Since everything, everywhere was so loud anyway, we didn’t hold back. We moaned, groaned, and fully enjoyed the impending explosion. Anna cried out so loud when she came, my ears rang. Then I felt her constrict around me and I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Fuck, God, yes, Anna. Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
The world evaporated as the best high in the world coursed through me. Jesus, I loved this…
Once we were both spent, Anna started breathing in a low, soft way that I knew meant she’d be snoring soon. Guess she really was tired. Without jostling her too much, I removed myself. Then I put down a little towel, just in case my awesome juice was too much for her. Finding a blanket, I laid it over her so she wouldn’t be cold. She smiled but didn’t stir. Good night, babe. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.
I never thought it would take three hours to get a two-month-old ready, but it did. Of course, my mother and I were interrupted by every person who came across us. They all wanted to hold Onnika, play peekaboo with her, and ask her to repeat stuff. Shit like that. It was really annoying considering the fact that we were on a schedule. I felt like Matt whenever I asked someone to give her back so we could get her ready. I needed a nap by the time she was.
Mom told me to get used to it. “Little girls take time. Older girls take even more.” I already knew that though. Anna took forever to get ready for anything. It was always worth the wait though. She looked like a fucking supermodel when she was finished.
After we were done with Onnika, we had to deal with Gibson, who needed almost as much time as her sister, since I couldn’t let her leave the house without perfectly symmetrical ponytails. When both girls were finally ready, it was well past the time we needed to go. Like a commander ordering troops into battle, I hustled people to their vehicles.
The church Anna had picked out for the ceremony was in Tacoma. Why the hell she had to pick one so far away, when Seattle had a bunch of perfectly decent churches around, was something I would never understand. She claimed she liked the architecture. Whatever.
Anna was browsing the Internet on her phone as I drove us. I was just about to ask her what the score on the football game was when she started laughing to herself. “What?” I asked. “Find something about me?” The Hand Solo incident had died down, but it still popped up sometimes.
“Well, yeah, kind of.” She flipped the screen to me, but I couldn’t read it while I was driving. “Some fans have started a petition. They want us to change Onnika’s name.”
I was floored that of all the things to vote on in my life, that was what was circulating. “What? I love the name Onnika. What do they think would be better?”
Anna pursed her lips, and I could tell she didn’t want to tell me. “What?” I asked, feeling annoyance starting to build already.
“Uh…they want us to name her Kellan…but with a Y instead of an A. Funny, huh?”
Funny? No, it wasn’t fucking funny. It was fucking annoying.
I was so ticked, I almost slammed the brakes and stopped in the middle of the freeway. “They want us to do what? Why the fuck would I name my daughter after one of the band members? And Kellyn? Are they fucking kidding me? Goddamn fucking Kellan Kyle lovers!”
Gibson started giggling. Then she proudly stated, “Goddamn!”
Anna lifted an eyebrow at me. “If she says that during church, you get to explain where she heard it.”
I shook my head at her. “No one will even question where she heard it…” Anna laughed, but I was really starting to get irritated. “Can you believe there is a petition to get us to rename our child? After Kellan?” I asked, disbelieving and furious at the same time.
Anna didn’t seem as flustered as I was. No, she was still all calm and relaxed from the sex in the closet. I kind of wanted her riled up with me right now. I should be more careful with my superpowers. Sometimes I didn’t know my own strength. “It’s not a big deal, Griffin,” she said, with a Please calm down sigh. “There’s probably one for all the others too. Maybe Mattlyn or Evanlyn. Actually, Evanlyn is kind of pretty…”
With a groan of frustration, I stepped on the gas. Joke or not, there shouldn’t be a petition of any kind to rename my kid. Unless it’s Griffilyn. That, I could understand.
I was in a bad mood when we got to the church. Fans wanting to rename my daughter had set me off, but it went deeper than that. Like he was the fucking moon in the sky, the tides came and went with Kellan Kyle, and I was sick of it.
The spirals of the church were dark and ominous against the gray clouds hovering low in the sky. They matched my mood. I hoped it rained. Or hailed. Then my prickliness would be properly portrayed. The parking lot was roped off when we pulled up, and Sam was standing there, looking all scary and imposing in his suit and dark glasses. He used to be the bouncer at Pete’s Bar, but now he was Kellan and Kiera’s personal bodyguard. He took his job very seriously and was keeping an eagle eye on the lot, ceaselessly on guard to keep the riffraff out. I expected him to open the makeshift gate the second he saw my Hummer, but he only stood there, bulky arms crossed over his chest, his face expressionless.
Pulling up beside him, I rolled down my window. Before I could speak, he held up a hand. “I’m sorry, this is a private service today. You’ll have to come back next Sunday.”
My eyes narrowed. “I know that, douchebag. It’s my ceremony.”
Removing his unnecessary sunglasses, he looked over my face. “No, sorry. The service is for a two-month-old girl. You don’t match the description. You’ll have to leave.”