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mariaofdoranelle · 1 month

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Look at Us Now - ch. 27

Fic masterlist

Guys it’s 3 a.m. I’m posting my 1st draft and hoping for the best love y’all

Warnings: NSFW, Remelle and other bombs

Words: 3,7k

Aelin could kill Rowan right now, as he placed featherlight kisses on her shoulder.

“Go away,” she grumbled while burrowing herself further under the covers.

“Baby…” Rowan kissed her neck now, tugging her body into the hard lines of his. “You were the one who—“

“Don’t.” With graceless movements, she turned to be face-to-face with him. “You’re being a jerk right now, you know that?”

He chuckled, amusement crinkling his eyes. “I’m a jerk for doing as I’m told?”

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“It’s 4:48 a.m.,” Alexa replied.

Aelin readjusted the covers so the only thing visible was her glare.

Yes, it was technically her idea, but how dare he follow up with her plan. Sometimes 24 hours a day is not enough to raise a five-year-old, take care of yourself, work, and romance your partner—hence why last night, when Aelin was so tired her eyes felt glued together, she told Rowan to wake her up earlier to have sex.

Yes, they’ve struggled to find time for each other the last couple of weeks, but that does not excuse Rowan for agreeing to wake Aelin up before 5 a.m. He should know better.

She squeezed her eyes shut, his arms an okay weight around her—she was still mad—as Aelin tried to fall back asleep. And failed. She tossed and turned on bed, chasing her own sleep, to no avail.

“Fireheart,” Rowan said after she wiggled for the millionth time.

She hid her face on his chest and groaned. “I can’t sleep.”

“Does that mean we’re having sex?”

Her glare was answer enough.

A chuckle. “C’mere,” Rowan said, and combed his fingers through her hair, soothing her with gentle caresses.

Shit, those were always nice. She let out a satisfied sigh. “I love you.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“But I’ll love you again after 7, so I might as well say it now.”

A pleased hum. “I love you.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you.” Her jaw. “I love you.” Her neck.

Aelin shivered. “You better.”

“Is that so?” Rowan said before turning his pecks into an open-mouthed kiss.

Her breath hitched, and she he arched her neck further to him. Once Rowan had so easily ignited her desire in a way only he could, Aelin grasped the back of his head and said, “May I?”

“So polite,” he said with a satisfied smirk, so Aelin lifted Rowan’s T-shirt she wore and directed his mouth to her bare breast.

Without ceremony, he licked her tit and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, earning a moan from her.

“You alright, Ae?” The glint in his eyes said he liked it too much.

“A bit sensitive,” she rasped. “Must be gettin’ my period soon.”

Rowan hummed and slid his full hand up her other breast, gently squeezing her nipple between his knuckles as he did it, focused on Aelin’s needy reactions. “Not too much?”

“Go on.”

He did, with gentle caresses at first that easily evolved into rough massages and flicks of his tongue against her. Aelin was taken over by Rowan above her and the waves of pleasure he gave her, squirming under his touch to his delight.

When Aelin was certain she could die from this nipple play alone, Rowan moved down her body, hooked her legs over his shoulder, and licked a strip between her folds without ceremony. Aelin’s muffled groans intensified when he applied more pressure with his flat tongue to her clit, and by the time he teased her entrance with his finger, it became a full curse.

“You wanna wake our kid at 5, hun?” Rowan said with no small amount of amusement.

Shit. Not now, and not in the next few hours, if they were lucky. Aelin would combust soon, either from an orgasm or frustration if the first didn’t happen.

“That’s what I thought.” He pecked a freckle on her hipbone. “Be a good girl for me, will ya?”

Aelin nodded, and felt herself melt and tense at once from Rowan’s tongue back on her pussy.

He worked her with nice and slow strokes, applying just the right amount of pressure in all the right places—how his tongue fell against her clit, or his fingers on her hips—Rowan knew her body that well. Aelin was nothing but the embodiment of sweet surrender, letting him set the pace and meeting him with needy jolts of her hips and soft whimpers that tightened his hold on her.

