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“Uhh,” Marshall searches big mansion's bedroom for something while rubbing your babybump with the pad of his thumb. “Wear my hoodie . . . C'mon," He mumbled, handing you the hoodie and helping you slip it over your head.

You'd been pregnant for about . . . a month. Your boyfriend accidentally got you pregnant. Now, obviously, he cannot have the media know. Not now. Now you have to go out, but obviously, Paparazzi will be swarming the house.

He chuckled softly as he saw you in it. You looked gorgeous, even though. Drop dead gorg, no one would deny it. "You look just as good." He spoke, kissing your forehead, then cheek. "Come on . . . Let's go,"