20. Jake
JAKE
“Jake." Chelsea's eyes widen in that adorable way of hers, like pretty round emeralds sitting in her face. "What are you doing here?”
I retrieve the bouquet from my back and hold it up to her.
Her mouth falls open. “Jake–”
“An apology,” I tell her before the protest building can leave her lips. “For spilling your secret before you were ready.”
She sighs and shrugs. “Eh. It’s for the best anyway. I think I would have been too in my head about it and somehow managed to talk myself out of actually coming clean to your guys. So this way, the choice was taken out of my hands."
"Mhmm. Does the same thing apply to your brother?” Today, she lied about the reason she was sick, meaning he still doesn't know she’s pregnant.
Which makes sense. He strikes me as the super overprotective type, and finding out that his sister is pregnant from a one-night stand with us…
he’s going to lose his shit. I’m prepared to deal with it if he does, though.
Instead, she shakes her head frantically, pallor sinking into her face. “Absolutely not. I can’t tell him now. He would…I don’t even know what he’ll do, but it’s not going to be pretty.”
“Well, he's going to find out eventually,” I tell her. “There are only so many ways you can hide a baby bump.”
"Yes, but…I’ll tell him after the merger is announced and after we’re done crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s. That way, he can’t back out of it.”
“You think he’d want to back out if he knew what happened between us?”
“Maybe. James is very smart, but he can be very illogical sometimes and will act out based on his emotions. He might just do it to get back at you guys, even if he knows it will cost him tons of money and hurt him in the long run.”
"Yeah." That brings back the recollection of when he tried to kick my ass in college, knowing fully well that I was bigger and stronger than him. "He'll definitely go scorched earth, especially if he knows I'm involved."
Chelsea cocks her head. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask about that.”
"About what?"
"About why my brother dislikes you so much, at least in the context of me dating you," she says. “I mean, I don’t think he necessarily wants me with any of you, but he seems to hold a very particular grudge towards you, though. You're the one he wants me with the least. Is there a reason for that?"
“Yeah,” I say as the memories fully drift back. “Not really proud of it, but I was a real idiot in college.”
Her eyebrow raises. “I’d love to hear about it.”
“Invite me in, and I might tell you." While a part of me is enjoying talking outside with the evening breeze nipping at our faces and her scent blending with the smell of spring, I’d much rather be in the intimacy of her home, sitting together on the couch, staring into her eyes, leaning in and kissing her–
No. I stop the thought dead in its tracks. That’s not what I came here for. I came here for...
Hell, I’m not even sure.
Maybe it's because of what Sam told us this morning, right before the meeting, about how she'd thrown up in his car and felt so sick that he'd taken her to the hospital.
I was worried about her.
But aside from my worry, I also imagined them in the hospital, with him by her side, holding her hand through it all.
And when I saw them together today, it was clear that something had shifted in their relationship. She smiled at him first when she walked into the conference room, and he smiled back at her, and there was just an intangible bond between them.
It triggered a dark heat in my chest that I struggled for the rest of the meeting to suppress.
I told myself that it was because I didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I hated that Sam kept that from us until right before we arrived, and when I tried calling her, all the calls went to voicemail.
I mean, the baby could be mine, so it should be at least partially my responsibility to take care of her, and I shouldn’t have been just Sam with her that day when she was sick.
I told him as much and told myself it had nothing to do with envy, even though the thought of them making out in that car has replayed in my mind on a loop since it happened.
I was going to let her go.
I knew he liked her more than I did, so I was going to do the decent thing and let them be a couple without my interference. Heck, that's why I suggested she drive with him in the first place.
So what am I doing here now?
The baby.
That's right. I was going to let her go, but that was before the baby was involved. Now, I can't just turn my back on my child. This is all about the baby.
Liar.
She’s staring at me now, contemplating the offer, and then she purses her lips and steps back. "You can come in.”
“Thank you," I say. I walk in and take off my jacket, hanging it on the hook.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her eyes dropping to the t-shirt stretched across my chest that lifts showing off the V in my lower abdomen.
A responding heat floods my body.
Oh yeah.
I didn’t wear this on purpose, but the flare of the desire in her eyes makes me want to preen like a damn peacock.
She wants me. Despite whatever's going on with Sam, she still wants me.
Why does that fill me with so much pleasure?
Why do I want to kiss her so badly right now?
Control yourself. You’re just here for the baby. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea, but Sam really likes this fish, and Sam is also your best friend, and you don’t want to be the guy sleeping with your friend's girl. Again.
Though the last time it happened was an accident, this time it wouldn't be.
“Do you want a drink?” she asks. “I have some wine. Or juice.”
“Juice would be great,” I say. Wine would be even better, but I don't want to drink alone when she can't.
