“Cal, he’s a baby,” Cleo hissed impatiently. She was getting a little fed up with her friend’s casual hookups. “When are you going to stop messing around with these little toy boys and find a decent-age-appropriate-guy?”
“Age-appropriate guys aren’t fun and lack stamina,” he whispered smugly. “What Greg lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.”
“Look, you and young Greg are going to have to go someplace else tonight. I’m expecting guests,” she said, and Cal’s eyebrows rose.
“Guests?”
“Luc and Blue are coming,” she explained, and Cal rolled his eyes.
“They’re hardly guests. They won’t mind if Greg and I are hanging around.”
“Cal, I have something really important to discuss with Luc; I just need a bit of privacy.”
“Since when do you have secrets from me?” he teased.
Cleo’s patience just snapped. “Since now, okay?”
Cal took a step back and his face froze over.
“No need to lash out,” he said icily. “Keep your precious secrets. Greg, babe, we’re going out. We’re not welcome here.”
The passive-aggressive comment was so typical of him.
“Cal,” she said miserably, and he held up a hand, still not looking at her.
“It’s okay, Cleo. This is your flat, and you have every right to want it to yourself sometimes. I’m sure Greg and I will find someplace to go in this weather. Right, babe?” Greg’s pretty blue eyes were wide and confused, but he nodded.
“It’s just for a couple of hours,” she explained. “I’ll text you when they leave.”
“Whatever.” He shrugged, grabbing his coat. She tried her best to shove aside the guilt as he and the hapless young Greg left. She really didn’t need Cal’s drama right now, but that’s how he always was, and she continually made excuses for him.
“Who’s the father?” Luc asked. He had been grim and silent when Cleo told him about her pregnancy and had remained that way for nearly five minutes after she had stuttered to a halt. She had never seen her normally amicable brother so quiet and unreadable before. Blue had filled the silence with slightly nervous chatter about the weather and the new leaks they’d discovered in the roof, all the while darting uncertain glances at Luc like he was a ticking time bomb about to go off. And now, when he finally spoke, his voice was cold enough to freeze the air around him.
“His identity is unimportant,” Cleo said, trying to keep her voice from wobbling.
“You do know who the father is, right?” The question was designed to wound, and Cleo felt the impact of it like a blow to her sternum. She gasped and folded in on herself defensively.
“Lucius Knight!” Blue barked, angrier than Cleo had ever seen her before. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
To his credit, Luc looked immediately contrite.
“I’m sorry, Cleo, that was unfair of me,” he mumbled. “I’m just angry and frustrated. I hate to see you in a situation like this, with the loser who got you pregnant having zero accountability.”
“It’s my choice, Luc.”
He nodded curtly, his jaw tight. He still looked angry and disappointed, and it killed her to have put that look on his face.
“So you’re having it but not sure if you’re keeping it?” he said after a long pause, during which he’d done nothing but stare at her intently and stroke his thumbs restlessly across the back of her hands.
“Yes.”
“When do you think you’ll know?”
“I’m not sure. I have no feelings about this baby one way or another. I just feel trapped and confused and scared and so stupid right now.” Her voice was thick with tears.
“Oh, Pattypan,” Luc sighed, and dragged her into his arms for a comforting hug. The childhood nickname-one he’d come up with because she hated her full name-brought tears to her eyes, and she sobbed into his chest, suddenly feeling years younger than her age. “We’ll figure this out. I promise you that.”
Cleo allowed herself to lean on him for a second longer, knowing that her big brother would always have her back. She had never loved or appreciated him more than in that moment.
Cal was still pointedly ignoring her when he returned to the flat, sans Greg, much later that night.
“Hey,” Cleo greeted tentatively, even though she found his wounded air annoying.
“Oh. Hey,” he replied, as if he’d only just noticed her sitting on the lone chair in the living room, an overstuffed monstrosity that she’d purchased at a thrift store.
“So . . . I’m pregnant,” she blurted, and he froze on his way to the bathroom. He turned to face her, his mouth gaping and his eyes just about popping out of his skull.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.