Chapter 46

When Clarke had first met Murphy—at a party per Raven's introduction—she'd assumed he was crazy wanting to make a career out of being a YouTuber. But now that she'd gotten to know him and had glimpsed the success he had on his channel, she was starting to believe he was crazy like a fox. The guy was a media genius and was gaining subscribers all the time. He had more than enough money to move Raven out of that studio apartment they shared, but he was saving it for the time being. They'd probably end up in their own beach house someday.

Clarke used to mostly tune Murphy out when he started talking about videos, only because she wasn't a huge YouTube-watcher herself. But now that she was the focus of his documentary, she was curious about how it would roll out. When he stopped by the bar and started yakking her ear off about how he was going to promote the series, she was actually genuinely interested and even questioned him about it. "So when are you releasing the trailer?" she asked as she poured him another drink.

"Probably within the next month," he replied. "It takes a while to edit."

He probably should have hired an editor then—he could surely afford one by now—but Clarke knew that Murphy was a control freak with his content. He liked to film and edit everything himself. "Do you have enough footage?" she inquired.

"Oh, I have more footage than you know," he bragged.

"That's creepy."

"Well, it's not like I have anything of you guys . . . you know." He gave her a suspicious look. "Why? Is there . . . does that kind of footage exist?"

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "No. Bellamy and I haven't filmed that."

"Ever?"

She thought back to a night in high school when Bellamy had taken his phone out and . . . well . . . "That's beside the point," she said.

Pretending to jot something down on his hand, Murphy mumbled, "Note to self: Find the Bellarke sex tape."

"Shut up, Murphy," she snapped, although now that she was thinking about it . . . where had that footage gone? Did Bellamy still have it on his phone, because if he did . . . watch party for the two of them only.

Unfortunately, before her mind could wander too far down the path of perversion, Clarke started to feel something unusual. It was like a tightening sensation in her abdomen. Not exactly pain, but a slight discomfort, enough for her to notice it and distinguish it as something other than her regular third trimester aches. "Oh . . ." she groaned, pressing her hand to her stomach.

"What is it?" Murphy asked.

"Nothing," she said, waiting for the pain to go away. "I just . . ." She frowned, not sure what had brought this on. It wasn't going to double her over or anything, but . . . it just felt weird.

"Kicking?" Murphy guessed.

"No." Kicking was a sensation she knew well. "I feel kind of cramped." It almost felt like she had her period again and was getting a menstrual cramp.

"Is that normal?" Murphy stood up from his barstool, looking a bit worried now. "Should I call Bellamy?"

"No, he's at work." The feeling started to subside, and she let out a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding. "I'm fine," she said, trying to convince herself of that as much as she was trying to convince her friend. "I think I'm fine." She'd done so much reading about how most of the aches and pains felt during the third trimester were just typical pregnancy pains. Nothing abnormal. Nothing to be alarmed about. Nothing at all.

...

For some reason, ever since he'd started working construction, Bellamy had had problems with the circular saw. And since it was a commonly used tool, it was pretty fucking embarrassing to constantly get his saw stuck in the very wood it was supposed to be slicing. With Roan home with his sick daughters for a few days, though, Bellamy had to step it up a bit and assume more of the responsibilities than his friend usually did. He tried his hand at operating a lot of tools he had yet to become particularly proficient with, that circular saw among them. After nearly a whole day of slicing up plywood, he felt like he was finally getting pretty good at it. His cuts were smooth and even, and the blade wasn't getting stuck in the wood anymore.

Since construction sites were notoriously noisy, Bellamy never heard his phone ring while he was at work. Once in a while he felt it vibrate in his pocket, though, as was the case when he set down the saw. He took his safety headphones and glasses off and checked the screen to see who was calling before he answered. Murphy.

"Hey, man, I can't really talk right now," he said. "I'm on the clock."

"Bellamy, don't freak out."