She pours us both glasses, bringing them over.
As I take it from her with a murmured thanks and sink into the couch, I say. "This is a nice couch."
"Thanks. One of the only good things Eric got for me."
Hearing it’s from that scumbag makes me like it less. I still remember his irritating, smug little face as he stormed into her house that day, probably thinking he was going to win her back just like that after cheating on her. Fucking asshole.
So,” she says. “Tell me, why does my brother have it out for you?"
"So we met in college, as you know. He was more of Adam’s friend than mine, but we were friendly, and we were in the same frat, so…
"Of course. Frat boy."
"Yeah. Adam wasn't in a frat himself. Frats aren't really his thing, and he thought he was too old for them, but because we were friends, he came over a lot to our parties. But anyway, once during a party, I saw this hot blonde coming up to me. Of course, I didn’t know who she was at the time, so I flirted back.
She's coming on strong, and you know how I like it when women come on strong. "
I give her a teasing look that makes her blush.
"Well, that wasn't really me that day at the party," she says.
"Oh yeah? Then who was it? Your clone? Because if so, you need to introduce me to her stat."
She rolled her eyes. "I mean, yeah, it was me. Just that I wasn't acting like myself. I was trying to be someone else."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I thought it would be more fun."
"Was it?"
"Yeah, a lot of fun, at the moment. But after..." She shakes her head.
I'm not sure I buy that not being her. I feel like it's a part of her that she's restricted herself from expressing, but a part of her, regardless.
"Finish your story," she says, and I nod.
"Anyway, she came onto me, I was drunk, and things got hot and heavy. Long story short, we ended up hooking up, and in the morning, I found out that she was Adam's long-distance high school girlfriend who came to visit him."
She gapes. "Wait, you slept with Katie?"
"Yeah." I grimace. "Not my proudest moment, believe me."
"Oh, my God. First of all, terrible taste, personality-wise."
"Yeah, well, we didn't do much talking, so I don't think I cared much about her personality.
Besides, I was drunk. After it happened, Adam was understandably pissed at me.
It was a whole mess, and everyone knew. They broke up.
I tried to make it up to him, but he didn't want to hear it and insisted I just forget about the whole thing.
But I probably shouldn't have done that because he's held a grudge against me ever since then.
"Well, yeah, you slept with his high school girlfriend."
"That I didn't know of at the time."
"Did you ask? I mean, did you even bother to ask her name?"
"No," I grin wickedly. "Then again, I didn't ask for yours either."
She blushes and tries to hide it by sipping her juice, but I keep going.
"I find good things happen when I don't ask for names."
She mutters something under her breath, and I raise an eyebrow.
"If you just called me a whore, I'll have you know, I resemble that remark."
She laughs, and it's a lovely sound flowing over my ears. I love hearing her like this, so light and breezy.
I savor the sound and stare at her until she's done.
She stares at me, too, and clears her throat, drinking the rest of her juice.
"So," I say, trying to remind myself. "You and Sam....how's that going..."
"What do you mean?
"Are you two dating?"
She shakes her head. "No. We decided it would be better for us to be friends."
"You decided?'
"He agreed."
I don't think he did, but Sam can be sneaky like that. Probably thinking of another way to infiltrate her defense systems.
He'll win her over eventually.
I could see the affection in her eyes when she looked at him, the gentle amusement she had even after he proposed to her.
That doesn't always happen.
Most women are either put off by him or intrigued by him, but I don't think I've ever seen any of them extend that warmth and understanding toward him, and I think that's something that he craves.
I should be happy that he's found it with her. That eventually, when she's over her reservations, they'll make a nice, beautiful couple, and she'll probably marry him, and they'll have a nice picket fence.
Maybe have another kid or two.
And I'll just be Uncle Jake, who visits now and then and who was a part of their past.
I wonder if...
I wonder if he'll ever let me touch her again.
I wonder if I'll ever get to taste those luscious lips, if I'll ever get to touch her soft skin, and run my lips down her neck. I wonder if I'll ever dive into her pussy, lapping up her cream as she moans and flows down my throat.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Is it my imagination, or is she breathless? Her face is slightly flushed, her lids lowering. And her eyes flick down to my lips.
"You know why," I tell her, and my voice comes out in a strained whisper. Her breath catches in her throat.
This is the part where she tells me to back off. To leave. That she doesn't want anything to do with me. But none of those words are coming out of her mouth.
Instead, she leans forward. It's so slight, almost imperceptible, but it's there regardless.
Don't do it. She's for Sam. She might think they're friends, but you know he likes her.
But maybe I'm the bastard that James thinks I am.
Because try as I might to back off, to do the right thing, I find myself closing the gap instead.