My Brother's Bad Best Friend

by B. B. Hamel

  Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change my reality.

  I’m going to have Aaron’s baby, and it feels like my life is about to end forever.

  2

  Aaron

  “Picture this. You come home from a long day at the office, you’re tired, your feet hurt, and it’s storming like crazy outside. All your neighbors lost power hours ago, but not you. The lights pop on instantly, and the temperature is perfect. You don’t have a generator, oh no. You have Sunrise Limited solar panels, plus our patented power storage options. You have peace of mind, you have stability. You have your life.”

  I can tell they’re not buying my bullshit, and that’s okay. I’ve been spinning this same line over and over for what feels like years, although it’s really been a week. I’m sick of my own voice at this point, which is a first for me, but it was bound to happen at some point. I’ve been calling every major retailer in the game, every single deep-pocketed investor, trying to talk to them about our future release, with little to no success as of yet. Only frustration on top of frustration.

  The investors are all gun-shy when it comes to new technology, and the retailers are all worried about their bottom lines. I suspect I’ll have more success with the investors, considering those men all part with their money based on relationships, and I’ve been cultivating those relationships for a long time. But my boss isn’t interested in a quick infusion of cash. He’s not interested in retooling or building infrastructure. He wants retailers, and so that’s what I’m fucking stuck with.

  “Well, gentlemen, thanks for talking to me,” I say after they make their polite excuses. We end the call and I lean back at my desk, sighing and stretching a little bit.

  It’s not easy, trying to take this company into the next century. Nobody wants to believe in our technology, which is entirely my fault. I’m supposed to be teaching them, but it’s pretty damn hard when all anyone wants is the old way.

  I want to give them the new way, and I want to do it right now. No more waiting, no more bullshit. We can have it all.

  I stand up, stretching my legs. I have a few more calls coming up, but I need to put them off for a little while. I head to my door and walk out into the main office, looking around at the little cubes and their little occupants, wonder how much genius I can squeeze out of these people, or if we’re at our maximum.

  There’s one person I know who has way more to give. She’s been on my mind ever since she started here, and even more so after that little weekend convention trip we took. I keep thinking about Riley’s body under mine, the way she moved her hips, the way she moaned my name. It was some of the best sex I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some pretty fucking good sex. She seems so stuck-up and dorky on the outside, but as soon as I was kissing her, I knew that was all just a façade.

  It’s more than just sex with her, though. She showed some real promise back at that convention. She got some serious dinosaurs to understand what we’re trying to do here, something I haven’t been able to do, not completely at least. Maybe it’s because she’s the one who invented a lot of it, or maybe she just has a gift that she doesn’t even know about. Either way, she was pretty damn marvelous, at least when she decided she wanted to give a shit.

  After that night, she really shut me down. I tried to pry some of that brilliance out of her the next day, but she wasn’t having it. No matter how hard I pushed or what tactics I tried, she just wasn’t having it.

  I thought that might cool off after a while, you know, let her have some space back at the office, but nope. She’s still distant and angry with me, and I have no clue why.

  It’s frustrating. I want to fuck her again, taste her again, but I know that probably won’t happen. I can deal with that, although grudgingly. I can’t force her to be into it, even though I’m pretty sure she already is.

  At the very least, we have to have a working relationship. As of right now, we don’t, and I’m tired of it.

  I find Riley in the break room after checking her workstation. One of her engineers gives her up almost immediately, almost as if they’ve been expecting me.

  She doesn’t react when I come in the room. She gives me the same unhurried, almost lazily annoyed glare she’s been fixing on me since the convention.

  “I was looking for you,” I say to her.

  “You found me.”

  “I thought we might talk.” I come further into the room, shutting the door behind me. We’re alone with only the buzz of the vending machines for company. She’s sitting at a table toward the back and she doesn’t move as I approach and sit across from her.

  “Okay,” she says. “What’s up?” She crosses her arms and fixes an even more annoyed glare at me.

  I decide to ignore it, like I have been since it started. “I have some calls today,” I say.

  “Good for you.”

  “I was hoping you could help me.”

  She hesitates, and I can tell I surprised her. “Help you?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.

  “You were good with the dinosaurs,” I explain. “I could really use your expertise on the phone.”

  “Dinosaurs?” I catch a hint of amusement in her tone.

  “You know, old guys that have been in this industry since the start. The kind of guys that don’t want to change and think your whole tech is bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit,” she says angrily.

  “I know that,” I answer, softening my tone and spreading my hands wide. “I’m trying to convince them, but I’m not always succeeding.”

  “That’s your job,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t have time to do it for you.”

  I lean back in my chair, pursing my lips. “It’ll be good for both of us,” I say. “Get some interest, make the bosses know you’re a team player.”

  “I don’t need to be a team player,” she says flatly. “I build the things. You sell them. Now, are we done here?”

  She pushes back from the table, and I know I’m losing her. This is how she always is with me, cold and distant and just professional enough to keep people from suspecting anything.

  But I can see it, painted all over her body language. It’s so obvious, she might as well be screaming in my face.

