All Chapters of Pregnant After One Night With My Brother's Best Friend : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Emery’s POV The man behind the desk isn't what I expect. I'd pictured someone older, grey at the temples, the kind of arrogance that comes with decades of money. Instead the man looking back at me can't be much older than Alaric. He has dark hair, sharp jaw, an expensive suit that fits like it was made for exactly this moment.For one traitorous second, I catch myself comparing the line of his jaw to Alaric's. I shove the thought away immediately.Seriously, Emery? You're standing in your new CEO’s office. Not auditioning men for a lineup. “Miss Collins.” He doesn't stand from his seat, just gestures toward the chair across from him. “Adrian Lancaster.” “Emery Collins.” I sit, my folder pressed to my lap like it might shield me from whatever this is. He studies me for a moment longer than feels comfortable, something calculating behind his eyes that I can't quite place. “You know Alaric Ford?” The question catches me completely off guard. “I'm sorry?” “Alaric Ford.” He says

Emery's POVThe drive home is a blur of red lights and my own pulse pounding in my ears. By the time I pull into the driveway, I've rehearsed the same furious sentence in my head a dozen different ways, each one sharper than the last. He had no right. He doesn't get to just take my son.I storm through the front door ready to say all of it at once.Then I stop.The kitchen light spills into the hallway, and through the window, I see them. Alaric at the cooking gas with a dish towel slung over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up, flipping something in a pan while Muna perches on a stool beside him, swinging his legs, chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth from whatever they made together. Muna says something I can't quite hear, and Alaric laughs, an actual laugh, low and unguarded, nothing like the careful, controlled sound I've heard from him since he arrived.For a moment I just stand there in the doorway, unnoticed, watching.Something in my chest gives way before I can stop it.

Emery's POVI walk back to my desk with the folder pressed hard against my chest, my mind still turning over what just happened in Adrian's office.Jossie glances up as I sit down. "So? What'd he say?""He wants significant revisions." I keep my voice flat, trying to sound calmer than I feel. "Most of it, apparently."Jossie's whole face changes."Most of it?" She sets her pen down hard enough that it rolls off the desk. "Emery, that account was perfect. I helped you build almost half of it. There's nothing wrong with that work.""I know.""Then what is his problem?" Her voice climbs, loud enough that a couple of heads turn nearby. She catches herself, drops it back down, though the anger stays plain on her face. "This isn't normal, Em. New CEOs don't do this. Not on someone's second day.""I don't know what his problem is." I do, actually, or at least I have a guess now, but I'm not ready to say Alaric's name out loud in the middle of the office. "I just need to get it done.""Let me

Emery's POVJossie had texted back within minutes of my message that night with an immediate offer. ‘YES. Finally! I have someone perfect. Don't overthink it, just show up Saturday at 5.’ I don’t tell her I'm only doing it for Muna's sake. Some things feel easier left unsaid, even to Jossie.Saturday morning, I drop Muna off at her place by myself, his bag packed with his favorite snacks and a book he refuses to go out without.Alaric left the house before either of us was awake, some important meeting he mentioned briefly to Finn the night before, gone before I even got the chance to ask if he'd be around to watch Muna. It works out easier this way anyway. Jossie loves having him over, and I don't have to explain to my six year old why his mother is getting dressed up to go on a date that isn't really a date at all.By the time I stand in front of the restaurant that evening, smoothing down my dress for the second time, I've half convinced myself this is a perfectly reasonable plan

Emery's POVThe question sits in the air between us, and for one traitorous second, my heart does something stupid and hopeful.I watch his face instead of looking away. Something flashes behind his eyes, quick, raw, unmistakable, gone almost as fast as it appears. His jaw tightens. His hand curls into a fist at his side, fingers digging into his own palm hard enough that I can see the strain in his knuckles even in the dim streetlight.He doesn't say anything.The silence stretches. One second. Two. Long enough that some small, foolish part of me actually believes he might answer yes to my question. He doesn't.And underneath the hurt, the anger finally catches up with me too, the anger I'd shoved aside the second he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of that restaurant like I belonged to him. He humiliated me in front of Joan. In front of an entire dining room full of strangers who probably watched a man haul a woman out of her own date without a single word of explanation. He h