Page 69 of Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend

He slides his hand out from under my cheek. “Okay? Why? What does she know?”

“everythingng, basically.”

“Why, Hannah?” His response hits me like a punch to the gut.

“Are you mad?”

“Well, it seems like something we should have talked about first, right? I mean, we haven’t even told Tyler. I thought we’d be waiting a while to tell your family.”

I swallow back thick tears that threaten to form as my throat constricts. “I needed my mom, Chris.”

“Oh, God, of course you did. I’m sorry, Hannah.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, wiping my tears. “You’re allowed to have an opinion or be nervous or whatever.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He leans down on one knee, and despite the sadness coursing through me in this moment, a flash of heat runs up and down my body as my heart asks my brain if he’s proposing.

My brain responds that he isn’t.

“I mean that I’m sorry for all of this. You’re so young, and you’ve only had sex a few times at this point. You shouldn’t have to worry about being a mom. You’ve got a new business to run. I feel like I should have been better about boundaries. I hate that you are in this situation when you have so much else going on and so many of your own ambitions to fulfill.”

“I’m an adult, Chris. I make my own choices.”

“I know. I know that. But I do have some years on you and I should have been more thoughtful about where you are in life right now.”

He smiles thinly as I look up at him from my chair.

“It was my responsibility to give you clarity on where those choices could lead. But, in my defense, you were extremely hard to resist. Well, impossible, really, as it happens.”

“Believe it or not, Chris, I already knew that sex could lead to pregnancy.”

I stand up and make my way to the pregnancy tests. I pick out three. “Best two out of three?”

He laughs, and the buzzer to his apartment knocks the smile off his face and the wind out of me. He goes to the front door and hits the button. “Hello?”

“Chris?” My mom’s voice has a robotic quality to it through the grainy technology. “It’s Piper.”

“Come on up.”

Unable to face my mother until I know, I head for the bathroom.

Chapter Thirty

Christopher

Hannah’s mother, Piper, stands at the door, her red hair full of static, stray hairs surrounding her head like a halo.

Her hair is a slightly duller color than Hannah’s, and her eyes are rimmed in thick eyeliner that settles into the creases of her skin.

In her arms is a massive bag of dog food, as though Hannah was planning on staying here forever.

Maybe she is. That wouldn’t be so bad.

“Christopher.” Her voice is serious and prim.

I’ve known her a long time, since Tyler and I were just young men, and she has never greeted me with anything other than akiss on the cheek and a shoulder shake. To be served this frosty glass of disdain hurts.

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