Forget.

Chapter 35

🍍Just started the third book. I really like where it's going lololol🍍

When we arrive, Dean switches me over for sake of the cameras.

He carries me into the elevator and drops me to my feet inside it.

I lean against his frame and boost myself on his hips to kiss him.

"Short girl problems." I hear Roman mumble as we break away.

Dean grunts while he looks down at me.

I jump to kiss him once again and replace myself by his side.

Soon, the bell dings and we hunt for our room.

Once we step into our luxiorious suite, we rest on the couch for a little bit.

"Where has Bray been?" I ask.

"I don't know. We haven't seen him since Nevada, huh?" Dean asks.

"Yeah.." I think.

"Alright. You two talk. I'm going to bed and escorting Seth to it himself." Roman complains.

"Alright man.." Dean says, resting his arm over my collar bone from behind.

"We should go to bed.. But keep talking.." I start awkwardly.

"Drunk?" Dean questions.

I simply grin and he returns the favor.

He hurries up to the cabinets and I hurry after him.

"Shit. Dean." I start.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant. Babies can't have alcohol." I begin.

"Oh yeah.." He glumly responds.

"Sorry. You can drink if you want."

"Nah, it's either the both of us or none of us." He insists.

"Alright." I laugh.

He pulls me by the hand into the master bedroom.

He sits crosslegged on the bed and leads me to do the same.

He just stares at me for awhile, and I look awkwardly at my feet.

"How could people treat you so badly? Your absolutely perfect." He finally mutters.

I smile.

"Because I'm pretty easy to push around, I guess." I laugh.

"Well that won't happen anymore." He whispers.

"I'm sure it will, but you'll be there. Hopefully. Crush some hoes for me." I laugh.

"Sure as hell I will." He laughs along with me.

"So. Your birthday is January 19th." He starts.

"And yours is December 7th." I laugh.

"January 19th... Edgar Allen Poe was born on January 19th." He thinks.

"Yeah.." I laugh.

"Maybe that's why you're so mentally off. In a good way. An insane little poetic way." He rushes and I laugh.

"Perhaps. He is one of my favorite authors."

"I love him too!"

"Really? You don't seem like someone who would like Poe."

"Of course I do. I know it's kinda weird but I love his poems."

"What's one of your favorites?" I ask.