𝒯𝓇𝑜𝓅𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝒾𝒻𝑒

Capitulo 30

Lennox POV

I woke up the next morning once again in Beckham's bed. I'm starting to spend a little too much time over here, not sure how I feel about it yet.

"Are you feeling better?" Beckham glanced over at me, stroking my hair softly.

I looked up at him through heavy eyelids, nodding. In reality I'm currently trying to suppress yet another wave of nausea. I can't afford to throw up in front of Beckham again. There's only so many excuses I can come up with before he'll figure out what I'm actually suffering from is morning sickness.  Despite its name, it does not only occur in the morning.

"Do you need anything?"

"I could go for a cup of tea." I croaked out, hoping Beckham would go get for me so I could use the opportunity to empty bowels... Again.

"Sure, Princess. I'll go get it for you." He kissed my forehead, climbing out of the bed.

The second he walked out of the door.  I was also up running toward the bathroom but I was too slow. Next thing I knew the contents of my stomach were all over Beckham's hardwood floor.

I am seriously fucked.

I glanced over at Beckham's newest addition who was staring at me from the corner of the room. I could say that the dog did it. That might work actually. I didn't have any longer to ponder the thought and all but threw myself back on to the bed when I heard the door opening again.

Beckham returned carrying a saucer with a mug on top, and an icy expression. Who pissed in his corn flakes? "There's something you should see.." He set the mug down on the nightstand, oddly unfazed by the vomit that is all over his floors and motioned for me to follow him back out of the room.

Before leaving he did call for housekeeping over the intercom. I'm assuming for so that someone would come and clean up the mess I made.

Beck took ahold of my hand, leading me all the way out to the living room. Which was near the kitchen but not really. It's an open concept floor plan. When my eyes fell upon what caused Beckham's mood swing, I damn near shit my pants.

Among numerous other decorations there was a stack of giant blocks with letters on them, like the kind that small children play with only much larger. They were stacked together to spell out the word: CONGRATS.

"Brandt!!" I shrieked unable to make sense of what I was currently standing in front of. While Beckham lives in a very large penthouse, I'm positive that my voice carried far enough for Brandt to hear me.

I could hear the sound of doors opening and closing the pitter patter of footsteps, until I finally heard Brandt's voice. "Oh shit! I didn't do that!"

"Yeah, I know you didn't. I did that." Ayah furrowed her eyebrows together, obviously confused by my outrage.

"You did this?" I asked very slowly, pointing to the elaborate display set up in front of me. I just want to confirm that she's the person responsible before I wring her neck.