Eddie knows he can’t argue with me about the reality we’re about to face head on. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned best in this industry, it’s to take control of the situation. If we give that to Lena, I lose to a rumor mill that will bury Kinley and me six feet under before we get a chance to say a word.
I know that we deserve nothing less than the judgement we’ll receive. But it’s also plausible that we won’t be as bad off as Eddie assumes
. The outlets will eat up any statement we make and run with it in any way they can to make money. But that doesn’t have to break us.
The truth is, we aren’t the first couple to cause a stir in Hollywood, and we won’t be the last. It doesn’t matter what morals are thrown out the window to wreak havoc in the media. We’re human. We make mistakes.
And right now, I’m fixing them.
Eddie: I’ll get something drafted to send first thing in the morning. Kinley will need to look at it too since this involves her.
Eddie: This isn’t going to be easy
Corbin: It’s worth it
Eddie: What changed from before?
Kinley stirs, causing me to peel my eyes away from my phone. She rolls onto her back, the blanket revealing her stomach in the thin sleep shirt she wears. My hand gently rests on the bump, my chest tightening with emotion.
“Everything,” I whisper.
Focusing on the phone, I type out a quick reply and turn off the screen. I ignore the oncoming messages that follow because I don’t want to spend my night with Eddie.
I want to spend it with Kinley.
My little bird.
My little birds.
Laying down on my side facing the girl who’s plagued my mind since my first day at Lincoln, I stare at the bump where our baby grows. “I know you probably can’t hear me right now, but I promise not to mess up anymore. This is it for us. Your mom, you, me…” I swallow past the lump in my throat and whisper, “We’re a family.”
Kinley’s hand reaches out and finds mine, surprising me. Neither of us says a word when she moves my palm to her stomach and flattens it against her. Her hand stays on mine just like that until we fall asleep.
The press release draft arrives in my inbox as I’m cracking eggs into the frying pan. Trying to focus on the sizzling sound, rather than the statement that will speak a truth the public probably isn’t anticipating, is hard.
I only slept for a few hours before finding my way to Kinley’s office, so I didn’t wake her. Insomnia isn’t usually a problem I deal with since my long days shooting tend to wear me out by the time I get back to my condo or hotel, but the reality of our situation leaves me too uneasy to rest.
Finishing the scrambled eggs and toast, I plate both our breakfasts and search the cabinets for a tray to carry them upstairs with. Digging through the cupboard under the sink, I don’t expect to hear a voice directly behind me.
“What are you looking for?”
Slamming the back of my head against the cabinet as I veer back, I wince and stand up. Rubbing the tender spot, I turn to Kinley and note her sleepy expression. Her gaze drifts to steaming eggs, causing her lips to tug upward.
“I was making you breakfast in bed.”
Her nose scrunches.
“What is it?”
She shrugs, walking into the kitchen and examining the food closely. “I’m just not used to this, I guess.”
I move hair out of her face. “Nobody has made you breakfast in bed?”
The irrational part of me is happy over something so mundane. It means I get to be that man for her. But the other part feels bad that no other man has thought to do this.
She takes one of the plates and walks into the dining room. I follow her after grabbing two glasses and the orange juice. “Has Lena made you breakfast in bed?”
She has, but I don’t tell Kinley that.