Nineteen
Devon
Me: Thought you might want to know I heard back from Emma this morning. We’re meeting up for coffee tomorrow
Wes Holt: You don’t drink coffee…
Me: I’m sure the cafe will serve other beverages ??
Wes Holt: Are you going to tell her about our fun new hobby? Just want to be prepared
Me: That’d be an interesting conversation. “Hey, Em, remember how you always wanted me to try to get along better with your brother? Well, you’ll be happy to know we’ve finally found some common ground.”
Wes Holt: Common ground indeed. Who knew all it would take for us to get along was for me to put my cock in you? Should have done it years ago!
I let out a sputtering chuckle, almost losing my balance and toppling into another businessman on the crowded Metro. He casts me a disapproving look, which I return with a contrite nod. “Pardon.”
Me: While I was planning to marry your sister? That wouldn’t have been inappropriate at all…
Wes Holt: Fair. Although I’m pretty sure you’d have taken one look at my cock and called the wedding off. No one could resist something so magnificent!
Me: Your obsession with your own dick is unhealthy
Wes Holt: Your attempt at indifference would be more believable if you weren’t begging for it basically 24/7 ??
Me: ??
Wes Holt: Why don’t you put that finger to use and make me a video I can wank to?
Me: As much as I’d LOVE to be your personal porn star, I’m currently on the Metro. Pretty sure I’d be arrested for something like that
Wes Holt: Kinky ??
Wes Holt: Later then. I’ll be waiting…
Me: Some of us actually have to work today ??
Wes Holt: I’m some of us. I’m working right now
Me: How are you texting if you’re working?
Wes Holt: Text to Voice
Me: Wait…you’re playing this conversation out loud? In front of a client?
Wes Holt: Yep. His name is Tony. He says hi.
Me: WES! WHAT THE FUCK??
Wes Holt: It’s cool. Tony’s not going to say anything. This room is like a vault.
Me: You’re not a fucking doctor, Wes. There’s no tattoo artist-client confidentiality clause.
Wes Holt: Not officially, but it’s like a code. What you hear in this room stays in this room.
Wes Holt: Besides, it’s not like you and Tony run in the same circles. Unless you’ve been living a secret life as a member of the Queen’s Bandits MC? In which case I have follow-up questions.
Wonderful. Wes’s client is in a biker gang. That’s reassuring. The train comes to a halt, and I glance up to see we’ve reached my station.
Me: At my station. We’ll discuss this later
Wes Holt: Yes, sir
I’m not sure why I’m so nervous about seeing Emma.
I didn’t feel like this a month ago when she was in London for Jaclyn’s party.
Back then, though, I was still expecting this fling with Wes to burn out at any day; now I’m not so sure.
Two months in and I’m still completely addicted.
I’m actually starting to get concerned for my health…
Emma’s chosen a little cafe in Neuilly], which is apparently not far from where she’s living now. When I arrive at her table, she bounces to her feet and wraps her arms around me. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!”
I’m a little stunned by the warmth of her greeting.
Of course we agreed to stay friends, but the last time we saw each other things were a little awkward.
Or maybe that was just something I’d felt on my end because Wes was in the room and I was distracted with my worry that people would be able to tell we were shagging just by looking at us?
“You too,” I finally say, giving her a firm squeeze in return.
We break apart and each take a seat at the little table.
“Wow, you look…different,” Emma says, her head tilting this way and that as she examines my features, a strangle little smile in place. “Good, though. More…relaxed.”
I run a self-conscious hand through my hair, which I’ve left ungelled because after Wes distracted me with sex the other night, I forgot to pack a few things.
For some odd reason, though, I get the sense that Emma’s talking about more than just the hair; but I’m not about to volunteer that the main reason I seem more at ease lately is because of all the epic sex I’ve been having with her brother.
I offer a soft smile. “Thanks. You look great too.” That’s actually kind of a lie. She doesn’t look bad by any stretch, but she does look tired; I guess the long hours at her new job are catching up with her. Plus, it probably hasn’t been easy settling into a completely new city.