In an instant, the noise of all the other saws and jackhammers around him just faded out, and all he could hear was his own heart pounding in fear. "What? What's wrong?"

"Don't freak out," Murphy repeated, "but Clarke's in the hospital."

Clarke? In the hospital? Why? She was supposed to have been at work, so something bad must've happened.

He ended up leaving without even telling Emerson. He walked right off that site and made Murphy tell him everything he knew. Which wasn't much. He'd been at the bar with Clarke when she'd started having some pain in her stomach, and eventually she'd asked him to take her to the hospital. Murphy wasn't back in the hospital room with her, though, so he couldn't tell Bellamy anything more. The rest of the drive there, Bellamy's mind ran wild with all sorts of horrible speculation, the worst of which was that she was going into labor really early. Too early. Babies could survive when they were born two months prematurely, but there were lots of complications. And sometimes they didn't make it.

When he got to the hospital, he ran inside, spotted Murphy roaming around the waiting room, and boomed, "Where is she?"

"She's just finishing up," Murphy told him. "She's okay."

"What happened?"

"It was a false alarm," Murphy said. "She didn't want you to worry, but I thought I should call you."

He wasn't going to allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief, though. Not yet. "And the baby?" Nothing was fine unless both of them were fine.

Before Murphy could respond, Clarke came into the waiting room, looking tired but otherwise okay. "The baby's fine," she said. "Dr. Jackson did a full exam. Everything's still normal."

He immediately went to her and gave her a hug, relieved to see her standing and walking instead of lying in a hospital bed screaming the way he'd envisioned. "Then what was wrong?" he asked, keeping one arm around her. "Why were you in pain?"

"Braxton Hicks contractions," she answered. "They're not the real thing. They don't hurt too bad, and they don't last very long. It's just like . . . like a period cramp. But I got kinda worried, so Murphy offered to drive me here and . . ."

"Why didn't you call me?" he interrupted.

"I didn't wanna scare you," she said. "Look, it turned out to be nothing."

"But you have to call me, Clarke. That's what I'm here for." Hell, he was glad Murphy hadn't listened to her and had gotten him there. He would have hated to still be at work right now, mindlessly slicing through that plywood with no idea that all of this was going on.

"I know," she said. "It's just kind of embarrassing to make such a big deal out of nothing."

He gave her shoulders a squeeze and said, "I'm just glad you're okay." That was the most important thing.

"Well, I am under strict orders to go home and rest," she said, "so I hope you don't mind waiting on me."

He smiled at her, happy to do that for the next couple of months if that was what she needed. "I don't mind." He was faintly aware that Murphy had stepped back and was filming them on his phone now, but he didn't even bother to glance in that direction. Because he didn't want to take his eyes off of Clarke. He just wanted to make sure she was okay.

...

"You comfy?" Bellamy asked as he pulled the covers up over Clarke's lap.

"Yeah," she replied.

"You sure?"

"Yes. You're taking good care of me." He'd fluffed out every pillow so she could sit against them in bed, and he'd made sure she had some water within reaching distance and the remote control in her hand. She was poised to fall asleep right there with the TV on, because even though it was only 6:00, she was exhausted after today. It was supposed to have been just another mundane shift at the bar, followed up by a little mundane studying this evening. But it hadn't ended up being that.

"You know what I'm gonna do while you rest?" he said, walking over to the closet. He opened it, reached up onto the top shelf, and pulled down her rarely used black duffle bag. "I'm gonna pack up your hospital bag," he decided, unzipping it.

"Oh, yeah, my app did say it was time to start thinking about that." After today, she supposed there was no harm in being prepared.

"We're not just gonna think about it. We're gonna do it," he said, setting the empty bag on the foot of the bed. "This will do, right?" Without even waiting for her response, he walked back over to the closet, mumbling, "You'll need clothes. Comfortable clothes."

"Cute clothes," she corrected. There were going to be a lot of photos taken of her and the baby while they were in the hospital and shortly after they left, and she wanted to look nice in them.

