Ethan shook his head. “It’s after eight and you just got home. That’s not right!”
No, it wasn’t, and I thanked the heavens that he hadn't known I worked late most nights. Tonight, I had been too tired and achy to take the subway and indulged in a much too expensive ride back to Hammersmith.
“I’m 25, Ethan, not 82!” I said as I opened the door. “You’re out every night way past that and you're 29.”
“Yes, but you’re pregnant,” he hissed.
I shook my head a little at his overprotectiveness. “Yes, pregnant, not sick.”
He put the bags on the counter and detailed my face. “You look tired.”
I removed my shoes and coat, nodding; there was only so much I could hide from him. “It was a long day.” I forced a smile. “But at least tomorrow is Friday.”
“Why don’t you go change and I’ll set the table?”
“Okay.” I was so grateful to be able to just put my feet up and let him take care of me, and I was honestly too weary to argue.
When I came back dressed in my most comfy pair of sweatpants, my stomach grumbled at the smell of tomato and oregano.
“Spaghetti meatballs?”
He grinned, taking the seat across from me. “You know it.”
“God, you’re the perfect man.”
He laughed as I shoved a whole meatball into my mouth.
His smile wavered a little as he inspected my face while I was chewing on the obscenely delicious meat.
“You really look exhausted, sweetheart.” He sighed, rubbing his neck. “Maybe I should just tell my parents everything and—”
“Don’t do that,” I interrupted him. “Hugo wants you to go and beg him, but he’ll get tired soon enough. He’s already easing up.” Look at how easy it was to lie while trying to protect your friend. “You know as well as I do that he doesn’t want the child, and he doesn’t want me. He’s just trying to get his revenge in whatever way he thinks is suitable, but the joke’s on him. He’s paying me triple what I was making before, and I spoke with Jeff—”
“Jeff, the weird headhunter guy?”
I rolled my eyes, getting another meatball from the container. “He’s not weird just because he didn’t want to sleep with you.”
Ethan pointed at his face and then his body. “Have you seen all of this? Of course, he is!”
I chuckled. “Okay, fine, he clearly doesn’t know a good time when he sees it but he’s really good at his job.”
Ethan sighed. “Fine. What did weirdo Jeff say?”
“He said that working for the St-Johns is like getting the golden ticket and that everybody will want to hire me afterward.” I shrugged. “It’s a win-win, and no offense, but your brother is not the only prick I’ve worked for.” But certainly the worst. “He is unknowingly helping me set up a great future for myself and the baby.”
Ethan looked down at his food, remaining silent for a while, which was not a side of him I’d been particularly acquainted with before this ordeal with Hugo.
“So, do you still intend to…” His eyes dipped down to my stomach.
“Keep the baby?” I nodded.
“Even if it’s Satan’s spawn?” he asked, trying to lighten the situation.
I laughed. “Yes, even so.” I leaned against my seat and let out a sigh. “To be honest, I never thought it would turn out like that. I never expected to be a single mother or to have an unplanned child.”
“You know I’m right here, and you also know I’m a trust-fund baby.”
I shook my head. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but Spawn and I will be just fine. I’m not the first or last woman to do it alone and I will not be alone—my parents will be ecstatic once the shock wears off, and I’ll have my best friend, who’s going to be the coolest uncle in the history of the world.” I reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “I have no fear. I know I’ll be okay.”