“Fuck, Ro,” she pleaded. No matter how much she muffled them, the sounds of her pleasure still echoed through the room. “You eat me out so good, babe.”

“Quiet, love,” he whispered while moving to muffle her moans with his mouth, leaving his fingers to work her cunt—two inside, thumb on her clit.

She felt her own taste on his tongue, and all off a sudden it was too much. Too much of him, too much of how he made her feel, and her pleasure felt like dam about to burst.

“It’s—“ Aelin gasped, that building tension in her hips tighter each moment. “It’s your fault I’m loud.” Her breath hitched. “You know it is.”

“Fuck- I know.” His kiss was quick and rough this time. “I know, baby.”

Aelin’s orgasm came in a slow burst, carefully built by Rowan’s fingers. Her gut tightened, back arched, and she came undone with stifled noises under him.

Rowan watched it with the same kind of focus he always did, enthralled and a bit wrecked himself by the results of his work.

After the crash, he nestled her against his chest with such tenderness, it was a startling contrast to the version of him that usually manhandled her in bed.

Aelin sighed against his chest, feeling dozy. “Just you wait for me to fuck your brains out, Rowan Whitethorn.”

He shushed her. “Later.”

She hummed questioningly, eyes heavier each moment.

“You wanted to sleep,” he whispered before giving her a forehead kiss.

Oh. She’d forgotten about it halfway through his tit play, though it does feel nice, his hand in her hair like this, after an orgasm with the sun still out.

It kinda makes her body feel a bit heavier, especially the eyelids.

˜˜

Aelin might as well be sleeping still, now that she was currently hearing a famous phrase from some nightmares of hers.

“Mommy, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeeease,” Maisie said, for the millionth time in the last half-hour.

Bringing the kid to do groceries was a lose-lose situation: Aelin was either denying her candy or foods with a cartoon character in the packaging while simultaneously avoiding a tantrum, or freaking out because where the hell did my kid run off to if she’s not harassing me for candy.

This was of the reasons why Aelin and Rowan preferred taking her to the big convenience store closest to their house—that was big enough to look like a mini supermarket—Maisie didn’t have much lengths to run off here; the other reason being the proximity and how much they dreaded Doranelle City’s traffic.

There was the downside of most certainly meeting someone from work since they were neighbors in one big military housing area, but you win some, you lose some.

Maisie was still giving her puppy eyes, one hand holding a pack of gummy bears, and a hand basket she picked at front with sly intentions in the other.

Squinting her eyes at this cunning little thing she birthed, Aelin picked the pack from Maisie’s hand. The little girl watched with blatant anticipation as her mom examined this specific request.

Fuck, the kid picked the good shit this time. Maybe if Aelin and Maisie shared… no.

“I don’t think so, Maisy Daisy,” she said with a kind of heartbreak her daughter wouldn’t understand.

The girl’s face fell. “But I said please!”

“I know, honey, you were very polite about it, but—” Because Aelin was really looking forward for those gummy bears too, an idea came up. “I’ll let you choose between this and the sour one.”

The little girl frowned at the candy already secured in her basket. Maisie didn’t exactly like this, but it was enough to make her weight her options and courses of action. Then, she tilted her chin up in a defiant manner and took the candy back from Aelin’s hand.

“Are you putting it back on the shelf?”

“I’m shopping with Daddy.”

Weird. She must be really upset with Aelin with make such a request. Maisie might not know how to read big words properly, but she was an expert already on what to ask each parent to get exactly what she wants—Aelin didn’t trust Rowan to deny his daughter a new dog or a trip to Disneyland, but a sugar overdose? There was a reason why their kid initially chose to stay close to Aelin’s cart, not her dad’s.

Still, she made sure Maisie put the gummy bears back where they belonged, then escorted her to Rowan’s cart.

“You’re done already?” he asked before placing a kiss on Aelin’s cheek.

