She twists her face from my chest, blinking up at me with eyes surrounded by makeup smudges. Even blotchy and messy, she's still the prettiest girl I've ever seen. "You will?"
"Of course. We love each other like brothers. We love you. We'll love the baby if that's what you decide."
"You will?"
Pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead, I stroke away the tendrils of damp hair from her cheeks. "We will. But what about your tour? What about your career? How do you feel about all this?"
Luna closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I love singing, Hudson. I really do. It's the thing that brings me the most joy, but the touring, the fame, the psycho assholes…those parts just make me sad."
"What are you saying, honey?"
"I want this baby, Hudson. I want this baby more than I've ever wanted anything. If you guys aren't ready to step in and be fathers, I'll understand. This isn't exactly a normal situation, and I'm sure that some of the guys will have a problem not knowing who the biological father is. I just…I don't want anyone to feel trapped. What we had was convenient at the time, but this is a lifelong commitment."
I snort, hugging her closer. "Nothing about being with you was about convenience. It was about desire and longing, and eventually about care and love. We would never have walked away if we didn't think it was what was best for you. The past few days, we've been walking around London like half-dead men."
"You have?"
"We have."
Her arms wrap around me more tightly, and a small sigh leaves her lips. "I missed you all so much."
"We missed you too, honey."
"Those new bodyguards weren't a patch on you guys."
"Now that, I'm glad to hear."
Swatting me on the shoulder, Luna smiles broadly. Our eyes meet, and then our lips, and I kiss my girl long and slow and deep. I kiss her so that she can feel how much I love her. I kiss her so our unborn child will know too.
And when I feel that I've made my boys wait long enough without news, I put a single message on our group chat—Luna's pregnant. We're going to be daddies. And I wait for six heads to explode!
32
LUNA
I’m pregnant.
I still can’t believe it. The doctor’s words didn’t register at first. It was only when he left that it hit me.
A wave of panic so strong that it stole my breath until Hudson held me close and told me everything I needed and wanted to hear.
I’m pregnant, and it’s going to change everything. If I’m well enough, I might be able to finish this tour, but the timings for recording another album will be difficult, and who knows if Blueday will be interested in continuing to push my career. Do I even want them to?
I know there are women out there who are moms and still killing it in their careers. There are pop stars and celebrities who take their kids with them on tour and somehow manage to do it all. I’m sure they have a lot of help, which is fine. I’m sure they feel torn between the two loves in their life because how could they not?
I felt torn enough when Connor and my boys were forced to leave me. I felt torn over whether I should pursue my career or pursue the men that I wanted. I guess when it came down to it, I just didn’t feel secure enough about their feelings for me. But now Hudson has told me they love me. He’s told me they would want to be there for the baby, and he said it all in a way that didn’t feel as though it was pressuring me to do anything.
He acknowledges that the decision about the baby has to be mine. What he doesn’t know is that I would have wanted to have my baby whether my men wanted me to or not.
I grew up a child of parents who never showed me that they valued that role. They always put themselves and their addictions first. Their lives were not anchored to mine in any way. But even though this baby is tiny, and even though I’ve only known about it for a few hours, I feel completely tethered to it already.
I just want to be a good mom. I want to give this child everything that I didn’t have. Safety and security. Love that fills their heart. Enough money to always be able to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. Daddies who will love them.
“Are you ready to go?” Hudson asks, appearing through the gap in the curtain. I nod, standing slowly just in case I get lightheaded again, and he rushes to my side to take my arm.
“Woahhh…that’s some kind of dress you have on.”
“I came straight from the show,” I say, looking down at my ridiculous attire. If I could, I would have left the hospital in a gown. At least I would have drawn less attention.
“Here.” Hudson takes off his jacket and helps me slide my arms into the warm sleeves. Hugging it around myself, I hook my arm into his.
“Didn’t you have a purse?” he asks.
“Nope. Who needs a purse when you have seven bodyguards to patrol your every move and a stalker to make eating and drinking a dangerous activity?”
When Hudson’s jaw ticks, I can see how affected he is by the current situation. They were possessive and protective before, but now I have their baby in my womb. I’m anticipating their need to keep me safe will be even stronger.
As we walk down the hallway, my bodyguards fall into step, and at the door, the sight that meets us is ridiculous. Five more bodyguards flank the door, and the other six men who hold my heart in their hands wait behind. Their faces are all marred with worry, eyes searching me over to find any injury or hurt. Hudson’s told them about the pregnancy, but we won’t get a chance to talk about it now.
I wish we could. I wish they could all wrap their arms around me and confirm what Hudson told me.
Instead, fourteen men escort me from the hospital into the waiting vehicles outside.
Mr. Wright attempts to shoulder Hudson out of the way, but there’s no way he’s letting me out of his sight. Sliding into the limousine after me, he sits close, throwing his arm around my shoulders so that the other bodyguards who climb in get the picture. His body language is screaming out that I’m his girl.
When we pull up to the hotel, there are fans and photographers waiting. Hudson gets out of the car before me, already flanked by the new bodyguard team. Before I have a chance to panic, he scoops me into his arms, and I bury my face into his neck, using a hand to cover myself as much as possible. He strides into the hotel as though I weigh nothing, his heart beating a steady pace against my skin.
“Are you okay?” he says.
“Yes.” I tell him, holding on tighter around his neck. We’re in the elevator in less than a minute, and then I can relax. “You can put me down now.”
“No chance.” He smiles down at me, his honey-colored eyes so warm that I feel as though I could rest in their attention forever and never need another thing.
“Blueday is going to have a shit fit when they hear that you guys are back.”
“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe they’ll realize that you need us, with a baby on the way.”
“It’s hardly on the way. Eight months is a long time. And anyway, not all pregnancies work out.”
“You have to be positive, Luna. Imagine the best, and it’ll happen.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you to be a believer in manifestation.”