He dumped a bunch of not cute clothes into the bag, so Clarke made a mental note to repack it later. "And bras," he said, rifling through the second dresser drawer. "Underwear."

"Old underwear," she said. "I might be . . . bleeding some." According to research, she could expect to possibly bleed for four to six weeks after giving birth.

"What about socks?" he said, after tossing some of her infamous 'period panties' into the duffle. "Your feet might get cold."

She smiled at him, finding it adorable how helpful he was being. She was pretty sure the hospital would have socks she could wear if they forgot to bring some. But he was trying to think of everything.

"Let's see, what else?" he said, already venturing into the bathroom after he added socks to the bag. "Toothbrush, toothpaste."

"I've got some travel-sized stuff in there," she called after him. Travel-sized stuff was just so much easier to pack. "You know, you don't have to pack all this up tonight."

Emerging from the bathroom with his hands full of toiletries, he said, "I want to. Just so we're prepared," and shoved all her travel-sized products into the front pockets of her bag. "What else?"

"Uh, clothes for the baby."

"Right."

She stopped him before he could head into the nursery by saying, "I wanna pick those out."

He came back, put his hands atop her bag, and said, "Okay, we'll probably want a blanket for her, though, right? And maybe some toys?"

"Well, how about something for us to do to pass the time?" she suggested. "Magazines, my sketchbook, my iPad. Labor can be a long process, you know."

"And food," he added. "I don't wanna live off the vending machines."

Hopefully they wouldn't be there so long that they felt like they were living off of anything. "You know what would make this a lot more enjoyable for me?" she said, grinning at him flirtatiously.

"What?"

"If you did all of this with your shirt off." Sure, she had the TV for entertainment, but there was nothing on. And nothing entertained her more than sexy Bellamy.

He laughed, shook his head, but then peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside anyway. "That better?" he asked.

"Much." The doctor's orders to rest meant that they couldn't have any sex tonight. But this was sort of the next best thing.

...

Cheer practice at the hotel had been grueling but productive. For nearly three hours, Raven had run them through their routine. Over and over again. With very few breaks. Most of the girls had checked out by the end of it, but Clarke tried to remain focused for her best friend's sake. Being the captain couldn't have been an easy job. She had to be stern with them, otherwise they'd slack off. And with the competition tomorrow, they couldn't afford to do that.

Thankfully, once they were done, they were all able to head back to their rooms and change into their swimsuits to hit the pool. As a squad, they walked down to the first floor, and as the pool came into view, Clarke spotted some familiar faces. And bodies. Particularly Bellamy's. He and Zeke and Miller, along with a few of the other athletes at their school, were already there, swimming around and looking damn attractive.

"Oh, look, the boys are here," one of the other cheerleaders remarked. "I wonder when they showed up."

"Probably about an hour ago," Raven answered.

Clarke cast her friend a questioning look and asked, "Did you know they got here?"

She hesitated before admitting, "Zeke . . . may have texted me."

All the girls groaned, and Clarke was the one to vocalize their disappointment when she asked, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because we needed to practice, and we needed to focus on practicing," Raven said. "But now that we got that out of the way, we can relax and have some fun."

"Yes!" a few of the girls whispered, which caused Raven to quickly tack on, "But not too much fun."

Oh, I'm gonna have a lot of fun, Clarke thought, leading the way to the pool with Raven. She and Bellamy had . . . plans.

When the guys saw them approaching, they stopped what they were doing and whistled. Zeke exclaimed, "Damn, girls!"

"Well, well, well, look at our fan club," Raven said.

Jasper, whose lanky frame stood out in stark contrast to all the buff athletes, leaned towards Bellamy and quietly asked, "Am I in heaven?"

"No, state cheer," Bellamy said, "but a lot of people make that mistake." He smiled at Clarke, and she felt herself blush.

"You girls look good," Roger said, wriggling his eyebrows.

