by Kate Benson
“I think we’re about an hour and a half away,” he admits, making my features fall. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m sure there’s one closer if we need it.”
“Okay,” I nod quickly, blowing out once more before I release his hand. “It’ll probably still be a while anyway,” I rationalize, grateful when he nods his agreement. “I’m sure it’s fine. We just have to call the doctor and she’ll tell us what to do.”
I move to swing my legs into the car and gasp, knowing there’s no way I’m getting back inside. Not yet, anyway. He sees my discomfort and stills me when I try again, instead reaching into his back pocket for his phone.
“Dammit,” he hisses. “Where’s your phone, pussycat?”
“In my purse,” I reply, gesturing toward the back floorboard. He pulls it out and his reaction is the same. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Where the hell are you going?” I demand, watching him stand. “You can’t leave me here!”
“I’m not leaving you,” he promises, resisting the eye roll as he bends to kiss my forehead. “Mine’s about to die and yours doesn’t have service,” he explains, reaching around me to plug his into his charger before he faces me again. “I’m just gonna walk to the edge of the road and see if I can get a signal to call your doctor, okay?”
“Okay,” I breathe, my body tightening once more. “You’re coming right back, right?”
“Yes,” he nods immediately, stopping when he notices my wince. “Do I need to call 911?”
“I don’t think so,” I reply, gripping my belly.
“Do you want me to stay until it’s over?”
“No, I’ll be okay,” I manage. “Please just hurry.”
“My phone is right behind you,” he assures me, and I nod my understanding before I push him away and gesture toward the road.
With another kiss to my forehead, he releases a low sigh and turns away, running toward the highway.
dash
By the time I make it back to her, she’s having another contraction, the strongest yet, and I’ve gotten nowhere.
“What did she say?” Evie gasps, her fingernails digging into the edge of the seat.
“I couldn’t get through,” I admit, crouching in front of her. “This isn’t the same one, is it?”
“No,” she shakes her head, taking my hand when I offer it to her and pushing out another deep, cleansing breath. “They’re getting closer, though. I had another one while you were gone.”
“Do you want to try getting in the car again?” I ask and she nods, her eyes watering slightly as her features begin to return to normal.
She swings her legs and this time, the result remains the same.
“I don’t think I can,” she shakes her head, trying again. “Fuck!” she cries out. “My back is killing me. Every time I turn, it gets worse,” she continues. “What are we going to do?”
“It’s going to be okay,” I promise. “I’m going to try my phone again.”
I reach behind her, cussing when I find it somewhat charged, but also without a signal. When I pull back to face her, her features are contorting in pain once more.
I stay in place in front of her, giving her as much encouragement as I can until the worst of it is over and her eyes slowly blink back to mind mine.
“Evie,” I sigh, slowly shaking my head as I rest my hand on her belly. “I don’t think they’re going to wait for us to get back to Austin, pussycat.”
“Nope.”
“How close are they now?”
“Maybe two minutes? Probably less,” she admits. “Listen, I know this is late, but I think I changed my mind,” she gulps hard, facing me with tears in her eyes. “Let’s just leave them in.”
“Baby-”
“I don’t want to do this,” she shakes her head. “I knew it was going to hurt, but this is stupid, Dash,” she insists, her voice hitched in panic. “Let’s just leave them in there. They’ll be okay.”
“Evie, it’s gonna be fine,” I whisper, stroking her hair. “I’m going to call 911.”
“No!” she protests when I reach for the phone. “I don’t want to have my babies in an ambulance!”
“Do you want to have them at a rest stop on the side of the road?” I counter, watching her shake her head. “Then we agree.”
Despite the new contraction moving through her, she somehow manages to give me a dirty look that earns her an amused eye roll. I finish the call, discouraged when the information I have to give the operator isn’t nearly as much as I’d like. When I hang up, I turn back to face Evie and she lets out a low, pained sob.
