Twenty-Seven
Devon
I’m going to murder Emma. Wes on his knees literally licking the sweat from my body is pretty much the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. Or, at least, it was until it all came to a screeching halt at the sound of Emma’s voice.
“What are the odds she’ll go away if we ignore her?” I venture.
He arches an eyebrow. “I’d say…non-existent.”
I sigh in resignation. “You want to wait here?”
In lieu of an answer, he strides to the fridge and retrieves a beer, snapping the cap off before hopping up to sit on the island.
I roll my eyes. “I own chairs, you know.”
Wes just smirks around the neck of his beer bottle. “I know.”
I give a wry shake of my head and leave him so I can go answer the door, finding a frantic Emma on the other side.
When she sees me, she lets out an obvious sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. You’re still in one piece.”
My brow furrows in puzzlement. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She looses a dramatic sigh and steps over the threshold into the front hallway.
“I broke the news to Wes and, well, he kind of assumed you were the father,” she says with a cringe.
“And before I could correct him, he stormed off muttering about kicking someone’s arse so I thought he might have been headed here. ”
I’m about to assure her that Wes didn’t jump to that conclusion at all and was more upset about me keeping such important information from him, but then I replay what she’s just said and realise she still has no idea that Wes and I are together.
Obviously, Wes didn’t get a chance to break his news before all the drama went down.
“Ah, listen, Emma…about Wes—”
She nods eagerly. “I know, I know.”
I stare at her in confusion. “You…do?”
“Yeah. Of course, it makes sense that he’d jump to that conclusion. I’m four months pregnant. We broke up four months ago. It’s a reasonable assumption to make.” She gives a little shrug. “I doubt he’ll be the only one.”
“The only one…what?”
“To assume you’re the father.”
“Uhh…” I’m usually an excellent conversationalist. Finding the right words to say to people in difficult situations is why I’m so good at my job. Right now, though, I’m having trouble stringing two thoughts together, let alone two words. “But…obviously you’ll tell them I’m not.”
Emma draws in a deep breath, biting her lip in a way that tells me she’s nervous. “Okay, here’s the thing. What if I didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?”
“Correct people’s assumptions.”
“Excuse me?” My eyes literally feel like they’ve bugged out of my head Roger Rabbit style, I’m so shocked by what she’s suggesting.
“Not forever, of course,” she says quickly, as though that makes her suggestion seem less crazy. “Just for the initial shock period. You know, to soften the blow so to speak. And it’s not like I’d be saying you’re the father. I just wouldn’t be saying you’re not.”
“Emma,” I grate out in a warning tone.
“Look, I know I sound insane—”
“You don’t just sound insane, Emma,” I growl. “You are insane if you think I’d go along with this farce just to save you from having to tell your family you got knocked up by some random guy you’d only known an hour.”
She winces at my words. “Sorry, I know I’m being insensitive. You have every right to be mad at me. Truthfully, I’d probably be a little upset if you’d gotten someone pregnant so soon after—”
I scrub a hand through my hair, tearing at the strands in frustration.
“For fuck’s sake, Emma. I’m not mad at you for getting pregnant.
I’m mad at you for trying to drag me into whatever bullshit you’re concocting to make your parents happy.
I’ve moved on,” I tell her, my eyes boring into hers with complete sincerity.
“I’m happy. I’m in love with someone else. I don’t want any part of this.”
I finish my spiel and stare at Emma, who looks completely stunned. “You’re…really? I haven’t heard…” I know her shock is more from the fact that no one warned her I was seeing someone, which they would have done had my relationship been public knowledge.
I let out a weighted sigh and turn back toward the kitchen.
“You can come out if you want,” I call out.
From the corner of my eye, I see Emma’s brows shoot up and her cheeks flaming red; no doubt she’s freaking out about the fact my new squeeze has just heard her act like a complete crazy woman.
I can’t stop my lips from twitching a little; she doesn’t even know the half of it.
Wes emerges from the kitchen, half-finished beer in hand, a shit-eating grin in place. “Jesus, Em, when did you start going all cray-cray?”
She shakes her head, eyes comically wide. “I don’t—what? Why are you here?”
Wes just beams at his sister. “Didn’t you hear? He loves me!”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry, I realise it’s probably not the ideal time for that kind of declaration.”
“There’s never not an ideal time for a declaration like that. I always knew under the veneer of loathing your true heart fluttered to the sound of my name.” He taps his index and middle finger to my heart as though he’s Johnny Castle teaching Baby about rhythm. “ Wes…Wes…Wes…”
“Okay, I take it back,” I say with an exasperated groan.
Wes shakes his head adamantly. “Nope. No takebacks.”
“Okay, I am so confused right now,” I hear a small, incredibly freaked out voice say from behind me.
I manage to tear my gaze from Wes’s smiling face to see that Emma’s still there, staring at the pair of us like she’s watching Boris Johnson strut down Pall Mall in a tutu.
And yes, I’d sort of forgotten she was there; what can I say, when Wes is around other people just seem to cease to exist for me.
“Sorry.” I offer an apologetic smile. “I can imagine this might be a bit of a shock.”
She just blinks at us, clearly still getting her head around the idea. “But…you guys can’t stand each other.”
“We were able to find some common ground,” Wes informs her; his tone is so matter of fact it prompts me to let out a loud snort of laughter, which earns a very curious look from Emma.
“Something tells me I probably don’t want to know…” she says warily.
I nod. “Good instinct.”
“But…wow. So now you guys are in love?”
I lift a hand to rub awkwardly at the back of my head. “Um…could we maybe shelve that for now? It’s still pretty fresh for us.”
“We’re boyfrienemies,” Wes announces brightly, reaching for my hand.
Emma’s brows draw together in confusion. “Is that a thing?”
“Of course, it is,” Wes says without a shred of doubt.
Emma just gives a wry smile. “Here I was, all worried that Wes was on his way over to pound the crap out of you—”
“Well, it really depends on what you mean by p— ompf,” Wes groans, cut off by my sharp elbow to the gut.
“Can we maybe just forget about what happened earlier?” Emma asks hopefully.
Wes lets out a loud rumble of laughter, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I don’t think so, Em. You went full nutso and you have to pay. Today will forever be known as the day you tried to convince my boyfrienemy to pretend to be your baby daddy.”