Page 63 of Forking the Billionaire

I debated asking Gabriel what she was up to, but decided against it. Instead, I ate and waited for a good opportunity to excuse myself. Then I walked to Esme’s house.

With every step, my legs felt heavier. Mock conversations flitted through my brain. In every one, I apologized, she yelled, and I wished I could take back the morning. I wished I’d never kissed her.

I reached her porch and hesitated with my fist in the air, an inch from knocking.

Could we pretend it never happened? I hoped so.

Everything would go back to normal once I apologized, swore I’d never touch her again, and we agreed to pretend that kiss never happened.

I knocked.

The door creaked as it inched open.

“Esme?” I called out into the dark house.

I flicked the switch by the door, lighting the living room. It was an airy space, cleaner than I would expect from her. She’d always been the type to leave a pile of clothes on her bedroom floor and candy trash on her nightstand.

“Esme, are you here?”

She still didn’t answer. The house was completely quiet besides the soft sounds of the ocean.

I felt like I shouldn’t be here since she didn’t seem to be home. Except if she was, and something was wrong, I’d never forgive myself for leaving without helping her. She’d been sick. She was hiding something. The right move was to find her, make sure she was okay, and apologize. Then I could leave.

At the kitchen counter, I noticed white plastic sticks stacked like a Jenga tower.

Curious, I lifted one from the top of the pile.

The tower came tumbling down.

I realized what I was holding.

It was a pregnancy test.

My mind whirled like leaves caught in a tornado. I was an uninvited guest, stepping headfirst into a brand-new disaster.

If Esme had been pissed at me before, she was about to be livid.

I had no right to see this. It was none of my business. But it was too late to walk away, not when I’d already seen the results.

Positive.

EIGHTEEN

ESME

One more day until the wedding rehearsal. Three days until the wedding. That was a perfectly nice amount of time to spend with my brother and future sister-in-law, a perfectly reasonable amount of time to put off dealing with my own life, and a perfectly miserable amount of time to be stuck with Jasper.

Yesterday, he’d kissed me. Worse, I’d kissed him back. Worst of all, I’d wanted to do more than kiss him.

In an unexplainable moment of insanity, I’d attached myself to him like he was a pickup truck careening down the highway going ninety, and I was a sticky little anole whose life depended on my ability not to get dislodged. And then I’d gyrated my lizard hips on top of his hood.

Oh my. No. No, brain. Just no.

Then of course after the scuba trip, I’d thought about that kiss all night at work. The flare of his nostrils, the intensity in his emerald eyes sharp enough to cut, the fervor with which he devoured my mouth.

But that was yesterday. So fresh day, fresh start, right?

Now, we were spending a sunny afternoon exploring the market as a group. I was completely prepared to not think aboutJasper at all. He didn’t seem to care, though, because I could feel him staring at me.

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