“Nope, she’s just upset she doesn’t have pediatric diabetes yet.”

Rowan chuckled, gave Aelin a forehead kiss, and resumed his shopping.

She left them to it and ventured to the fruit aisle, wondering about how they’ve been doing two separate groceries for the same family, along with: twice the electricity bill, twice the cleaning chores and house maintenance, twice the streaming—those greedy little bitches—subscriptions.

But that’s how they’ve decided to do so far, so Aelin focused back on the fruit, making some mental math on how much she should buy for one day and a half—she’d be staying at Rowan’s for three days after that time, according to Maisie’s custody schedule, so the fruit would rotten before she got back.

Aelin eyed the bananas again—they were being sold in hands of six. There was absolutely no way the three of them would tackle six bananas in less than 48h. If they were together in one house, just one banana hand would suffice. The small bunch would feel like enough, and there’d be no need to separate the bananas.

Aelin could break it and leave the other half at Rowan’s place, yes, but she liked to keep the bananas together, the hand whole. As if it wasn’t enough that they’ve been separated from the tree before the bananas were mature enough to be a proper hand, now the bananas she had were to be broken into smaller pieces.

A little lump swelled on Aelin’s throat, and she looked up, taking a deep breath. She would not cry. Not here, not now. Not ever, if a banana was the subject of her tears.

“So.” A comfortable weight fell on her back. “Are we just staring at the bananas, or…?”

Aelin chuckled, hoping it didn’t come out too watery. She saw Maisie choosing yoghurts down the aisle and leaned her head again Rowan’s shoulder, finally able to quiet her mind once he was near.

“I wanna move in together.”

And just like that, Aelin popped that question at the fruit section of the convenience store. Peak romance.

“I don’t know, Fireheart.” Rowan let out his pre-sass sigh. “I think I’m too comfortable mowing two lawns and ironing my uniform twice because it got rumpled in my bag.”

Aelin chuckled. She squeezed his hand, he squeezed it back, and apparently the deal was sealed.

“Is that why you were… having a moment?”

Rowan knew better than to drop an ‘about to cry’. Neither of them were criers, and no matter how far they’ve come with therapy, Aelin was still very private about her crying.

“It was because of the bananas. Don’t ask.”

Following her order, he fished a familiar pack of gummy bears from inside his cart. “Someone hid this between my stuff. She’s trying to outsmart us, Ae.”

Aelin laughed and took the candy from his hand. “Her problem that she thinks she’s the only smart person in that house.”

“She won’t outsmart you, though—I hope. You’ve probably tried every trick in the book your entire childhood.”

Yes, though while Aelin had two gay uncles that fell into parenthood by accident and were permissive out of pity for losing her parents too young, Maisie had two living parents so intent on parenting her, they tore each other apart.

With a sigh that came from the weariest corners of her soul, she repeated that same old thing inside her head: one day, Maisie would be glad she didn’t develop pediatric diabetes at five years old—that day was not today.

They looked over at her, and she was still at the yoghurt section, sliding her index finger over the refrigerator’s glass door with intense concentration.

“You think she’s reading?”

Their baby was about to finish preschool. They were finding it hard to get used to Maisie trying to decode letters and syllables she finally understood, her little finger underlining words as if it was a requirement for reading.

“Yeah,” Rowan replied with an awed look. “Did you get everything?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Me too.” He looked over at where Maisie was again. “Do you think I should…?”

“Don’t interrupt her!” Aelin whisper-yelled. She waved the gummy bears at him. “I’m gonna put those back. Wait here.”

Aelin did as she told, taking some time to look at the women’s toiletries on sale before meeting Rowan again.

But maybe she took too much time, because when Aelin came back, there was a blonde woman clinging on Rowan’s forearm like a monkey to a banana tree. He looked uncomfortable,

There was something familiar about this woman, but Aelin couldn’t place it in the time she rushed to join them.

“Dr. Galathynius!” the woman said with faux enthusiasm at the same time Aelin recognized those cerulean blue eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, realization washing her over like a tsunami.

