BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER

Since she’d found out that she was pregnant, fretting over the alternatives she was faced with, such sleep as she’d had had been restless and plagued with tortuous dreams. But last night she’d been so exhausted, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes open.

In consequence she felt rested, more rested than she’d done in a long time.

Not since Kaleb had come back into her life, in fact. However, it was time to get up and face the day and it wasn’t just the familiar nausea that was causing her stomach to quiver in protest. Dear God, what had Tilly really thought when her brother had thrown open the door and stormed out of the house without any reasonable word of explanation the night before?

At the time, however, Tilly had gazed after her brother as if she didn’t understand the situation. And then she’d looked at Sasha and found she was wearing only a bathrobe and an expression Sasha didn’t quite understand had crossed her face.

Sasha’s own face had been burning. She’d been all too aware that her lips were bruised and she had stubble burns on her cheeks. Tilly wasn’t a fool. She must have guessed exactly what he’d interrupted. Which was why she’d hurriedly agreed to go to bed, but Sasha wasn’t sure of anything. Maybe it was just her guilty conscience playing games with her.

She told Tilly she wouldn’t be having breakfast with her because she had work to do, and then she left. She hurried home, put her house in order and fell asleep again. When she woke up, it was almost evening. She took a shower, got dressed quickly and drove to Kaleb’s house, hoping that he’d be back from his conference. She contemplated calling at first, but decided against it because she didn’t want anything to make her get cold feet.

Twenty minutes later, she arrived. She narrowed her eyes, lifting a hand and wiping it over her forehead. She was warm-the sun was beating down, even now in the early evening, and she felt like the AC in her car wasn’t doing much to help for some reason. She was tired, too, which was weird, but the exhaustion of the first trimester was kicking in again.

As she approached, one of the security men came to speak to her. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked.

“I need to see Kaleb Luthor. It’s important.” she replied.

The security guard flicked his gaze over Sasha, his expression unchanging. “Is he expecting you?”

She had expected this resistance. “If you tell him my name, I’m certain he’ll want to see me.”

The guard’s skepticism was obvious. “And that is?”

“Sasha. Sasha Sullivan” she replied softly.

The guard spoke into his walkie-talkie. She discerned her own name in the rapid delivery of information. Then, he clicked the walkie-talkie back to his hip.

“He says you can go up.”

“Thank you.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Nerves were jangling inside her, doubts firing in her gut. Maybe she should turn around. Go back home. Call him with this information. Or not. She had no idea. She just suddenly knew the thought of coming face-to-face with Kaleb with this news filled her with ice.

She was going to be sick.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

But she’d come all this way. She’d grappled with this for weeks now, she’d faced the reality of being pregnant with Kaleb’s baby, trying to work out the best way to tell him. She had to tell him-there was nothing for it.

“I will be.” Yes, she would be. She needed simply to get this over with. The faster the better. Sasha’s smile was tight as she started to drive in, “Thank you.”

She parked her car, got out, pulled a face, straightened her spine and began to walk into the house. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t want to be here. She just needed to tell him and get out.

“Miss Sullivan?” A woman wearing a uniform approached Sasha, a professional smile on her pretty face. “This way, please.”

Sasha nodded stiffly, falling into step beside the woman. She pushed a door open and Sasha followed. “Would you like anything to drink, miss?”

Sasha shook her head. “No, thank you.” She replied. She wasn’t sure she could even take anything at the moment without throwing up. She waited until she was alone and then scanned the room, her eyes taking in the obvious signs of wealth that were littered without care. Luxury and money. Designer furniture filled out this room, a television the size of her bed on one wall, and through the glass partition a huge bedroom with a spa against the windows.

Kaleb’s bedroom?

Her pulse picked up a notch and on autopilot she wandered towards it, her heart hammering against her chest as she pushed the door open.

Yes. She couldn’t say how she knew, only there was something in the air, his masculine, alpine fragrance that instantly jolted her senses. She backed out quickly, as though the very fires of hell were lining the floor in there. She had to do this. She would tell him, and then leave, giving him a chance to digest it, and to consider her wishes. This would be over in minutes.

Minutes.

She waited, and with each moment that passed her nerves stretched tighter, thinner, finer and more tremulous, so, five minutes later, she honestly thought she might pass out. She was on the brink of leaving the room and going in search of Kaleb herself when the door burst inwards and he strode into the room, wearing only a pair of shorts, and a look that showed his impatience with her arrival.

He looked so relaxed… Unlike herself who was stressed. Was he with someone? Probably Claire. Jealousy tore through her, but Sasha told herself it was outrage. Outrage that she’d been agonizing over the baby they were going to have while he’d slipped out of bed and gone back to his normal life as though it had never happened.

If she’d held even a single shred of hope that he might be glad to see her, it disappeared immediately. “Sasha” His eyes roamed her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you” she said carelessly, and she was glad for the outrage because it helped her not care about how he felt. “I wanted to tell you that… That I’m pregnant.”