Corin

---

We hadn’t gotten home ’til after ten, and Canaan apparently had a songwriting bug up his ass, so he was down in the studio working that out, which left me alone in the room we still currently shared, with an odd, unsettled feeling in my stomach.

I tried reading a magazine, tried playing a video game, and tried scrolling through social media, but nothing felt right or held my interest.

By the time it was nearing midnight, I was bored out of my skull and still too antsy to do anything, too keyed up to sleep. Missing Tate, wishing there was a way for us to sleep together again tonight…

I was in the living room of the apartment over the studio, listlessly playing Madden—I don’t even really give a shit about football, but Baxter did, obviously, and this was easy to do while zoned out. I heard feet on the stairs, assumed it was Cane…but I still heard his guitar going, which meant it wasn’t him. Luce was working, and Bax was still gone with Eva, so it was either one of my brothers randomly coming to chill, or it was…

Tate.

She gingerly shoved open the door, peeking her head through. “Hi, um…hi.”

I paused the game and tossed the controller aside, getting to my feet to greet her. “Hi there, honeypot,” I said, wrapping her up for a hug and kiss as if I’d not seen her in days rather than under the three hours it had actually been. “What’s up, buttercup?”

I really saw her, then. Red eyes. Blotchy cheeks. Tear tracks. Barely disguised terror on her face; she was barely holding back sobs.

“Corin, I—” She lost the fight to hold them back, then.

I clutched her against me, burying her face in my chest and holding her as she sobbed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—Tate, honey, what’s wrong?” I pulled her away and clutched her face in both hands. “Did something happen? Is Aerie okay?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that.” She eyed the couch. “I need to sit down.”

I helped her to the couch, and she shakily took a seat, and then just sat there on the edge, wringing her hands, twisting her fingers, and playing with her fingernails.

“Tate, talk to me,” I said. “You’re scaring me.”

She glanced at me through tear-filled eyes. “You probably should be scared. And I’m scared to tell you, because you’ll be so mad.”

I frowned. “Mad? At who? About what?”

She’d set her purse on the coffee table when she sat down; now, she reached into it and pulled out a small paper-and-plastic rectangle full of bubbles, some of which had pills in them, some of which didn’t.

“Birth control,” she said, tossing the package on the coffee table with a clatter.

I nodded as I sat beside her. “Yeah, I know what it is.”

My heart was hammering as Tate paused.

She tapped a bubble. “This is today.” The bubble had a pill in it; she tapped another bubble, which also had a pill in it. “This is yesterday.” Another bubble. “This is the day before.” All the others before that were empty.

She stared at me as the penny dropped.

“Tate.” I let out a nervous, shaky breath. “What are you saying?”

She blinked back tears. “I forgot to bring my pills with me this whole weekend.” She said this in a barely audible whisper.

I choked. “Um. For real?”

She laughed bitterly. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

I blew out a breath and leaned back against the couch, head tipped back, blinking hard. “So. You…you skipped three doses?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I sat forward again, rubbing my palms down my face as I met her gaze. “And yesterday and this morning, we didn’t…” I couldn’t even finish it.

“We didn’t once use a condom.”

I ran my hand over my tied-back hair. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

I leaned over, elbows on my knees, speaking through hands tented in front of my face. “We’re idiots.”

“Yeah.”

“What were we thinking?” Panic was blasting through me, guilt, fear…a million coruscating emotions. “What was I thinking? I never do that, ever. Like, I have never once had unprotected sex, ever.”

“Neither have I,” Tate said.

“So, at the very least, we know we’re both clean,” I said, hunting for a bright side. “And, I mean, after we moved back here, Cane and I both got tested just as a matter of precaution. So...there’s that.”

“Mom makes us get tested regularly too,” Tate said. “But honestly, I hadn’t even considered that aspect.”

“I know, I’m just looking for…” I shrugged as I trailed off.

