Page 168 of On The Edge
The four of them joked and teased about it, but decided that because Adam got the marriage certificate, he would have to be the last to get me pregnant. Then they had this dumbass fight, where I sat back on the big plush couch and let them duke it out. I knew I wasn’t getting pregnant right then, so I let them have their hypotheticals.
That fight wasn’t about me and honestly, I plan on getting pregnant at least four times, so… they get to decide the order.
Look, I have four very fertile, sexy as fuck, possessive men all wanting to fill me up over and over until it takes? I wasn’t going to complain.
We ended up getting pregnant almost a year later. Six months after we got married, all of us. We went down to the courthouse; I was in a simple white dress and they all put on their business casual outfits to go sign the piece of paper that told me what I already knew: that they’re mine and I’m theirs. I thought that was it, but the guys had put together a small surprise.
When we got back to the penthouse, they brought me to the roof at dusk.
While we’d been gone, they’d set it up so the roof would be decorated ornately. It was breathtaking with a beautiful floral arch sat against the New York skyline with rose petals covering the ground, making an aisle where Paul—who’d become my bestie, much to the chagrin of my men—stood with a goofy smile, ready to marry us. The five of us. Together.
We stood there, looking at each other with tears in our eyes promising forever, loyalty, love, happiness. It was perfect.
A year and a half later, I’d started throwing up uncontrollably. We thought it was the flu, and they all braced to get it after taking care of me. I was sick morning, noon and night; I could barely lift my head up because I was so sick. By day five, Reis came storming into the bathroom as I threw up thewater I’d choked down and he held my hair back, screaming for someone to call a doctor and have them come to the penthouse. Adam came in, pulling at his short hair with his phone by his ear.
Thirty minutes later, after having checked me out as my four looming husbands stared him down, the kind doctor smiled softly and asked me about my last period.
I was pregnant.
Smiling at the memory of how Reis' jaw dropped and Kai’s eyebrows shot up as he yelled, “Fuck yes!” Adam covered his mouth with his hand, but I could see tears forming in his eyes—we just pretended that I didn’t start crying becausehewas—and Markus… Markus fell to his knees, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles.
“You’re a goddess. Our goddess. And now, you’re bringing our child into the world.Fuck,” he’d said shakily, “thank you so much.”
The guys were so fucking excited to be dads. I wanted for nothing. I wasn’t allowed to carry, do, or move anything. Seriously, they were protective before I got pregnant, but the moment they found out, I was pretty much put in a plastic bubble. Then the tour came about and I put my foot down. I was going.
They all fought me on it. They were worried the baby would be hurt by the noise, that I’d be put under too much stress, blah, blah, blah. I told them I was going and that I’d do whatever they said to keep their surprisingly high anxiety levels down. The next day, they all came to me with a PowerPoint—a fucking PowerPoint—and presented their rules for the tour.
I’m not allowed to stay the whole concert, just half but it’s up to me which half.
I’m not allowed to pull all-nighters.They took special care to get their tour bus refitted, so now there was a queen-sized bed in the back for me and I was to sleep well each night. No excuses.
I was to let them move everything and let them handle the schedule, it was purely there for a good time. Absolutely no stress would be placed on me.And hell, they made sure everyone knew it.
I was to be escorted by one of them or Paul, everywhere. No chances were to be taken.
The four of them all stood by the TV, clicking through slides like they had to convince me to agree to their rules when I’d already told them I would. But I just sat back, licking an ice cream cone–the only thing I could keep down after the tenth week–and let them give me the cutest presentation I’ve ever seen. Reis was, of course, passionate and made it clear there would be no room for discussion while Kai stood next to him, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to be intimidating. All it did was turn me on.
Adam and Markus stood on the other side and nodded along, jumping in here and there with thewhybehind the rules. I made sure to make eye contact with them when they spoke and take a long lick of my ice cream and stifle my smirk when they’d stutter.
When Reis gritted his teeth, I knew I’d won. I made sure to tell them I agreed to everything before I took turns choking on their cocks.
It’s been the best three years of my life. I feel so completely full of love and happiness.
A strong pull around my belly takes my breath away and I fight to stay upright.
“Oh fuck,” I groan, bending just slightly.
I don’t know how the hell they heard it, but Kai turns the moment I curse their names in my head. Even from here, I can see his eyes lock onto me and worry color his face. He takes one step towards me and I shake my head, pointing aggressively back to the stage.
This is the last fucking song, on the last fucking show, on their first tour since everything broke. Ultimately the band’s standing grew even stronger, but there was a little bit of a rocky period. During that time, they kept reassuring me over and over that they were prepared for this. They were okay with whatever happened as long as I was by their sides.
Paul’s hand rests on my upper back as he asks me if I’m okay.
“I’m fine,” I say, waving him off but I know.
I know it’s time.
“You’re not fine, Mel. Come on.” He tries to convince me to follow him back, but I need to see this. I need to see that they’ve done it. That even despite my disruption in their lives three years ago, even despite the betrayal and heartbreak, that they never lost their spark. The insanely beautiful spark that makes themthem.
