Page 136 of Split You Open

“I think we’ll be better parents!” I blurt out without thinking.

Instantly, I regret it. Everyone falls silent and the darkness grows tense. Someone—I’m pretty sure it’s Ledger—is making a choking sound. When no one agrees after a long and painful stretch of silence, I try to backtrack.

“I mean, not right now! I’m just saying, you know in the future⁠—”

“Santi,” Rhett says, his voice strained. “You’re thinking of a future with kids under this roof?”

“No? Yeah? Maybe?” I hadn’t given it any thought whatsoever.

But… Now that the conversation’s come up, I’m not opposed to it.

Rhett rolls to face me. I can’t see him in the dark but that doesn’t matter when his lips brush against mine. All the tension that’s caused me to go rigid slips away as his tongue slips into my mouth. I groan and press my hips forward into him so he can feel how much I love him as I grow hard.

When he pulls away, it’s only far enough to ask in a soft whisper, “Girl or boy?”

“Hm?”

“Which do you want first? A girl or boy?”

Oh, he’s asking… oh my god he’s asking if I want a daughter or a son?!

My heart slams against my chest with excitement.

I hadn’t scared Rhett!

The excited squeal that slips out of my mouth has Rhett chuckling.

“I don’t care about the gender, but I want three, I think. Can you imagine, mi amado? A woods full of axe-wielding three-year-olds or whatever? We could have an army of kids to help us slaughter the fucking sickos of the world.”

The booming laughter that erupts isn’t from Rhett, who chuckles softly, but from Wes.

“Christ, Santi. Teaching kids to murder at three years old?” he asks.

Ledger sputters before he growls out, “That’s what you’re objecting to? Not the fact that he wants three?”

“Is that too late to start teaching kids how to kill?” I frown. “When do their brains develop? Should we get them an axe-rattle or maybe⁠—”

A loud groan of irritation wells up, interrupting me.

“It’s too late for this conversation,” Blair complains. “Who said anything about children in the first place?”

“Ah, you did,” Rhett says, rolling again in my arms to face her.

Blair scoffs. “Did not!”

Rhett snorts his amusement. “You said that Santi and I should have a kid so I can pass stories down to them about their Aunt Abby.”

I gasp. Blair said that? She’s so smart! The thought of her stomach swelling with our kids immediately gets me hard.

“When can we start?” I demand, sitting up. “Now…?”

“Look at what you started, Blair,” Wes whispers with exaggerated exasperation.

“Let’s pretend to fall asleep so they won’t rope us into any more of this ridiculous conversation,” Blair mutters conspiratory back to Wes.

We all laugh.

If there’s a future with us in it, I don’t care if we have kids.