There's a crashing noise as I round the corner of Angela and Thomas's house. I manage to catch the aftermath of Blake scrambling to his feet after taking a dive to the ground. The pebbles on the ground make it an uneven surface which can be difficult sober. Drunk, well, you might as well add in some flaming hoops and a ring master.

Trailing behind him, I reposition a sleeping London towards my hip so that I can free up my right hand. I know he won't be able to open the door – but I'll let him try.

Blake produces a key from his back pant pocket. He brings the shiny metal close to his face to inspect before twisting his wrist back and forth to grasp which side should go up. After a second of noting the difference, Blake steps towards the door and aims to put the key in. He misses the lock and bangs the key into the door. Sooth Blake, you're so smooth!

With only one attempt under his belt, Blake gives up and rests his head against the window next to the door. I take the key from his hand and quickly unlock the door with ease. Blake launches his body off the window and stumbles to the side as he walks into the house.

Like a man on a mission, Blake makes a hasty cut towards the kitchen instead of going to bed. I assume he's onto round two despite being rather intoxicated already.

I hear the clicking sound from the fridge door being opened before I see Blake. He grabs another beer from the shelf and cracks it open with complete ease.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

I'm not sure why I'm asking, or if he really gets what I'm asking. Sure, he's standing, and he doesn't seem to be hurt from the tumble. He looks hurt. Whether he knows it or not. I see the hurt shinning within those green eyes and I don't know what to do. What do I say? An apology seems to be a good place to start.

"I'm sorry about my mother. What she said was out of line, regardless of how she was feeling." I couldn't defend my mother on this – I was on Blake's side. I understand that she's upset, but I can't justify what she's said.

Mum forgets that I'm not this child she can boss around. I am myself and I'm accountable for my own actions.

Blake easily shrugs off my comment, almost like he's brushing a piece of dirt off his shoulder. How can he do that? I'd be utterly mortified if Angela ever said those words to me.

There's a slight stager as Blake spins around which isn't surprising. He presses the freshly opened beer bottle to his parted lips and takes a swig from it. A couple of seconds later, he's placing a half empty bottle on the kitchen table and gripping on the side for support.

"Blake?" I call out, trying to capture his attention.

"Yeah?" He looks up from the bench and at me.

"I'll be back, okay? Try not to break anything while I'm gone." I hurry up the stairs and into the bedroom. I grab a fresh jumpsuit from the drawers and lay London on the bed to change her. It's easy to strip her out of the messy clothes and into something else.

She lies on the bed, her eyes half open and a yawn escaping her small lips. I grab her from the bed and place her in the cot and lay the blanket on her. Since she's already rather sleepy, she doesn't need help. As I walk away, I see her snuggling up to the blanket without a single fuss. At least one of them is being easy.

When I return downstairs, the first thing I notice is the empty beer bottle abandoned on the bench. Blake is off to the side reaching into the fridge for another drink.

"Haven't you had enough?" I ask.

"Ava." He huffs tiredly. "Sometimes you need a drink." I get it – I really did! If I wasn't pregnant, I'd be stat beside him drunk as a skunk while rolling on the ground contemplating the many things in life. But I couldn't be drunk and I couldn't ignore the world right now – especially when I've got a drunk Blake in front of me and a baby upstairs asleep.

Blake had given me the time I needed to process this baby and now he needs his own. I couldn't expect Blake to run into this completely happy. With him, I didn't know what to expect. I don't know how things actually turned out with Tori and Blake when she initially told him.

As much as I understood the need to drink away your problems – it didn't change the fact it wasn't a good idea.

"I don't think that's a good way to view alcohol, baby." I walk around so that I'm standing in front of Blake. I take the bottle from his hand and place it on the table as I close the fridge behind me.

"I just, hm." Blake shakes his head. "I'd offer you a drink, but . . ." He laughs at himself.

"You can't make jokes about that kind of stuff." I pout.

"Don't pout, baby. It was a funny joke."

"Okay, keep laughing." I bite back. "You're the one with two baby mommas!" This comment seems to shut Blake up. The laughter stops might way as a sulky pouty face forms on his face.

"As much as I'd hate it." Shrugs Blake. "We don't get to choose everything that happens in our life. Sometimes it just falls in our laps," says Blake.

"Like the gender of our baby?" I offer to soften the atmosphere of our conversation.