"Uh-uh, Roger, none of that," Raven scolded, shaking her finger at him. "Now don't get me wrong, it's very flattering that you guys came to support us this weekend. It isn't very often people cheer for the cheerleaders. But my squad is here on a mission, and we have strict rules to adhere to."

Clarke was barely listening, and as Bellamy's eyes gazed into hers, she could tell Raven's words were going in one ear and out the other for him, too.

"Curfew is 9:00," Raven said sternly. "There will be no . . . mingling in the rooms. We have to get up early tomorrow, and we have to be sharp and rested. Understood?"

Nobody claimed to understand, and nobody agreed to follow the rules. But Zeke came close to the edge of the pool and said to Raven, "You're so sexy when you take charge, baby."

When he grabbed her legs, she yelped, "Zeke!" But there was nothing she could do to prevent him from pulling her in. The other girls followed suit, squealing and jumping into the water. Clarke took a step back, though, and Bellamy waded towards her.

"You gonna get in?" he said.

"That depends. Is the water warm?" she asked in return.

"Oh, yeah."

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head skeptically. "I don't believe you. Last time you said that, I ended up in a cold ocean."

"Having hot sex with me in a cold ocean," he reminded her. "Come on."

There was no doubt she was getting into that pool, but she was a wimp when it came to cold water and wasn't as inclined to just jump in like the other girls had. "No, Bellamy, wait," she said as he got out of the water. "Just let me ease in."

He shook his head and reached out for her.

"Bellamy!" She couldn't dart away fast enough. He grabbed her around the waist and flung her into that water like she weighed nothing, and yep, it was pretty cold. He jumped right back in after her and started splashing her, so she laughed and splashed him back. Then at one point she tried swimming away from him because his splashes were so much bigger than hers, but he just swam after her and had no problem catching her. They played around with dunking each other, and eventually, she crawled up onto his shoulders and sat there while Raven did the same with Zeke. They battled it out, each trying to push each other off, and they both ended up falling back into the water around the same time. It was all pretty juvenile. In fact, they made the actual little kids in the pool look calm and mature in comparison. But it was so fun.

After about two hours in the pool, most everyone else had either gotten tired or just plain shriveled, and they all left to go to their rooms and take a shower. But Clarke and Bellamy stayed, long after everyone else was gone. When they were the only two left in the pool, it automatically felt more romantic, and Clarke longed for the privacy of the beach and the ocean, where they could skinny-dip without offending anyone. But if they tried that here, they'd be kicked out. And her mom would just love that.

Raven came out to the pool about an hour before curfew and reminded her, "9:00, Clarke."

"Got it," she said, kicking her legs up behind herself so she could float on her stomach while grabbing hold of the edge of the pool. Bellamy was lounging with his arms up on the side, lifting his torso out of the water and giving her the perfect view of his chest.

When Raven left, he asked, "So . . . no mom or dad this weekend?"

"Nope," she said. "My dad's away on work, and my mom ended up getting scheduled for a major surgery tomorrow. So it's just us." As nice as it would have been to have them there to see the routines she and Raven and the rest of the squad had been working on for months, being there with just her friends and her boyfriend was better.

"Raven seems pretty set on her rules," he noted.

"Well, it's like she said, we're on a mission."

"To do what?"

"Win." Her feet started to sink beneath the surface, so she kicked them back up again. "Last year we got fourth. Such a letdown."

"Ah, you guys will win," he said confidently. "I know it."

I hope so, Clarke thought. She wasn't as passionate about cheer as Raven was, nor was she as talented. But it still meant a lot to her to be there representing the school, and she wanted to represent well.

"You didn't come to this last year," she said, wondering if she might have made her move on him earlier if he had. She'd always thought Bellamy was cute, and even as a shy freshman, it would have been hard not to notice him if he'd been swimming around in these swim trunks that left so little to the imagination.

"Well, I didn't have a girlfriend on the squad last year," he pointed out.