  She freaking hates me. I mean, really, she despises me. Hates my fucking guts, and I have no clue why.

  As she’s walking past me, I reach out on instinct. I know I shouldn’t, it’s a stupid, boneheaded move, but I grab her wrist and turn her toward me. She glares down at me like my hand is made of hot lava.

  “Why the fuck do you despise me?” I ask her.

  The sharp retort she was about to bite off at me dies on her lips. Her eyes meet mine and for a second, I see a glimmer of something there. It’s not the normal pure loathing, but something else, something much different.

  It’s desire. I swear, it’s desire, like she wants me to pull her closer and fuck her tight little cunt until she screams. I grip her wrist harder and for a second, I think I just might do it. Forget about anyone that might walk in, I don’t care. I’d throw this job away for one more taste of her.

  Instead, though, she recoils and pulls her hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she says, stepping back. “And I don’t hate you.”

  “Yes, you do.” I stand up, dedicated to this now. It’s not the best move, but fuck it. I need to start selling product, and I need her on my team.

  She shakes her head, eyes wide. “I don’t, I just… I don’t work for you, okay? I’m an engineer. I don’t want to sell anything.”

  I wave that away. “You’ve been acting like I’m a murderer ever since we came back from that conference,” I say. “I get it, you’re all high and mighty because you don’t have to sell anything. You get to make your machines and all that without getting your hands dirty with the commerce. But face it, that’s not what’s happening here.”

  She stares at me and I stare right back. I’m not letting her win this, not for a second. She’s not leaving this room until I understa
nd what her problem is.

  “You want to know?” she asks softly.

  “Yeah, I want to know. Tell me what I did to make you hate me so much.”

  She stares for a second before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

  “You got me pregnant.”

  I stare as she storms out of the room without another word. I stand there at a total loss, like a bomb just went off, and I’m trying to pick up all my missing limbs.

  3

  Riley

  That didn’t go well.

  I kick my feet up onto my couch and bury my head under some blankets and pillows. I scream into it for a second, trying to get this anger and frustration out of me.

  I shouldn’t have told Aaron like that. That was stupid and selfish and I was a total jerk to him for no reason. Well, I mean, I have a good reason to be angry with him, but if I’m honest, I’m really angry with myself.

  This shouldn’t have happened. When I was younger, the doctors told me I have what’s called a “lazy ovary.” It means I ovulate, but rarely and randomly, so I never really know when there’s an egg and when there isn’t. The doctor told me it’s highly unlikely that I’d ever get pregnant, and so I’ve been living my life assuming that it would never, ever happen.

  Obviously, that was a stupid idea.

  I wish they were just a little lazier. I mean, did I really have to be ovulating on that exact night? It was stupid to fuck him without protection, and I’m just as much to blame as he is, probably even more. Still, I can’t help but feel irrationally angry at him. I mean, he got me pregnant. This is all his fault, and I’m the one left with the baby, not him.

  Now he knows. I told him the wrong way, basically while throwing a tantrum, but now he knows. He’s been calling all day, even followed me back to my desk before I glared at him and told him to fuck off in a harsh whisper. That made him go away, but only temporarily. He was calling me ten minutes later, but I haven’t answered him yet.

  I can’t answer him. I check my phone and sigh. Ten missed calls, although he hasn’t tried in the last half hour. Maybe he’s figuring it out. I don’t want to talk to him about anything, let alone about this baby.

  I’m putting it up for adoption. Boy or girl, I don’t care. I can’t go through with an abortion, mostly because I’m afraid and my doctor told me there may be unforeseen complications due to my condition, so that option’s off the table. I’m going to carry this baby to term, give birth to it, and give it away to some happy, healthy family that deserves a child but can’t have one. I’ll move on with my life, maybe have babies some day in the future, or maybe not. But I know for a fact that I’m not ready to have any right now, especially not with Aaron Ward.

  I can’t believe my brother’s best friend got me pregnant. I mean, it’s almost like a freaking cliché. Davis is going to be so pissed when he finds out. Maybe I can get away with not telling him who the father is, since it really doesn’t matter at the end of the day, but I know he’s going to ask. I’m still close with him, which is normally a good thing, but not so much right now.

  I groan to myself. I want a glass of wine to help me relax, but I can’t. There’s a lot of stuff I can’t eat or drink now, and I feel like shit all the time, and my ankles are swollen. Like, my freaking ankles are swollen, all because I fucked Aaron like a moron.

  It was a good night, though. Such a freaking good night. I’ve never experienced anything like him before. He was so passionate and intense, and he knew just how to work my body. I was sweating and panting and ready for more as soon as it was over, and I could tell he was going to give it to me, if only I would let him.

  But I can’t be thinking about that right now. It doesn’t matter anymore. This is my situation, and I have to figure out how to deal with it. I’m going to be working with Aaron for the foreseeable future, and I suspect he’s going to keep pushing me into helping him with his stuff. I don’t want anything to do with it, but I also can’t let myself lose control again.

  There has to be a balance between hating him and wanting to fuck him, and I better find it quick.

