I got her settled in my room. Until five minutes ago, we were working on songs together, then anxiety crept in.

When I returned to the room, Mason was propped up in bed with a mountain of pillows, she had one of my guitars in her lap and a notebook off to the side.

She looked up as I entered, a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. I didn’t deserve her.I didn’t deserve her.Fuck. I really don't deserve her.

“You okay?” Her voice was gentle, wrapping around my shoulders as I tossed myself onto the bed beside her.

“Yeah, I just needed some air.” My gaze lazily shifted to her. “Writing songs is hard. Are you sure Ineedto do this?”

Her laugh soothed what remained of my nerves as a warm wave of relief washed over me.

“You’ll be glad you did. I hated singing the songs written for me,” she said, her nose crinkling like she tasted something gross.

“Yeah, but you’regoodat it… Can’t you just write my songs too? You know what I’m like.”

“Yeah, but for one.” She held up a finger. “We’re different genres and two.” She added another. “I’m only good because I’ve had practice.”

I groaned, threading my fingers into my hair. “Can I at least hear what you’re working on? For inspiration?”

“No, because it’s not ready.”

Oh, now I absolutely had to look. Instantly, I lunged over her to grab the book, but I miscalculated just how easy it would be to get over Mason. So, instead of snatching the book, I tumbled off the bed and landed with a loudthud. Realistically, that should have hurt, but I had one pressing concern.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” I blurted as I scrambled to my feet.

Mason looked startled for a moment before she burst out laughing. “Am I okay? Lucian, you just fell on your face, areyouokay?”

“I’m fine, did I get you?” I pointed to her belly. “I felt my arm bump into something.”

“You hit the guitar.” She snorted, holding up the instrument.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I crawled back on the bed and rested my cheek on Mason’s bump beforeprofuselyapologizing to Rosie.

Mason’s hand stroked my hair as I let myself relax into her. Between the scare of hurting Mason and the drugs pumping through my veins, my limbs started to feel like jello and my brain started to fog.

“I want another baby.”

Mason paused, and I realized I said that outloud.

“…You realize that one: I’m pregnant, so that has to wait. And two: you have to touch me if you want to make another baby, which you’ve beenterribleat recently.” The touch of humor stopped her from sounding mad. “Plus, we need to wait untilafterthe wedding.”

“Why? We’re already married. It’s not like we’ll breed a bastard.”

“You’re the one who’s adamant that we need a ceremony before we tell everyone; I refuse to look likethisat our wedding.”

She gestured to her body, and I really didn’t see the problem.

“What? Sexy as fuck?”

Maybe it was just me, but there was something inherently irresistible about a pregnant woman’s body, specifically Mason’s.

“Lucian, Cameron squeezed my tit during sex last night and itleaked,” she said with the cutest look of disgust.

Instantly, my blood rushed to the wrong head. Last night when she tried to sleep with me, my high had started to wear off, and I wanted to go to bed before the worst of withdrawal set in, but now?

“Yeah, and that’s sexy as fuck.”

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