She smiled at him, appreciating that word. Girlfriend. Out of all the girls in the school who wanted to be Bellamy's girlfriend, she actually got to be.

He turned towards her, and she let her legs drop beneath the water as he leaned in and kissed her. It was a slow kiss, but a deep one, the kind that would inevitably lead to something more. As their lips parted, he pressed his forehead against hers and said, "I got a room to myself. Sneak in there tonight."

"I want to," she said. "But Raven-"

"She doesn't need to know." His breath mingled with hers as he whispered those words, those tempting words, and she knew she was a goner. Hopefully the other girls abided by the curfew, but . . . she just wasn't going to. She couldn't. Being in a hotel with Bellamy was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

After she finally got out of the pool and parted ways with Bellamy, Clarke went to the room she was sharing with Raven, got in the shower, blew dry her hair, and then put an oversized t-shirt on (one of Bellamy's football ones), and crawled into bed, pretending that she was trying to fall asleep while Raven went out and did a room check for the rest of the squad at 9:00 sharp. She texted Bellamy a quick 'wait for me' and received a picture of his dick in response. So he was definitely eager.

When Raven returned at about 9:15, Clarke asked, "Everyone in their rooms?"

"Yep. Just like they're supposed to be," Raven said proudly. "Time for bed." She crawled underneath the covers of her bed, shut off the lamp, and said, "Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight," Clarke said, but dreams were nowhere close. In fact, all she could think about was the sweet reality down the hall. Her boyfriend was lying awake, just like she was, ready and waiting for her. Waiting to get his hands on her.

Unfortunately, Raven didn't snore or even breathe with her mouth open or do anything to indicate when she might have fallen asleep. So Clarke stayed quiet and still, waiting at first for ten minutes, then ten more. The problem was, whenever she decided she was going to get up and leave, Raven stirred or rolled over onto her other side. Finally, after half an hour, though, Bellamy texted her, asking if she was still coming. She responded with a simple yes and decided to make a break for it. As silently as she could, she got out of the bed, grabbed her room key, and tiptoed towards the door. She cringed as she opened it, because it made a loud clicking sound, and if Raven wasn't asleep or was only dozing lightly, she surely would have heard it. But she didn't move or say anything, so Clarke slipped out into the hall, pulled the door shut quietly, and then stayed on tiptoe as she snuck down the hall towards Bellamy's room.

Was it 215 or 216? she thought, struggling to remember. Both had the curtains pulled and were completely silent, so she took a chance and knocked lightly on the door to room 216. Please be Bellamy's room, she prayed, imagining she'd be mortified if some kid or old lady came to the door and saw her standing there in just a t-shirt.

Thankfully, when the door swung open, it was in fact Bellamy on the other side, and he was completely naked. He didn't say anything, opting instead to just grab her waist and pull her inside. The door slammed, and they were already kissing as they stumbled towards the bed. He yanked the t-shirt off, his hands sliding all over her skin once she was completely exposed. He grabbed at her breasts, her waist, her hips, her ass, all the while kissing her hungrily. Her hands were busy, too, massaging his chest, grazing his sides, and reaching down in between them to grip his cock. He'd already put a condom on. He was so hard and so ready.

She was ready, too, no foreplay needed, so she put her hands on his chest and gave him a gentle yet forceful shove back onto the mattress. Crawling on top of him, she straddled his hips and bent forward to capture his lips in her own as the head of his cock jabbed at her pussy. He reached down to hold it steady, and she kept kissing him while she sank down onto him. It felt so good feeling him inside her, like this was just where they were meant to be. And like it was what they were meant to be doing.

She rolled her hips against him, trying to stay bent forward so her breasts could slide against his chest and so they could still steal some kisses in the midst of fucking. The faster she moved, though, the more rapid and ragged her breathing became, so she pulled back, keeping her face in line with his as they both gasped for air. His hips pushed up into hers, meeting her every movement, plunging him deeper. His hands reached around to cup her ass, and she groaned, probably waking up whoever was in the room next door.