This was the skank she caught flirting with Rowan last year.

Also, one of the doctors from Air Force General. A dermatologist, why they rarely crossed paths—her department was so peaceful it felt like a whole different hospital.

Dr. Remelle Wiselheade could as well be part of the long-gone Doranellian nobility—it didn’t change the fact that she had her chickenish long fingers clawed around Rowan.

“Oh, hi.” Without faking enthusiasm, Aelin extracted Remelle’s hand from her man’s arm, but not without making the point of taking a look at the wedding band on her finger. “How’s your husband doing?”

Remelle didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes were between Rowan, Aelin and Maisie—who looked like a mix of them both. When the pieces fell into place in her mind, she widened her eyes in surprise with a poisonous smile. “I’m finally putting faces to the stories now! It’s hard to believe you’re the reason for all that fuss,” she told Aelin.

The story, meaning whatever people said about her past with Rowan, especially the context in which Maisie came to be. Aelin wasn’t ashamed of it, but the way Remelle brought it up made her want to claw the woman’s eyes out.

“We should go.” Rowan’s jaw was tight, and Aelin had to give it to him: he really did try hard to act polite when Maisie was near. Mala knew this wasn’t his best skill.

“Of course.” Remelle aimed a sly grin at Rowan and said, “Nice seeing you again.”

Rowan blinked, his mouth ajar. Aelin thought he had frozen for feeling annoyed or offended at the blatant flirting, but he tilted his head in pure confusion and said, “Have we met before?”

“Of course, silly!” She casually pointed her index finger at Aelin. “And I’ve been meaning to stop by at ortho! I’ve been getting some awful scar management cases from your post-op patients.”

“I’m so surprised to hear that,” Aelin replied, her jaw hurting from the fakest smile she’s ever wore—it was either that or clock the bitch in the face. The worst part was that she wasn’t sure if Remelle was lying to get under her skin, or if she was getting called out for the dumbasses from her department.

“Honestly, I don’t know what could’ve had happened. Maybe I didn’t double-check my resident’s sutures because I was distracted by the huge pimples on my patient’s face.”

Not a chance this would’ve happened, but Aelin still did a mental note to talk about this to her residents. Possibly with a scolding involved.

Remelle continued, “I don’t mean to tell you how to perform your surgeries, but—“

“You do surgee too?” Maisie asked, only now paying attention to the adults.

The woman frowned at the little girl, taken aback. “Well, no, but—“

“Uncle Orlon did a surgee too, he—“

“He didn’t do the surgery, honey, he—“ Aelin interrupted.

“He had a little bump sucked out of his butt!” Maisie shouted with newfound excitement after listening to the grown-up talk for so long.

Remelle was dead on her tracks, eyes widened with horror at the incredibly unpolished little girl.

“It’s true!” Maisie continued, flailing her arms around with big gestures because she thought the woman’s shock was out of doubt. “He had hemmy-roys! I know because I went to his house and he had a pillow with a hole in it, so I asked him, Uncle Orlon, why is your pillow so unfluffy? And he told me…”

Maisie went on and on, not caring about anyone’s sensibilities as she told Remelle about Orlon’s hemorrhoids in great detail. Fascinating subject for a five-year-old, or maybe just Aelin’s five-year-old. The woman looked frozen, but Aelin refused to believe it was disgust—Remelle might be a dermatologist, but she did go to med school after all. There was no way she was disgusted at a kid’s story about an elderly relative’s hemorrhoids.

“…And now he’s doing a lot better, but his husband has to put cream on his bum every day, and he needs to eat a lot of fruit so it doesn’t hurt when he poops.”

Remelle blinked. “I see.”

“And now we really have to go,” Rowan said. He couldn’t sound less apologetic. “Mais, wanna see how fast you can get to the cashier?”

“Race you!” She shouted and shot down the aisle.

Her parents quickly bid their farewells. Remelle just mumbled a goodbye, the same weirded-out look still on her face when they last saw her.