“Pussycat,” I croon, reaching for her leg to give it a squeeze.
“Don’t touch me,” she manages, and I move away, watching her snap her eyes open as she grips my shirt and tugs me back. “That doesn’t mean leave!”
“I’m not,” I promise. “I’m right here, babe. Just tell me what you need.”
“Drugs,” she whines, making me smirk sadly as I hold her eyes in apology. “Can you just distract me or something?”
“Okay,” I nod, searching my brain for something, anything, to help her. I set my hands on either side of her on the seat, a low whimper leaving her lips as she grips her belly again.
“Baby!” she flinches, blowing out another deep breath. “Please stop fucking staring at me and say someth-”
“I’m sorry!” I cut her off, wiping my brow on my sleeve before I drop my gaze to the pavement below me, biting my lip in deliberation. “I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone, Evie,” I start, meeting her eyes, my gaze severe. “Say you swear, baby.”
“I swear,” she nods incessantly.
“Okay. Summer of tenth grade,” I start, releasing a deep sigh of my own. “Remember me and Mase used to go up to the pool every day?”
“Yeah,” she winces, her eyes lighting up slightly. “Is this the pool story?”
“Mhmm,” I nod slowly, blowing out another breath when she releases a pained squeal. “Baby, I swear to God, if you tell any-”
“I promise, I won’t,” she vows immediately, shifting once more in pain. “I probably won’t even remember.”
Trust me, I think as I pinch the bridge of my nose, mentally preparing for the impending humiliation. You’ll fucking remember.
“So, there was this girl,” I admit, finding her eyes and smirking when they narrow. “Don’t even remember her name, babe,” I promise as I raise my hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, I wanted to ask her out, but kept losing my nerve. The shit went on for like two weeks,” I explain, pausing slightly when she lets out a low whimper, encouraging her to breathe until it passes. “So, I told Mason one day I was gonna do it the next day when I saw her at the pool. He called bullshit, pissed me off, and the next day, I woke up sick. He showed up at the house and I told him what happened, but of course, he thought I was bailing so he gave me hell for like three days,” I shake my head at the memory, retro cursing my fifteen-year-old best friend. “Anyway, a few days later, I got up and was feeling better. He’d been giving me shit for most of the week, so I was determined to shut him up once and for all,” I continue. “So I called him up, told him to meet me up there. I heated up the last of the leftover spaghetti my mom left in the fridge and got ready. I was feeling the hell out of myself,” I admit. “But then we got there, I walked up to her, and just…”
“Just what?” she asks breathlessly as I trail off. “Did you puke?
“Nope,” I shake my head, my cheeks heating as I watch her eyes widen in understanding.
“Oh, my God!” she replies, her voice a combination between compassion at my most humiliating moment and relief as her pain begins to ease. “Is that why you hate spaghetti?”
“It is,” I admit, savoring in her deep, judgmental laughter as she leans her head against the seat.
“So, finish the story,” she says low, her lips still quirked up on either side as her contraction subsides. “What h
appened next?”
“What do you mean what happened?” I laugh. “I got the fuck out of there.”
“But I mean after,” she asks, her fingers lacing into mine. “Did you get the girl?”
“No, all I got that day was a doctors appointment thanks to my mom and some emotional abuse thanks to your brother,” I shake my head. “I avoided her like the plague after that.”
“Aww,” she whispers, still laughing. “Poor baby.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I shrug, my voice low as I hold her eyes. “I still ended up getting the right one.”
Her cheeks heat scarlet for a moment before her lips quirk up on either side and she gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Babe,” she whispers, the mock annoying tone making me smile wider as she leans up to press her lips to mine. “You’re so obsessed with me.”
“Mhmm,” I admit against her lips.
“My handsome little poop monster,” she giggles, making me pull away.
“We’re not fuckin’ doing that,” I object immediately as I shake my head, making her laugh loud enough that I can’t keep the chuckle from my lips. “Kiss my ass, baby.”
