When Lola returned to the penthouse, she stopped short at the sight of Atlas still seated in the same spot. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the twins leaning on either side of the armchair and the quadruplets crawling all over him.
"Stop it," he muttered, gazing down at the four babies—one of whom was chewing on his trousers. "Did your parents teach you to eat everything in sight?"
Her face twitched. Those kids are… just a little over one year old, right?
"Go away." He tried to move his foot lightly, but two of the babies clung to it like it was an amusement park ride. The twins giggled, with Chacha leaning close to say,
"It's fun, right?"
"Chacha," said baby number one, then baby number two, then three.
"Chacha."
"Thirty!" added the fourth proudly.
By now, Lola was far more familiar with Thirdy than the other three. That baby only ever called his name. Much to her dismay, Atlas's gaze snapped to her, and as if reading her mind, he suddenly clarified:
