The guys had all told him that he wasn't supposed to be seen with the baby for awhile, not until all the "hoopla" died down and people moved on to something more important, something more sensational.
He smirked at that word. He knew all about sensational, she made sure of that.
But nothing, nothing, compared to the feeling of holding that child in his arms.
He could see her over in the corner, writing away furiously in her baby journal, occasionally glancing up at them and biting one of the lips he loved so much.
The baby opened his mouth, scrunched his face, and let out a monstrous wail. Dear God has that child got a set of lungs.
Just like your daddy.
The thought came so suddenly, so freely, so uncalled for, that it shocked him as he shoved the tip of a bottle into the baby's impatient mouth.
He saw the girl smile an approving smile at him as she went back to writing her deepest thoughts and feelings into that journal, the journal he wouldn't be allowed to see for another year or so, until the baby was through with his first-year journal.
The guys told him to back off the child for awhile, alright, but they didn't understand. They didn't know what it was like to wake up late at night and crawl out of the comforting warmth of his bed and pad down the hallway to the nursery, lift the fragile, helpless being into his strong, capable arms, and then head to the kitchen to warm a bottle, murmuring nursery rhymes and lullabies the entire time.
They'd never sat next to their own child on the floor spoken in gibberish to him, feeling an odd swell of pride in their heart as the baby cooed and smiled.
They'd never had the privilege of watching their child drool on the face of one of the other members of the band, and they'd never been able to laugh and say, "That's my boy!"
They didn't know what it was like to look a woman in the eyes and be able to say that not only was she his girlfriend, she was his baby's mother. Proudly.
It's not like they planned it. But it's not like they didn't want him. He just made everything complete.
They had never been able to smile affectionately at their girlfriend and their baby at the same time.
They had no room to talk about what was best for him. He knew what was best for him. The baby was best for him. They'd considered telling the public it was someone else's until they'd heard him mumbling in his sleep. That had nixed that idea. He still mumbled those two words in his sleep, only now proudly, as before it had been in desperation. Those two simple words that made his girlfriend smile as she watched him sleep, knowing he was going no where. "Baby mine." That was all he ever said in his sleep. He never said anything else but "Baby mine".
Besides, the man thought as he looked up at his girlfriend, Benjamin Andrew is a great name. Especially when it's Benjamin Andrew Spears-Timberlake.