“Anything positive in this fucked-up mess we’ve made?”

I frowned at her. “Now hold on a second, Tate.” I grabbed her hand. “Number one, there’s the day-after thing, right? Plan B? And…there’s still a chance nothing will happen, right?”

Tate tangled her fingers with mine. “Corin, baby. We fucked, like…at least six times in less than twenty-four hours. Bare each time.” She laughed softly.

“Eight times,” I corrected. “We…we made love eight times.”

She smiled at me through tears. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

I nodded. “It was a hell of a lot more than fucking, Tate. I know that phrase is overused and cliché and trite, but it’s also the truest expression of what we shared together.”

“Corin, I’m sorry—”

I slid off the couch to kneel in front of her, clutching her hands in mine. “Tate, stop. Don’t apologize. We fucked up, okay? But we did it together. We fucked up.”

“But I—”

I cut in over her. “And we’ll handle this together.”

She put her hand over my mouth. “Corin, I know what we said yesterday, but I’m not expecting you to—”

I grabbed her wrist and gently but firmly tugged it away, then slid up to sit on the couch, and pulled her onto my lap. “Did you mean it?”

She leaned against my chest, her head nodding under my chin. “Of course. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it with all my heart.”

“Do you regret saying it?”

“No.”

“Is it still true?” She didn’t answer, this time. I tucked my finger under her chin and tilted her face up so she was meeting my eyes. “Tate. Is it still true? You told me you love me…do you still feel that way?”

Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she tugged her face away, but then returned her gaze to mine on her own. “Yes, Corin. I still feel that way. I love you.”

I nodded. “Well…all right then.”

It was her turn to frown. “All right then? What’s that mean?”

I shrugged. “I just mean that…I love you. You love me. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know we’ll figure it out…together.”

She shook her head, crying suddenly. “I’m not tying you down, Corin. You have a huge career ahead of you.”

“Don’t I get to make that choice?”

“Yes, but—”

I cut in again. “Tate. Stop. This is us, okay? You and me. We’re in this together, no matter what. You can’t take that away from me.”

“I’m not trying to take anything away from you,” she argued. “I just—”

“Then stop acting like there’s any possibility whatsoever of you dealing with this on your own.”

“Stop interrupting me, Corin,” Tate snapped. “I just mean I don’t expect you to…to stay, just because we said I love you a few times. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Now you’re just being stupid.”

She glared at me. “Excuse me?”

“You’re trying to give me an out I don’t want.” I cupped her cheek.

“Why not?” she said, sniffling.

“Because I love you.” I tapped my forehead against hers. “I’ve never been in love before. I don’t know how this works, how any of this is going to shake out. I just know I love you—and I don’t say that lightly. I love you, Tate Kingsley. And I’m not douching off because of this, and I’m not going to let you run, either.”

She snickered. “You’re not douching off? What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m not running away like a douchebag.”

Tate laughed, and then lapsed into silence. Eventually, she pulled away to look at me. “Last time, Corin. Are you sure?”

“You’re stuck with me now, honeypot.” I leaned in to kiss her. “I’m your man for life, Tate.”

“You’re my man.”

“That’s right.” I heaved a sigh. “Now, let’s go hit up a pharmacy, or wherever you get Plan B. I won’t run from it, but if we can avoid you being pregnant just yet, then I’m all about trying.”

“Me too, believe me,” she whispered. “Me too.”

We headed for the door, and I paused before we headed down the stairs. “Tate?”

She rested her head on my shoulder. “Corin?”

“No regrets, babe. Not one. No matter what.”

She laughed. “You’re a twin…and I’m a twin.” She patted my cheek. “Say that again after I’m pregnant with twins.”

A wave of dizziness washed over me. “Holy fuck.”

Another laugh. “Exactly.”

---

Tate took Plan B, and after that, the only thing we could do was wait and see.

