Wardrobe Malfunction(106)By: Samantha Towle
I’m about to become a dad.
I just won an Oscar. Found out my eighty-four-year-old grandmother is getting married. And my wife’s water’s just broke.
At least I can say that my life isn’t boring.
She moans a sound of pain, her hand going to her stomach.
“Don’t worry, Pins. I’ll get you to a hospital.” I press the intercom to the driver. “Driver, nearest hospital. Now. My wife has just gone into labor.”
“Jesus,” he says.
Yeah. No fucking kidding.
“I’ll get you there as quickly as I can. Just hang on.”
I take hold of her hand and look her in the eyes. “You got this, Pins. And I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”
“It hurts,” she groans.
“Like a-pin-in-the-ball-sack bad?”
She pinches my nipple through my shirt, twisting it.
“Ow!” I yelp. “That fucking hurt.” I rub at the pain.
“As bad as an eight-pound baby deciding it wants out of your body through a hole the size of a lemon?” She glares at me.
My lips twitch, and I fight the smile because I know she’ll probably maim me if I do, and I really, really like my cock.
“Don’t you dare fucking laugh, West.”
“As if I would.” I take her face in my hands and stare into her eyes. “I love you,” I tell her. “And, no, it didn’t hurt that much. You definitely win that one, Pins.”
Then, I kiss her, the love of my life and soon-to-be mother of my son, as we speed through the streets of LA, hospital-bound, so my son can make his entrance into the world.
And I can’t fucking wait.
Writing a book isn’t a solo endeavor. Many people help me get my stories down onto paper and out into the world, and their help comes in many forms. Craig, Riley, Isabella, Trishy, Sali, Jodi, Jovana, Naj, Sue, Nicky, and Lauren—thank you. I couldn’t do it without each and every single one of you. And another special mention to Craig—thank you for the Bugsy Malone story.
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