Page 71 of Forking the Billionaire

“It was only one time. We used protection,” she said even softer than before.

Selfishly, I wanted to ask the question that had plagued me since I found the test on her counter. Was Ziggy the father?

Cool moisture spread across my chest—her tears. I kept holding her, rubbing gentle circles over her back. My heart ached for her.

She stayed there, clinging to me, before she continued. “I just found out. At the doctor’s on Friday. It’s hardly been enough time to come to terms with the fact that this is happening.”

“That must be overwhelming,” I said.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, some of her usual fight coming back. “I’ve hardly figured out what I want in my own life, and I’m about to become responsible for someone else’s.”

She had to be terrified. Again, I wondered if Ziggy was there supporting her. The image of the two of them in the water together filled my head, then the two of them at the bar flinging a fork at my head, him grabbing her and lifting her onto the stage.

The ache in my chest turned to numbness as I forced myself to ask, “Have you told the father?”

“Psh.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “He’s back in Epiphany. He’s not going to be in the picture.”

She hadn’t met Ziggy until she came here. He wasn’t the father. Relief flooded my veins, and I felt terrible for it.

“It’s me. Alone in this.” Esme tilted her chin up, imploring me with her big brown eyes.

There were no words to explain how shredded it made me feel to see her so vulnerable. If there were someone to punch, a name for the selfish piece of garbage who hurt her like this, I would.

“You’re not alone,” I said.

“I can’t tell Gabe, not until after the wedding. And honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to tell him even then. The last thingI want is for him to go all dad-mode, and try to drag me back to Epiphany so he can micromanage every aspect of my life. I need this to bemylife, do the whole pregnancy thing onmyterms. And I’m keeping my baby.”

She was fighting for autonomy. She was fighting to save sea turtles and to explore haunted ruins. She was strong and loyal and loving. She was fighting for the life she wanted, because that’s who she was.

“I see you, Esme Stryker,” I said. “You’re a warrior. And you’ll be a great mom.”

She half laughed, half cried in a bubble of sound.

“You don’t know how good it feels to have someone to talk to. I haven’t wanted anyone to know, but now that you do, there’s a weight lifted.”

I didn’t know anything about being a parent, so I didn’t know how I could actually help her, but I was happy to be able to offer her a friendly, nonjudgmental ear. “I’m glad. You can tell me anything. I want to be the friend you need.”

She loosened her grip on my shirt, ran her hands up my chest, and cupped my cheeks. Her gaze flicked to my lips.

I tilted my chin down to meet her as she lifted on tiptoes.

And she kissed me. It was soft, imploring, and raw.

This kiss wasn’t a shock. It wasn’t desperate. It was two people grazing each other in the darkness, both unclear what would happen. I knew I wasn’t supposed to let this happen again, but I couldn’t stop it.

I squeezed her tighter, sure that if I let go, it would break us both.

I let her lead, let her take things deeper, and met her tongue with the same gentle pressure she offered me. We could be friends who offered comfort to each other.

Far too soon, she pulled away.

The certainty I’d felt washed away, leaving an Esme-shaped coldness against my skin.

All of my internal reassurances about friendship vanished. My cock ached, my head pounded, and all I could think about was how I needed more of her, all of her.

“I thought there wasn’t any kissing allowed on Turtle Beach,” I said, relishing the feel of her still on my lips.

“I thought you admired the way I take what I want.” She guided my hand to her breast and held it there, with a spark of familiar mischief sparkling in her eyes.

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