The more they moved, the hotter Clarke's body started to feel. Bellamy's slickened with sweat, too, as their chests and stomachs rubbed together. Clarke wasn't sure whether they were fucking or making love, but whatever they were doing felt so good. And it was making her feel so much.

...

Clarke had to shake her head to get her mind out of the gutter as Bellamy roamed around the room, packing up all sorts of things she could use to occupy herself in case her labor ran extremely long. But god, him without his shirt on . . . that was always a sight to see.

"You know, I could just take my pants off, too, if you want," he said as she openly salivated over him. "That'd be a real show."

It definitely would be, so she urged, "Go right ahead."

He smirked at her and said, "Okay, then," as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He got naked, and Clarke got happy. If this was what a night of bedrest entailed, then it wasn't so bad after all.

...

Bellamy sat outside the history building on campus, waiting for his sister's class to let out. When she emerged, she looked as bored and unenthused as the rest of the students. Unlike him, she had no interest in history.

"Look who finally made it to class," he teased.

"Oh, shut up," she snapped. "I make it to class about twice a week."

He shook his head, not really able to lecture her because, if he hadn't had football, he probably wouldn't have even gone to college to begin with.

"What're you doing here?" she asked him.

"I got an hour lunch break," he said. "Just wanted to see if you felt like hanging out."

"Sure," she said.

"Alright, let's go." He started walking, motioning for her to follow him. This wasn't just a random visit. There was somewhere specific he wanted to go.

"Hey, how's Clarke?" she asked as they walked along. "I heard she had a scare yesterday."

"Yeah." Thankfully it hadn't been something worse. "But she's fine. Fake contractions."

"Oh. That really happens?"

"Apparently." He felt really bad for her dealing with those now on top of everything else. Being pregnant seemed . . . really hard. But Clarke constantly impressed him with how she handled it.

"Well, good," Octavia said. "I'm glad she's okay. That must've been scary."

"Yeah, it was." She hadn't had any more Braxton Hicks contractions last night, nor had she said anything about any tightness or pain this morning. She was staying home for another day of rest, and he was making it a point to call her every hour, just to check in.

"Where are we going?" his sister asked as they began to walk past the student union instead of into it.

He smiled and said, "You'll see."

From campus to the only jewelry store in town, it was a short walk. He and Octavia made it in minutes, and when they walked in, she set her backpack down behind the counter so she didn't knock over any jewelry displays.

"Wow," she said as they browsed a whole bunch of diamond rings inside a large display case. "I figured you'd propose, but I thought it'd be after the baby's born."

He shrugged. "Why wait, you know? You gotta help me find a ring."

Octavia snorted. "Don't know how much help I'll be. I'm not a jewelry girl. They all just look like pretty diamonds to me. Maybe you should've brought Raven."

"No, I don't want anyone to know except you and Mom," he said. "You gotta keep it a secret, alright?"

"Of course," she promised.

"I mean it, O. Remember when I was twelve and I tried to hide those Playboys under my bed?" he recalled.

She laughed. "And then I found them."

"Right, and then you told Mom, even though I asked you not to." He'd gotten grounded for a week because of that, missed out on a junior high football game.

"I just wanted to get you in trouble," she said, smirking. But then she reassured him, "Relax, I won't tell anyone. This is a little more serious than pornography."

It sure as hell was, so if she let anything slip, he was going to be pissed.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Octavia said, waving a sales associate over. "He's looking for an engagement ring, and he's clueless. Can you help him?"

"Oh, sure," the woman said, smiling politely at him. "Do you know what cut you're looking for?"

He made a face. "Cut?" What did that mean?

"Yes," she said. "Round cut, pear cut, princess cut . . ."

Not one of those cuts sounded familiar, but one of them did sound intriguing. "I'm sorry," he said, "did you just say . . . princess cut?"