They still had debts, especially after Gwen’s latest visit to the hospital. It would take them at least a couple years to pay off everything, probably more.
What if I run out of money to help Ian? Brad didn’t want to think about it. He’d made a lump-sum payment last month, and taken fifty grand off Ian’s bills.
His bank account had suffered. Ian had looked at his bill in amazement, and it had been worth it to see his joy.
Brad couldn’t do more of that, though. He had just about fifteen grand left, and after the next payment, they’d probably be scrimping when they could.
Wish I was better than this. Wish I had more to help Ian with.
He was alpha, wasn’t he? He should be doing better than he was. Brad glanced around his house, wondering how much money he could’ve saved if he hadn’t spent it on the kitchen, and the living room, and everything. His heart sank.
Then, his phone buzzed.
I’m looking into McMillan’s tenure. It shouldn’t be difficult to remove his status.
That made Brad’s blood run cold.
I have nothing to do with him, Brad texted back. You’re better off letting him do his job.
He isn’t spectacular at that, either, Harold Saxon answered.
Brad closed his eyes, listening to Gwen’s fork clinking on her plate. It wasn’t Ian’s fault that he had been missing classes—Gwen’s health was more important.
When Harold stopped with the texts, Brad set his phone face-down on the counter, pulling out a chair across from Gwen. He didn’t have the power to influence his father’s decisions. Didn’t know how he could improve Ian’s standing with the chemistry department.
“Tell me something about Daddy that I don’t know,” Brad said.
Gwen looked thoughtfully at him. “Daddy likes chocolate cake.”
Brad laughed. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but he’d take it. The next time he was out shopping... maybe he’d get Ian a slice of cake.
“What’s your favorite place that you’ve visited with him?”
“The playground!” Gwen wriggled in her seat. “There’s one near the old apartment, it had swings and hippo slides. With water!”
“She means the water park,” Ian said, stepping into the kitchen.
Brad’s heart skipped. Ian’s awake.
Ian looked sleepy, his hair mussed, but his lips were curved in a smile. He was wearing a loose shirt, one that clung to his narrow shoulders and flowed around the bump of his belly.
At eighteen weeks, they couldn’t hug without Ian’s belly shoving against Brad’s hips. Brad reached out, and Ian stepped into his arms.
“Morning, Daddy!” Gwen said.
Brad glanced at her. “You know, if you’re calling both of us Daddy... it could get confusing.”
“Morning, hon.” Ian laughed, sliding his fingers through Brad’s hair. “Do you want to pick another name, Brad? Since I’m still Daddy.”
“You’re the best dad,” Brad murmured, kissing the bump of Ian’s belly. Ian blushed. Brad stuck his nose into Ian’s belly button, breathing in. “What about Papa? Does Papa sound better, Gwen?”
She tilted her head. “I think so.”
“So from today onward, you’ll call me Papa,” Brad said.
“Papa.” Gwen tried the name on her tongue, looking thoughtful. Brad’s heart swelled.
“There you go,” Ian murmured. “It’ll probably be less confusing that way.”
“With the new one, too.” Brad kissed Ian’s belly. Met Ian’s eyes, and looked sideways, at Gwen. “You gonna tell?”
Ian bit his lip. They were still two weeks from the ultrasound. Until then, neither of them could tell if this new baby would be fine. It made Brad kind of nervous.
“Your belly’s big,” Gwen said, peering at them.
Ian exchanged an uncertain look with Brad.
“Go ahead,” Brad murmured. “I’m here.”
Ian wet his lips, squeezing Brad’s hand. “I’m pregnant with your baby brother, hon.”
Gwen stared at Ian’s belly. “Oh.”
“Do you want to touch him?” Ian asked.
Gwen hopped off her stool, padding over. With some trepidation, she poked at Ian’s belly. “It’s squishy.”
“He’s hidden inside,” Ian said, stroking her hair. “And he’ll be very helpless when he’s born. Will you keep an eye out for him? He’ll need all the help he can get.”
Gwen puffed her chest out. “Yeah, I’ll protect him. I’ll be an alpha!”
Brad grinned, and Ian cracked a smile. “Thank you,” Ian said. “And your Da—Papa and I will be so proud of you.”
Brad scooped Ian against him, kissing his belly.
“Will he have a heart defect like me, too?” Gwen asked.
It was an innocent question. Perfectly valid. But Ian froze against Brad, and Brad could already hear Ian’s mind totaling up the next bill. He wasn’t sure he could afford another child like that, himself.
Could he promise himself to Ian, knowing he couldn’t get Ian out of debt? But two parents were better than one, right?
Brad shoved away his worries, rubbing Ian’s back.
“He’ll probably be fine,” Brad said. “Maybe he won’t have a defect at all.”
Gwen nodded. She grabbed a crayon, and when Ian made a soft, surprised sound, Brad looked up.
He found four stick figures on Gwen’s drawing this time—there was a smaller child holding on to Ian’s other hand. A baby boy.
“Oh, Gwen,” Ian said, his voice strangled.
“That’s our family,” Gwen said proudly. “All of us!”
Brad stood. He scooped Ian close to himself, caught Gwen’s hand and tugged her off her stool. Then he danced slowly with his family in the kitchen, all four of them, Ian and Gwen with matching smiles on their faces.
They weren’t perfect, but to Brad, they were the best thing in the world.
22
Ian
Ian pushed open the door to Olivier’s strings, holding his breath. He’d never been here before. It felt a little awkward when the bells on the door jingled, announcing his arrival.
“Morning.” An omega waved cheerfully behind the glass counter. “I’m Olivier—give a yell if you need help.”
“Thanks,” Ian said, waving back.
He eased into the store, feeling lost. Musical instruments were unfamiliar to him; he’d been putting off this trip, afraid of buying the wrong thing.
Worse, Brad had probably forgotten that Ian wanted to buy the strings for him—it had been a month since that day,