“Where’re my gummy bears?” Maisie asked at the checkout.

Mother and daughter stared at each other. Maisie knew those gummy bears she smuggled in her dad’s cart weren’t approved, and she knew her mother knew what she did. Aelin knew Maisie knew she knew. On the sidelines of the interaction, Rowan pretended he didn’t know what was going on.

Neither of the three dared say a word. The ride home was remarkably peaceful.

˜˜ “Rowan.” Aelin tried to sound stern, but she liked it too much when he was being playful like this.

In her kitchen, he held her hostage in his arms while she protested, saying she needed to put the groceries away. Her captor was unrelenting, kissing her neck and telling her he needed her now.

“We should meet halfway,” he conceded. “We put away just the fridge stuff and go to your room. How about that?”

However, they had already used most of Maisie’s very limited screen time to do this quickly at his house, putting away his groceries, then came to her place do the same thing. The kid’s TV show episode could end at any given moment, and Aelin better be done by the time it happens.

When she reminded him as much, his small whine was absolutely adorable.

Rowan was undeterred, though. “We live together now. Don’t I have a say in the house rules?”

No, but that brought a small smile to her lips. “Are you okay, though? With living together now.”

They hadn’t had much to talk about that, and she knew the logistics weren’t simple.

“I want everything, Aelin, and I want it for yesterday.” He shuddered out a long breath, and she tried not to read too much into how he tugged her closer from behind, encasing her in his embrace with one thumb brushing her lower belly. “But some of it is just me—stuff I didn’t get to do. Guilt. I’m still sorting that out. And I’m much more comfortable just following your pace, at least for now.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Aelin sighed. “We have a lot to talk about, but we really do need to put away these.”

He groaned, but picked up a plastic bag to help.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we sort things out, and the sooner we move in together.”

They worked together in silence, quickly tackling bag after bag so they could repeat the same thing in Rowan’s place.

“Fireheart?” Rowan handed her one bag. “I think this goes in your room.”

“Oh.” Aelin eyed the menstrual pads inside. “I found these on sale, they were such a steal!”

Amusement crinkled his eyes. “That’s great, babe.”

She always perked up when she found pads on sale, Aelin thought as she went to her room. She was terrible at tracking her own period, so she bought pads at random and had a stock ready whenever she needed them.

Aelin opened her ensuite’s cabinet door and—

Weird.

Her stock was nearly overflowing.

Weirdweirdweird. Aelin’s heartbeat shot up before she could properly process what was going on.

She didn’t keep good track of her period, but her pads and tampons always kept to a certain amount, but this… this looked almost as if Aelin hasn’t had her period for a while.

Weird.

Aelin took one step back. Another.

Naps with Fleetfoot. Crying over bananas. After-pizza sickness. Fuck.

Time slowed down and everything felt to physically distant—Aelin felt like she was suspended in a void, no solid footing as she walked to the kitchen where she left her things.

“Where’re you going?” Rowan asked when she had her purse and car keys in hands.

“I forgot to buy something.”

“Want some company?”

“No, I—“ Aelin closed her mouth. Smiled. “Just buying some vitamins,” she half-lied.

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mariaofdoranelle · 3 months

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Look at Us Now - ch. 26

Fic masterlist

Did I just rearrange my outline to add a filler chapter inspired by this incredible art by @sassyhobbits? Yes, yes I did.

Warnings: disgustingly lovesick Lorcan

Words: 2,3k

Aelin had only realized she’d taken a nap when she woke up from it. Not that it was a big surprise, given how shitty she was feeling today, but she still woke up feeling a little lost.

At the exact same time, she noticed the lack of light leaking through the curtains and two deep voices coming from the living room.

Salvaterre was still here.

Elide left for a conference two days ago, and suddenly Lorcan was everywhere. The man said Charlie could use a playdate with Maisie because he missed his mom, but he couldn’t fool anyone with that lost puppy aura he exhaled whenever his wife wasn’t within a 10-meter radius.

