Page 129 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

"It's hard for anything around here to stay anonymous for long. Besides, she knows you well enough to know what you're capable of. As I said, she was so proud of you."

I push my lips together, fighting back the tears.

She pats my back. "Come on in. There are a couple of things she told me to give you whenever you finally make it back home.”

41

CHELSEA

“Oh my God, is that a hickey on your neck?” Jenna’s voice is a mixture of loud humor and rampant disgust. I blush and self-consciously attempt to conceal the aforementioned offense with my hand, but she cackles anyway, clapping her hands in drunken delight, “Itisa hickey. What are we in high school?”

“Shut up,” I mumble even though I’m smiling too. I’m not drunk like she is, but we’ve both been giggling the entire night as we eat popcorn and I catch her up on my crazy life.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind, and she is only privy to some of it. It feels like we haven’t talked to each other in forever, mostly because I’ve been dealing with the pregnancy and work, and she's been working and travelling a lot too.

Now that we're finally together, I tell her all about the doctor's visits, the dates we've been on, and how James found out about us and nearly had an aneurysm.

She doesn't stop laughing throughout the entire retelling.

"I would kill to see your brother's face on Monday when he sees that giant hickey," she chuckles.

"He's not going to see it, because of this wonderful invention called makeup."

“Right. So which of yourboyfriendsgave that to you, huh?’ she says the word with as much juvenile emphasis as she can muster. “I bet it’s Jake. He seems like the type to do some shit like that. Although Sam gives me pretty possessive vibes also.”

“Well, you’re wrong on both counts,” I say. “It was Adam, actually.” At least I assume it was him, because he’s the one who spent most of the time sucking on my neck two nights ago.

“Really?” she says. “Well, I guess people can surprise you after all. I would have pegged him as being too mature to give hickeys. He also didn’t seem like the lovey-dovey type.”

“They’re all the lovey-dovey type,” I tell her. Though I understand how she can make that mistake.

Adam always seems pretty level-headed and uptight at first glance, and he doesn’t seem like the type who would give little kisses and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

Oh, but he is the type.

With every day we spend together, he opens up even more and shows his real self. And his real self is so openly affectionate and nurturing; I know he’ll be a great dad.

Speaking of which...

We finally had the conversation I'd been dreading for some time.

I always wanted to know how Adam truly felt about us having a child. Though he's never complained, I can't forget how hereacted to the news about this pregnancy. It certainly wasn't a happy one. While that might have just been shock, a part of me is worried that he's just playing along because he doesn't have a choice, and that he feels trapped.

That's the last thing I want.

I would rather raise the baby alone than force anyone to be its father.

I was trying to figure out how to bring up my concerns to Adam, but it turned out that I didn’t need to.

He came to me two nights ago and picked me up, placing me in his lap and murmuring in my hair, “You know I love you, right?”

At first, I stiffened. He was the second of the men to tell me he loved me. Well, third, if you count Sam murmuring it against my pussy while he ate me out.

I love them too. I know I love them, but every time I think of saying it, the words get frozen in my mouth.

“It’s okay, you don't have to say it back," he says gently. "That was just a prelude to something else I wanted to say.”

Even though he told me I didn’t have to say it, I still struggle with the guilt of not saying it. I swallow it and ask, “Which is?”