Blake presses a kiss against the top of my forehead – a soft smile forming on his face.

"But we get to decide on the name of our baby." The more I hear Blake say our baby, the more excited I get about the whole thing. My head might explode if I think about it a little too much. The thought of having a baby inside me is mind blowing.

"We sure do," I agree.

"Do we keep in theme? That's the question." The serious look consuming Blake's dopy face makes me laugh.

"Why did you name her London?" I've seen a picture of Tori and Jude with a fake London setting behind them. However, I don't recall Tori ever travelling to London. Maybe she's always wanted to go there? Logan always wanted to travel there. We used to talk about going together – two siblings on this grand adventure abroad. Of course, we never got the chance to go.

When Blake first told me her name – I'd thought, maybe this is a sign? Maybe I'm supposed to help Blake. I never dwelled on the thought much. It felt right, so I went with it.

"I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders. "Tori had always had that name picked out for a girl."

"And she never told you why?"

"I didn't think much of it. I just thought London was a pretty name."

"Did you even help Tori with a name?" Typical male thing, I guess?

Blake frowns and shakes his head, "We threw names back and forth but London always stuck with her. It wasn't that I didn't care."

"Is this one of your, everything happens for a reasons moment?" I ask.

"Yes." He grins happily. Blake places another kiss on my forehead, then wraps his arm around my waist.

"Did you discover this before London was born or after Tori left you?" I never would have picked Blake to be the soulful type. Deep and misunderstood just seems odd for Blake. Not anymore, though. I like that quality about him.

"When I found you," he admits.

"What? You had an epiphany as you ran down the hallway to see me?" I chuckle. "I though you got a spirit guide for one of those?"

"I saw you long before that," confesses Blake. "Tori and I split log before London was born. We clung together because we were scared. There were no feelings, no attachments beyond familiarity of each other." I squeeze Blake's body closer to mine for comfort.

"And?"

"You walked past me. You had this innocent look about you. Somehow untouched by the world around you. I liked that about you." His green eyes sparkle and the smile on his lips send butterflies through my stomach.

"My innocence sounds lame and you sound like a sparkly vampire." I roll my eyes and blush.

"Your innocence is precious," says Blake.

"And partly gone." My cheeks go warmer from the thought of Blake.

"Sorry." He laughs.

"Keep going," I prompt. "I want to hear more."

"One day Tori was gone, and I knew you took that baby class –" I go to comment, but I stop when I see the glare he's shooting me. "Baby class sounds cooler."

"Fine, call it that then."

"I approached you at school and asked for help. I felt like that was our moment to meet. I knew I could trust you. I didn't expect to be the one to help you too," explains Blake.

"Were you nervous about meeting me?" I ask.

I'm excited to hear Blake's side of the story, I'd just about over done my version in my head. Hearing Blake tell me these things makes my heart race and my stomach fill with more butterflies.

"Terrified." Blake awkwardly scratches the back of his head. "You didn't seem like the type to be involved with people like me."

"What type?" I ask, suddenly intrigued.

Blake laughs, a cheeky smile forming on his lips. "The type that mess around with bad boys."

"Maybe I like a little bad in my life?" I tease with a wink.

"Bad? You want some bad in your life, Miss Ava Greyson. Let me be that bad influence in your life." Blake's arms wrap around my body as I'm suddenly lifted off the ground. I wrap my arms around his neck and cling for sheer life.

He wanders towards the stairs and takes them one at a time – a graceful movement that makes it look like he was never staggering down the side of his parents' house.

Blake places me on the bed, then leans on top. His hands are on either side of my head, a look of lust consuming his vibrant green eyes.

"Get into bed, you goose!" The look of disappointment trickles onto his face.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Shh . . ." I hiss. "London is sleeping right over there." I point to her cot across the room.

Blake rolls onto his back and sighs with annoyance.

"We need privacy," I say.

"We need a house."

"Yeah, one day." I huff.

"Hopefully, that's one day soon." I rest my head on Blake's chest. He wraps his arms around my body and snuggles in.

I enjoy the feeling of his warm chest under my cheek. As I look up, I find Blake asleep with soft snores escaping his parted lips.

As the silence settles around us, I do not fear it. I learn to appreciate this fleeting moment because nothing ever stays the same – not when it comes to life – it continues to move forwards with or without you. I intended to move with it.

What do you think will be a good name for their baby?