Aelin groaned, blindly searching for her phone on Rowan’s side of the bed. He wasn’t there to cuddle her while she woke up from her nap, and it was on Lorcan—no, not because Aelin and Rowan were both busy adults responsible for an unruly child, it was truly all Lorcan’s fault.

She opened DAFriends and Dorian, the gang’s groupchat named by Fenrys after one of his many jokes about his partner being the only one that never served in the Doranellian Air Force.

Aelin: Elide

Aelin: Please come pick your child

Aedion: oh no

Aedion: whatever charlie did

Aedion: my bets are on maisie tricking him into it

Aelin: i meant lorcan.

Lorcan: Fuck you.

Elide: I wish I could [tired emoji]

Aelin put her phone down, wrapped the baby blue microfiber blanket around herself and left for the living room. However, an odd sight made her stop, peering from the hallway to further study the scene before her.

Maisie, Charlie, Lorcan and Rowan were gathered on the floor, around the short coffee table—the kids elegantly sat, and both men hunched around it; the table’s usual decoration was exchanged for a baby pink tablecloth, accompanied by milk, cookies, and plastic tableware. Both kids had light makeup and toy accessories on, from candy rings to princess pretend jewelry, but the dads were the real showstopper.

Watching oh-so-stoic Rowan dressed up for whatever Maisie made him play along, beaded necklaces and all, wasn’t a rare sight, even if it would be forever amusing.

But Lorcan?

Major Salvaterre, a commanding officer capable of making military men cry, had just been caught at a princess tea party, being warned by his son to not ruin the makeup as he ate, while wearing a plastic crown and a pink feather boa.

And the icing on the cake was that Aelin couldn’t even be mad that the kids took her incredibly expensive makeup without her permission, because they absentmindedly made their dads look like horror movie dolls.

“Charles,” Maisie called in a voice that was likely an attempt to sound serious and sophisticated, but that was not the main concern here. Who the fuck was Charles? Her friend’s name was just Charlie.

She continued, “Why did the T-Rex walk on the side of the road?”

The boy tilted his head with a grave expression. “Why?”

“Because of cars, of course.”

Charlie tilted his head back in a strong and slightly forced way; it might not be his intention, but he sounded like a cartoon villain laughing. Then, “Very funny, Maisianne.”

Rowan straightened his posture and added, “I found it highly amusing, Maisy Daisy.”

Lorcan nodded. “Very important for T-Rex safety.”

He looked at Rowan, who easily met his gaze. Whatever the men were thinking, their exchange was indecipherable, somewhere between amusement and embarrassment and resignation and whatnot.

Whatever they were feeling, Aelin knew they’d never bring this up again—thank Mala she saw it, then. And took a picture.

She stepped into the living room to make her presence known.

“Purple eyeshadow suits you, Salvaterre.”

“Glad I pulled it off, Lieutenant.” He looked at her up and down with complete indifference. “I’d say the same, but I think the kids put it in under your eyes instead.”

Bastard.

It was like something clicked inside Rowan’s head, and he immediately looked up to assess her. “You’re felling better, honey?”

“Kind of.” She sat on the couch with her legs crossed, still wrapped on her blanket. “I want pepperoni pizza.”

The kids cheered and the men silently consented, but even if they protested, it was three against two now. Pizza won, always.

Fleetfoot settled on the couch with her and the others resumed their tea party, but Lorcan wouldn’t stop checking his phone. It’d be silly to even wonder whose reply he was waiting for.

Aelin teased, ��You’re the first man ever to get abandoned during a pregnancy. I wonder why.”

Lorcan averted his eyes from the phone, sending a thunderous look that never worked on her. “I’m trying to look after my pregnant partner, not that you’d understand.”

“You’re right. I’ll make sure to apologize when I knock Rowan up.”

Rowan’s reaction was nothing more than a short guttural sound, as he made sure that snicker died halfway on his throat and looked down with clamped lips, trying not to upset his friend further.