She laughs harder and I glance over my shoulder toward the entrance to the rest stop, hoping for any sign of the ambulance, but finding nothing. I’m about to ask her if she needs anything when her laughter fades and she grips my shirt, pulling my eyes to hers.
“Again?” I ask, pulling a nod from her.
“That last one never stopped all the way,” she winces as she shifts uncomfortably in the seat. “How long did the ambulance say?”
“They didn’t,” I admit, pulling a whimper from her chest. “I’m sure it’ll only be a few more minutes, baby.”
“I don’t have a few more minutes, Dash,” she shakes her head. “They’re coming now.”
“What?” I shout, moving to stand so I can get a better look at the entrance, but she yanks me back down. “Evie-”
“Now!” she pants, lifting her feet to the frame of my car, bracing herself with another deep breath. “Dash-”
“Oh, my God. You’re serious.”
“Do I look like I’m fucking with you?” she grates out, her blue eyes boring into mine as I reach for her bag and rip the zipper open.
“Okay,” I push out a breath. I grab the first thing I reach for, trying to place it under her onto the seat. “Here, baby. Raise u-”
“Are you seriously worried about your car right now?”
“No!” I promise immediately as I start looking around, trying my best to figure out what to grab. “Shit. Fuck.”
I’d always thought I was pretty good in emergencies.
I always believed when push came to shove, I could disconnect enough to get through any situation.
As my eyes find hers wild, my breathing falters and I realize immediately that was all bullshit.
Evie’s about to give birth to our babies on the side of the fucking road and all I’ve got is a pair of motherfucking sweatpants.
“Oh, fuck,” I pant, my breathing going completely unsteady as she begins to grow hazy. “Baby, I’m about to pass o-”
“No!” she shrieks, the sheer volume of her voice bringing me back to her as she reaches for the collar of my jacket and lurches me forward. “Look at me!” she shouts, her trembling features a half inch from my face as the contraction moves through her. Her voice lowers, instantly making my blood run cold. “Dash Michael Hunter, so help me Jesus, you’d better get it the fuck together,” she hisses. “I. Will. End. You.”
Holy shit.
Before I can say anything else, she releases me roughly and one of her legs lifts to the door handle.
“Oh, my God,” I swallow hard, my eyes falling on my happy place finding it anything but. “This is fucking happening.”
“You think?” she snaps, her voice quaking with pain.
“What do I do?” I ask, my own voice hitching. “We don’t have any hot water or-”
“Figure it the fuck out!” she cuts me off, her nails digging into the seat as she clenches her teeth, her eyes clamping shut as I reach into the bag once more. “Dash, I can’t wait anymore.”
“It’s okay,” I lie, my heart pounding. “I’m right here, princess. I’ve got you.”
“Ahh!” she cries out again, gripping the seat and bracing herself, her eyes shifting from pain to determination and right back to agony as she pushes out a deep breath and holds my eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” I nod, placing a random shirt in my lap, swallowing hard as I rest my palms on her thighs. “I’m ready, baby.”
She nods, closing her eyes and concentrating, my gaze shifting back to her for a moment before I glance down again and see the top of a head.
“Oh, my God!” I gasp, the volume of her pained screech vibrating around me. “ShitShitShit!” I chant. “Evie,” I whisper as she pulls another deep breath into her lungs. “I see hair.”
“Really?” she asks, her lips shifting into a small smile when I nod. “What color is it?”
“Light,” I manage. “Like yours.”
She lets out a whimper before bearing down once more. This time, she pushes hard enough for me to see a face beginning to emerge.
“You’re doing good, babe.”
“Fuck you!” Evie cries, her chest heaving as her teary gaze finds mine. “Oh, my God, Dash. You suck. You fucking suck, baby!” she sobs. “You motherfucker.”
“Keep going, pussycat,” I manage, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.
“Get off me!” she wails. “You’re getting a fucking vasectomy!”