She’d just ended her period before we’d taken that trip, so we had a whole month to wait. We filled that month with a lot of protected sex, hanging out with Canaan and Aerie, and a lot of making music together and spending time with the rest of the brothers.

Bax, apparently, just wasn’t coming back anytime soon, since they were still gone—last word was they’d rented a little cabin in the woods somewhere in Colorado, and were refusing to leave until one or the other of them got sick of it…which was a rigged game if you ask me, but whatever. It left us a man short in the bar, but the rest of us stepped up our hours to cover it, and it was fine.

Aerie and Canaan were spending a shitload of time in the studio together, playing. Which was awesome, because they rocked together, sonically.

Tate spent most of her free time practicing the cello, which filled our apartment with beautiful music night and day.

All four of us turned twenty-one.

The girls both started waiting tables at the bar on the weekends, out of boredom, they claimed, and turned out to be really amazing at it, and having a pair of gorgeous twin girls with fucking incredible cleavage waiting tables did wonders for business.

Another two weeks past the beginning of the next month, and still no period.

Finally, Tate had me take her to the pharmacy, where she purchased no less than a dozen different pregnancy tests.

She locked herself in the bathroom at the apartment over the bar for twenty minutes.

And came out crying.

She laid out the tests on the kitchen counter, one by one, in a row.

Each one positive.

And, at that moment, as I was absorbing the reality, trying to process what this meant, Sebastian entered, followed by Dru, Mara, and Zane, who had Jax in his arms.

Sebastian stopped in the entryway of the kitchen, staring at the tests. “Dude. Seriously?”

“Dude,” I replied. “Seriously.”

Tate sagged into my arms. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

Zane clapped me on the shoulder. “Think I jinxed you, when we talked about this?”

Mara and Dru clustered around Tate and me, wrapping us up in a warm, woman-scented group hug.

“Welcome to the family, Tate,” Dru said.

“Thanks,” Tate said, sniffing.

I smelled baby, then, and heard Jax cooing; I looked up to see Zane holding Jax in the center of the circle, and I took my little nephew.

“Hi there, buddy,” I murmured to him. “Looks like you’re getting someone to play with.”

“Ba. Bababababa.” Jax whacked me on the cheek, babbling. “Ga. Ba-ga-ah-ba.”

“I know, right?” I took his hand, and he clutched my thumb in his little fist. “A little soon, and a lot unexpected, but we’ll be fine, won’t we?”

Mara smiled at me as I held her son. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got…” she tapped her fingers, counting, “like twelve people just on this side of your family who will all be here for you.”

“That’s a lot of people,” I remarked.

Tate reached out, and Jax eagerly lunged into her arms. She sniffled again, laughing as Jax babbled and cooed and tugged on her hair, tangling his slobbery little fingers in her hair.

“I’m not ready!” Tate said, suddenly, handing Jax to Mara. “I’m…I’m not ready for a baby!”

Mara just laughed, taking the baby and snugging him onto her hip. “News flash, sweetie—you’re never ready for a baby.”

At that moment, then, Lucian appeared in the doorway. “Um. Rachel Kingsley is downstairs, demanding to see her daughters?”

Tate sagged against the couch, head hanging between her arms; her shoulders shook, and at first I thought she was crying, but I realized she was laughing.

“Holy shit, Mom,” Tate said, rolling her eyes. “Perfect timing.”

“No kidding,” I said.

She took my hand, picked up one of the pregnancy tests off the counter, and led me to the stairs. “Well, Corin, I guess it’s time to rock my mother’s world into a million pieces.”

“Is your mom as…intense…as she used to be?” I asked.

Tate just laughed again. “Worse—she’s worse. Way worse.” She rubbed her face in her palms. “This is going to suck, honey. Just saying. Be ready, okay?”

We descended the stairs, hand in hand. My nerves were jangling as if I was about to face a firing squad…or walk unarmed into a dragon’s den.

Given the circumstances…both felt equally accurate.