Aelin could assume Lorcan’s agony was kinda cute, but that hovering would leave her insane if she was in Elide’s shoes. Yes, the woman was pregnant, but Lorcan’s incredibly smart and healthy wife wasn’t in real danger during a medical conference, surrounded by other doctors.

Maisie cut in with, “Uncle Lorcan, Mom said you’re getting a boy.” Maisie looked between him and Charlie with a wrinkled nose. “Why are you always planting boys on Auntie Ellie?”

Aelin’s eyes went wide. “Maisie, he can’t choose that!”

“Yes, he can!” The little girl huffed. “Like how Daddy picks if he’s planting a kingsflower or a daisy—when he plants the seed in your belly again, I want him to plant another girl.”

“Honey, you can’t choose if—“

“I don’t wanna live with a boy!”

“Ouch,” Rowan said, clutching his pearls—beaded necklaces, in that case.

Aelin sighed. “That babies and gardening thing we told you was more like a metaphor, love.”

Maisie frowned. “A meteor?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the pizza delivery guy’s arrival, and Aelin couldn’t be more relieved. She’d take any chance to escape some of her daughter’s questions.

The pizza box was placed at the tea party table where the milk and cookies used to be, but the dads’ excitement to eat was interrupted by a horror-filled silence.

Lorcan tilted his head, trying to understand what was placed in front of him. “Is that…?”

“Pepperoni,” Aelin said, grinning like the devil. “With a Nutella stuffed crust.”

She rolled the rest of the pizza around its crust, making a bulky roll out of the slice, and put as much as she could into her mouth. The pepperoni’s spice clashed directly with the Nutella’s sweet hazelnut, the cheese balancing both with that mild texture. Along with it, she got one of Maisie’s grape juice boxes for herself.

Fucking perfect. Aelin leaned back on the couch, eyes briefly falling closed with bliss.

When she opened them back up, it was to meet Lorcan’s horrified gaze—which was slowly aimed at Rowan, who just shrugged and cut the chocolate off his slice.

He waved it at Aelin. “Want my crust, babe?”

“Me!” Maisie said, making a grabbing gesture.

Rowan obliged, then jutted his chin towards his girlfriend. “Next one’s yours.”

Good. A Nutella stuffed crust would go wasted with a chocolate hater like him.

But something must’ve gone wrong because, soon after Aelin ate her three slices plus two crusts given by Rowan, it seemed like that food wasn’t settling well in her stomach.

That little discomfort burned more by the minute, so Aelin pressed one of the couch’s pillows against her stomach, her teeth ground together. The food threatened to revolt and come back up, making her wince, which didn’t go unnoticed by Rowan.

Her boyfriend was by her side in a second, assessing every sign of distress. “What’s going on?”

She nodded. “Just a little indigestion, I—“

Maisie stood on her mother’s other side, wide green eyes cautiously assessing her. “Mommy, you okay?”

Aelin pushed the pain aside to give her daughter a nod and a grin. “Perfect. I can do it with a tummy ache.”

She excused herself to leave for the bathroom and sat on the floor, next to the toilet just in case. Her stomach felt like a boiling cauldron of corrosive acid that was about to eat her whole, and Aelin was taking deep breaths, stars bursting behind her eyelids as cold sweat broke out on her skin.

Aelin didn’t know how long it’d been when two knocks on the door caught her attention. To her surprise, it was Lorcan, holding out a yellow-ish glass of water.

She eyed it suspiciously, but took it. “This water isn’t crystal clear.” Aelin held it up against the light and squinted an eye at it. “This isn’t poisoned, right? You sure you’re not trying to finish the job?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “It’s ginger water. It helped Elide with the…” he trailed with a sudden inquisitive look, “nausea stuff.”

He walked out of the toilet as quickly as he entered, but Aelin could still hear him say, “I hope you didn’t knock her up, man, because there’s still time to bail.”

“Shut your mouth, you twerp!” Aelin shouted from the bathroom, the kid-appropriate insults easily rolling off her tongue.

