Page 60 of End Game
“Uh, no,” I laugh. “I want to have answers to the questions they’re going to have before I go in there announcing they’re going to be grandparents.”
“Do you think they’ll be happy?”
“Yes. I’m sure, on some level, they will. But irritated that it’s happening this way.” The doorbell chimes and I glance at the clock. “Who could that be?”
“Maybe the universe heard my plea and brought me French toast,” Poppy says, climbing out of bed. “I’ll get the door in case it’s Branch. He has an appointment with my right hand.”
Laughing, although I’m sure she’s not entirely kidding, I change out of my oversized t-shirt and into a pair of shorts and a cami. By the time I walk into the living room, I spy my brother sitting on the sofa.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I walk by towards the kitchen. “I figured you’d be hungover.”
“I didn’t drink much,” he admits. “Someone had to babysit Branch.”
My footsteps falter. “Oh, really?”
“He got shitfaced as hell. He parties as hard as the next guy, but last night was a little overboard.” Finn looks at me with a lifted brow. “Did you see him last night?”
“Briefly.”
Ignoring further interrogation, I head into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of milk. I’m squeezing in a healthy dose of chocolate syrup when Finn comes in. I see Poppy through the doorway, sitting on the couch and looking nervous.
“What’s going on with you?” Finn asks, sitting at the bar.
“Nothing.” I take in a long, measured sip of the milk and wait for him to change the subject. He doesn’t. “Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because I’m your brother. Because I know the sound of your voice when you lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
He’s not deterred. Instead, he narrows his eyes. “I’m worried, Lay. Has Callum been bothering you?”
There’s so much concern, so much love, shining in his eyes that it breaks the wall I’ve so carefully erected. It’s what I need right now. It’s a look of protection, of consideration, of compassion that I didn’t get from Branch in any way whatsoever.
My hand shakes as I set the glass down. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Before I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t go crazy.”
“I’m doing no such thing.”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Then I’m not telling you.”
“I promise I will react proportionately to whatever you say.”
“No deal.”
“Layla . . .”
Knowing I’m not going to get out of this and hoping beyond hope he takes it well and that maybe that will help my anxiety, I take a deep breath. “Finn, I’m pregnant.”
His eyes nearly fall out of his head. “You’re what?”
“I’m having a baby in the spring.”
He watches me, twisting his lips together. “I’m not going to kill Callum.”
“That’s good.”