“Whoa!” I start in immediate offense. “No, the hell I’m-”
“Shut up!” she demands. “You shut the fuck up! You don’t get to-” Her rant is cut short by another surge of pain that pulls a low sob from her chest. “Oh, my God,” she cries, making my chest clench. “I really might hate you right now.”
“Keep breathing, princess,” I encourage her. “You’re doing so good.”
“I can’t do it,” she sobs as she pulls in a deep breath and pushes through it, hard enough to raise from the seat. “I can’t – ahhh!”
Her scream is deafening this time, tearing through my heart. Yet, as I glance down and see shoulders, followed quickly by the rest, the whole world stops spinning.
And then another cry rings out that leaves both of us breathless.
Eyelashes.
“Baby,” I gasp, my throat immediately tight as I look down at what I’m holding. “Oh, my God, Evie,” I manage, the uncharacteristic sob slipping from my throat as he squirms in my arms. His little lungs cry out with his own immediate, inherited offense and I hold him close, unable to look away. “Evie, it’s a boy.”
“Really?” she asks, her voice broken on a sob, same as mine. “Let me see him,” she cries, and I raise to set him in her arms, watching her face shift once more as she takes him carefully, her adoring gaze overtaken with relief and joy despite the fresh onslaught of tears. “Hi, baby,” she cries. “Oh, you’re so handsome, my little sweet potato,” she croons, pressing her lips to his face. “My dashing Dallas Michael.” My chest constricts and my breathing catches with a combination of emotion and shock as I hear his name for the first time and I can’t help the tears that follow as I stare down at him in awe. “If that’s okay with Daddy?”
Daddy.
Oh, my God.
I nod dumbly, gripping her face and kissing her hair before I bend to do the same to his. My son. I rest my head against hers for a moment, emotion taking over as I watch them, his crying ceasing slightly as she gently rocks him in her arms.
“I love you,” I whisper, pulling her eyes to mine and she smiles.
“I love you, too.”
“I’m not even mad you cheated on your name,” I admit, pulling her eyes up in question.
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t look at my list?”
“No, w-?”
Her words are cut shor
t by another jolt that takes her breath. Immediately, she begins to shift again, the sound of a siren in the distance pulling her eyes to mine once more.
“They’re coming, Evie,” I promise, but she shakes her head and raises slightly. “I can hear them. They’re almost here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insists, her voice shaky as she reaches for me with another wince. “I have to push now.”
She carefully positions our son in my arms, making me promise three times I won’t drop him before she returns to her position. Her eyes hold mine for a moment, like before, and she shuts them tight, pushing as hard as she can. Baby number two comes faster, much like Evie’s profane threats to The Captain. In only two pushes this time, the top of another head appears and I gasp all over again.
“You’re doing great, pussycat,” I assure her, pressing my lips to the inside of her knee when she stops to pull in another breath and stares back at me, screeching out in pain. “You’re almost there. I can see the head!”
“Are they both okay?” she asks, and I nod.
“Everything’s fine, baby. Just keep pushing.”
“I am!” she cries out, and I watch our second baby’s head appear, a cry almost identical to the first following immediately after.
“Evie,” I cry, the sight of another face looking up at me making me breathless all over again. “Baby, you’re so close,” I manage. “I just need you to push like that one more time and I’m going to hand him to you.”
“Okay,” she nods quickly, gasping for air before she gives one final push.
I try to raise up in time to place our son onto her stomach, but potato number two comes out faster than I expect, landing directly into my bare hand.
“Oh, my God!” I call out, making Evie dart up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I shake my head, carefully placing our son into her arms before I glance down and release a teary smile. “She’s okay.”
“She?” Evie calls out as I reach for another piece of clothing from our bag to swaddle her, the sight of dark hair making my chest clench.
“Yes,” I laugh through my tears, pulling my eyes from her to face Evie. “We got one of each, babe.”