That wasn’t her preferred choice of drink, but Aelin felt like she didn’t have much of a choice now. She gulped what she deemed enough, then a little more when Rowan walked inside to check on her.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked while sitting beside her on the floor.

She shrugged. “It’s manageable.”

He slowly nodded, his gaze fixed on a tiny crack on the bathroom tile. Aelin gave him space to process his thoughts, knowing it was a matter of time before he said, “About what Lorcan said before…” A frown. “You’re not, right?”

Knocked up, he meant.

“I’m not, baby,” she replied with a small smile, because it was such Rowan thing to fret over one single nausea episode.

He hummed and scooted close enough to wrap one arm around Aelin. “I know we’re working on our timing, but I wouldn’t mind it, you know? If you were…”

“Yeah, me too. It’d be good news.” Aelin nuzzled where his chest met his shoulder, both still sat on the bathroom floor.

“Incredible news.” He pecked her head, and Aelin knew there was still something brewing in that mind of his. A moment later, he continued, “How did you know it with Maisie? Not how did you find out, but like, what gave it away?”

“Nothing. I found out because of an exam. It was pretty random, actually—I didn’t even believe it at first.”

Rowan jerked upwards, his pine-green eyes wide as saucers and fully aimed at her. “Nothing? You had absolutely no clue you were pregnant until it was shoved at your face?”

“Yeah, I dunno.” She tilted her head, flooded with memories of that time of her life. “I was having military training fourteen hours a day, every day. That can be as physically straining as producing a tiny human. But I got my last period…” Aelin looked upwards, lips pursed as she tried to recall this piece of information with accuracy. “Recently.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” Her boyfriend was still, raptly watching her.

A chuckle. “Let’s say it’s statistically unlikely that I’m pregnant right now.”

“Very well, then,” Rowan said, that frown being replaced by a soft smile. They settled that way, hanging on to each other while he played with the ends of her hair.

To be honest, Aelin wasn’t worried about getting pregnant right now. When you finish a certain age of girlhood—the one when pregnancy is a frightening thing that puts your name in everyone’s lips and allegedly ruins your life—your worst nightmare might become something you really want, and you realize it’s harder to achieve than you previously thought.

Accidents still happened, Maisie being one of them, but for most of her friends, having a kid on your 30’s takes actively trying for months or even years, not just neglecting condoms by choice every now and then, after less than four months together with your partner.

“I thought that little hellion two doors down had made your hair gray enough already,” Aelin teased, thinking about what was ahead of them. What she knew they both wanted in a near-ish future.

“About the kids…”

“Uh-oh. What now?”

“They asked to have a sleepover here.”

Aelin’s shoulders sagged with relief. Maisie’s news could be anything between spilled water and arson. “Yeah, of course. We can handle Maisianne and Charles,” she said, mocking their tea party’s fake names. “Just send his dad home.”

“About that…”

Oh no. “Spill.”

“Lorcan didn’t like the idea—maybe he didn’t want to be home alone? I dunno. The kids started a tantrum, so I ended up offering him Fenrys’ old room for tonight, that way he let Charlie stay.”

“Oh, come on!” Aelin gave him an incredulous glare. “Ellie’s in a four-day trip, her grown husband is not an abandoned puppy.”

Rowan gave her a pleading look. “But he looks so miserable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Only because I think his ginger thing is actually working.”

“You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to know if it works or not.”

A shrug. “I’m an orthopedist. It’ll only be my business when I start throwing up bones.”

“Yet, you use the I’m a doctor card whenever it suits you.”

“Whenever you’re being an overbearing fussy Buzzard, you mean.” Aelin snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s frame.

“Yep,” he said around a smile, “And I’ll be exactly that now that you’re sick and Lorcan’s babysitting.”

“If he doesn’t have a nightmare about his wife and ends up cuddling with you at night, you mean.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Rowan chuckled, his eyes filled with something molten as he gazed at her.

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