“Thanks.” She offers a weak smile, and I can tell she knows exactly what I’ve just been thinking.
We order our morning tea, and when my pain au chocolat comes, I can’t resist taking a photo and sending it to Wes.
Me: [Photo]
Wes Holt: Bastard. You’re probably only going to eat two bites of that!
Me: When in Paris ???♂?
Wes Holt: You’d better bring one home for me!
Wes Holt: Or 5!
Me: There’s a French patisserie two streets from my house
Wes Holt: It’s not the same!
Realising I’m being incredibly rude, I finally put my phone away and glance up at Emma. “Sorry.”
She offers a wry smile. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
I wince. Shit, I really was a terrible partner.
How many times did I make her sit there while I sorted through work shit on my phone?
It occurs to me now that I’ve never done that with Wes.
Granted, most times we’re in the same room together we’re tearing each other’s clothes off, but even when that’s not the case he still manages to capture my full attention.
I never even feel the compulsion to check my phone when I’m with him. What the hell does that say?
“I’m really glad you’re here, Dev,” Emma says, offering a soft smile. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
I quirk a brow at her. “There is?”
She nods before ducking her head and focusing on her coffee for a moment. I can’t help noticing the faint blush that stains her cheeks, though, and it sends a jolt of alarm running through me. Surely, she’s not trying to get back together? Or…oh god, could she know about Wes?
She finally glances up, drawing in a deep breath before saying, “This is probably going to seem a bit weird, me talking to you about this. But, despite everything, I still think of you as one of my best friends, and I hope it’s the same for you?”
I nod, guilt churning in my stomach. She knows. How the hell does she know?
“Okay, I’m just going to say it…”
“It just happened!” I blurt out.
“I’m pregnant.”
I stare at her for a long moment, completely stunned. She’s what?
Puzzlement crosses her features. “Huh? What just happened?”
I quickly shake my head, unsure whether to be relieved that she doesn’t know about my relationship with Wes, or wishing that was what the revelation was. Pregnant? What the actual fuck. “It’s nothing. Sorry. I just…” I shake my head again. “Did you seriously just say…”
“You can stop freaking out so much,” she says dryly. “It’s not yours.”
I let out a heavy breath of relief and sit back in my chair. I mean, I didn’t think it was likely considering it’s been almost eight months since the last time we slept together, but even so…when your ex tells you she’s pregnant, it’s a bit hard not to panic.
“Sorry,” I say a little sheepishly. “Are you okay?”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m fine. Morning sickness is a bitch, but other than that I’m doing okay.”
“How did the family take it?” I ask casually. What I really want to know is how Wes reacted to the news and why he decided not to tell me.
“I haven’t told them yet.”
I blink at her in surprise. “You haven’t?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t told anyone. Well, apart from you, obviously.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t really know anyone here well enough yet. And my family…it’s the kind of thing I’d prefer to tell them in person.”
I nod. “Fair enough. So, when are you going to tell your family?”
She shrugs. “I’ll be back in London for Christmas. I’ll tell them then.”
My eyes widen in horror. “Emma, that’s almost a month away. I don’t know if I’m comfortable keeping this to myself for that long…”
She reaches across the table to cover my hand with hers, her expression pleading. “Please, Dev. I could really use a friend right now. And it’s not as though you’ll have to lie to anyone,” she points out. “When will you be seeing any of my family between now and then?”
Well, unless I want to inform her that I’ll be seeing her brother—preferably naked—as soon as I get home on Thursday, I really don’t have a leg to stand on. Besides, as much as I hate being in the middle of this, it’s Emma’s choice who she wants to tell and when; I have to respect that.
I sigh, resigned. “Okay, yeah. Whatever you need.”
She offers a wobbly smile. “Thank you. And thanks for…not prying.”
I hold my hands up. “Not my business.”
“I just want you to know, though—we were definitely broken up.”
I offer a soft smile. “I never thought otherwise.”