  As I pull myself up and think about getting something to eat, there’s a knock at my apartment door. I hesitate a second, figuring it’s probably a package or something, but the knock comes again.

  I get up and walk over with a frown. The person knocks a third time, so I look out the peephole and into the hallway.

  Aaron’s standing there looking worried.

  I pull back, breathing fast. What the hell is he doing here?

  “Riley, let me in,” he calls out. “I know you’re there. I heard your footsteps.”

  “Shit,” I say under my breath.

  “I heard that,” he answers.

  “Ah, crap.” I sigh and pull the door open slightly, glaring out at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just want to talk.”

  “How do you know where I live?”

  “Not important. Can I please come in?”

  “Tell me how you found my place.”

  He hesitates. “Stole it from HR, okay?”

  I blink, surprised. “Really?”

  “Really. It’s not exactly Fort Knox, you know. Seriously, can I come in? We need to talk.”

  I hesitate. I want to send him packing, but I know I shouldn’t. I step aside and embrace this moment. It was bound to happen sooner or later, anyway. I can’t keep putting this off, even if I only succeeded in doing so for a few hours.

  He heads inside, looking around. “Nice place,” he says.

  “Thanks.” I lead him into the kitchen and I sit him down at the table. “Let’s make this fast, okay?”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “You told me that you’re pregnant earlier, and you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

  “I know.” I look at my nails, at the floor, anywhere but at his gorgeous green eyes. “So what?”

  “So what?” He laughs again. “Riley, that’s batshit insane, you know that, right?”

  I look up at him, anger flaring. “Don’t call me crazy.”

  “Don’t act crazy.” He sighs and puts up his hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Look, I just want to know… is it true, did I really get you pregnant?”

  I let out a breath. I want to keep raging at him, but he looks so…. Handsome. And sad. And sorry. Blah, maybe I should try not being a bitch for one second.

  “Yes,” I say. “It’s true.”

  He nods once. “Okay. How?”

  I blink. “Well, when a man loves a woman…”

  “No, I mean, you told me you can’t get pregnant.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Or were you lying?”

  I wince. “I wasn’t lying. It’s just… complicated.”

  “Explain.”

  I groan a little bit, but I know I have to, so I launch into the whole lazy ovary thing while he listens intently.

  “Okay, I think I get it,” he says finally when I finish. “It’s not that you can’t get pregnant, it’s just… super unlikely.”

  “Right,” I say. “Like incredibly unlikely.”

  “So we got unlucky?” He hesitates. “Or maybe we got lucky.”

  I fix my stare on him. “Unlucky,” I say firmly.

  “Fine.” He shrugs. “Whatever. What now?”

  “What now?” I echo. “Now, nothing. Now we go back to work and pretend like this never happened.”

  “Gonna be hard to do that when you’re, you know, big.”

  “I’m not going to get ‘big,’ asshole,” I say.

  “You know what I mean. When you’re super pregnant.”

  I just shrug a little bit. I don’t want to admit that I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “It won’t be a big deal,” I say instead.

  “Maybe, but you’re carrying my child. I mean, come on, Riley. This is…”

  He was about to say “crazy” but he stops himself.

  “This is hard,” I finish for him.

  “Yeah. It’s hard.”

  “Look, I can mak
e it easy, okay?” I get up and walk away from him, over to the counter. “I’m not having an abortion.”

  His eyes go wide again. “I would never ask you to.”

  “Right, sure.”

  “No, seriously. I would never ask that of you. I wouldn’t… I don’t want that.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised. I feel flustered, but I go ahead anyway. “So that means adoption. There are lots of families out there that would love to give this baby a good home so… that’s what I’ll do.”

  He nods slowly, watching me carefully. “That’s hard,” he says finally.

  “This whole thing is hard,” I bite back.

  He smiles a little, shrugging off my angry tone. “I understand,” he says.

  “Do you?” I cock my head at him, feeling that anger starting to get out of control. “You’re not the one that has to have this baby. You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want you around.”

  He winces and actually looks hurt, which makes me immediately regret saying that. He gathers himself together, though, and slowly stands up, his eyes locked on mine.

  “I get it, you’re better than me,” he says, taking a step closer. “You think you’re above selling and above people that sell. You’re the genius girl that’s improving this product, and I’m just some suit and tie, isn’t that right?”

  “I didn’t—” I start, but he interrupts me.

  “I get it. You can hate me all you want, and honestly, I’m starting to feel the same way. But like it or not, we have to work together, and you’re carrying my baby.”

  I stare at him. “It’s not your baby.”

  He hesitates. “Yes, it is.”

  “You got me pregnant. But it’s not yours.”

  That makes him nod and come closer. “It’s absolutely mine, and you think you can give it up for adoption.” He cocks his head at me. “What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

  I stare at him and clench the counter. “You don’t have any control over that,” I say.

  “You’re wrong.” He stops and he’s so close to me, just like that night. I want to feel him reach out and grab my wrist again like he did earlier today. I want to feel his touch so badly, but I also want to slap him across his handsome fucking face.