Jasmine’s eyes narrowed and her mouth pouted.

“I knew it,” she said, pushing her cup away. “You just don’t like Ethan.”

“It’s not that.” Dammit, why had she said that? She needed to be careful here. “It’s just what I said. You two have fights all the time. You don’t trust him.”

“Yes, I do.”

Remi resisted the protest that sprang to her lips. Fine. “Okay. Could you just let me think about it? Maybe there’s another way.”

Jasmine stood up and crossed her arms across her chest. “There is no other way. We don’t have enough money and we’ll never have enough money for a down payment. The way the economy is now, we’ll be lucky if we ever have a house. How are we supposed to have kids, living in an apartment?”

Remi stared at her, aghast. “You want to have kids?”

“Well, maybe someday.”

Oh dear God. Jasmine was a very young twenty-one-year-old. There was no possible way she was mature enough to be a mother.

It was all her fault. She’d reared Jasmine for the last five, nearly six years. She should have made her more independent, more responsible. But no. She was too busy being the responsible one, taking responsibility for everything.

Suddenly Remi felt very heavy and very tired, the weight of it all pressing down on her shoulders. She slumped a bit.

“I’ll think about it,” she said slowly. “I promise.”

“Fine.” Jasmine turned and flounced out.

* * *

Jason squinted at Brianne. “You’re what? Pregnant?” Is that really what she’d said?

“Yes.” She twisted her fingers together on her lap, still looking at his chest.

Why was she telling him this? Did she think he’d be upset? He didn’t care about Brianne’s life anymore, he’d moved on. She had to know that.

Suddenly his gut cramped. She couldn’t be telling him this because… Holy fuck. Did she think he was the father?

“Brianne.” His voice came out sounding funny. “Why are you telling me this?”

She looked at him blankly. “I thought I should. You have a right to know.”

“Are you saying…?” He felt his throat close up, paused. Tried again. “Are you saying I’m the father?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course you’re the father! There hasn’t been anyone else.”

The room moved around him, shifted, faded away. He wasn’t sitting, he was floating. He gripped the armrests of the chair to hold himself in place. His vision went foggy and he felt like his brains were spinning around in his head.

It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t be pregnant. It was a mistake.

“You’re on the Pill.”

She nodded, bending her head. “Yes. But…” She shrugged. “I guess we’re one of those point-zero-one percent where it doesn’t work. For whatever reason. I don’t know.”

“Are you sure? How do you know? You could just be late.”

Jason’s fingers ached from clenching the upholstery and he tried to relax. His ass was almost lifting out of the chair, his body had gone so tight and rigid.

“I did two tests. Just to make sure.”

He stared at her, the room still moving in circles like a bad case of bed spins after too much partying. And then he shook his head. Was this for real?

“Brianne. You’re not just doing this to try to get back together, are you?”

Her mouth dropped open. “No!”

“Are you sure?” She’d been phoning him all the time, wanting to talk. This couldn’t be true. “How far along are you?”

“Two months.”

But…but… “Brianne. We broke up two months ago. Are you sure there hasn’t been anyone else?”

“They start counting from the first day of your last period,” she said, her voice low. “Which was two weeks before we broke up. It probably happened that last night…” Her words ended on a small sob and she pressed a hand to her mouth. “I’m not exactly happy about this either. There goes my Victoria’s Secret job.”

That did sound like Brianne, but…

He narrowed his eyes at her. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Anger surged inside him that she would stoop this low.

“You’d better go,” he said, rising.

“What?” She stared at him. “You really don’t believe me?”

He slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

“Jase!” Her cry sounded distressingly anguished. “I’m telling you the truth! I wouldn’t lie about this!”

He shook his head stubbornly, folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin. “Just leave, Brianne.”

“But…but…what do I have to do to make you believe me?”

He scowled. “I don’t know.”

“If I…show you the pregnancy test…?”

He pursed his lips. “That’ll prove you’re pregnant, I guess. It won’t prove I’m the father.”

“Jase!” Her eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t been with anyone else! I love you!”

Fuck. He closed his eyes.

“I can get something from my doctor,” she said, standing, her fingers twisting together. “My doctor can tell you how many weeks I am. Then you’ll know.”

He gave a jerky nod. “Yeah. You do that,” he said. She wouldn’t get anything from her doctor. Because it wasn’t true.

* * *

He wasn’t even going to tell Remi about it. Because it was just so crazy and there was no need for her to get all upset about it. Jesus! He swiped a hand across his forehead as he drove back to her place later. They’d decided to just order pizza and celebrate his win at her place.

When he got there, she greeted him looking a little like a goaltender who’d just been bombarded with fifty shots on goal with no defense. Which was pretty much how he felt. He sucked in a breath as he kissed her.

“You won’t believe what happened,” she said. He followed her into her kitchen where she began to open a bottle of wine.

Oh, man. He could say the same to her. But he wasn’t going to.

“My sister wants me to sell the house,” she said.

“You’re kidding? Why?” He reached for the bottle and corkscrew she was struggling with. “Here. Let me.” He popped the cork out and poured wine into two glasses while she told him about her earlier conversation with Jasmine.

But his mind drifted off, back to that horrifying conversation with Brianne. He still couldn’t believe she would go that far to try to get him back.

“Jason?”

He looked up at Remi. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You seem…distracted.”

He forced a smile, his body tight and twitchy. “Yeah. Fine. Go on.”

He tried to listen, he really did, but his thoughts were all over the place and Remi was noticing. Jesus. He had to stop thinking about Brianne. He firmly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Remi. “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She looked around her. “I love this house. But it’s true. Kyle and Jasmine are entitled to their share of the house. Even though I think they need this place to come home to. At least for a while.”

He nodded and drank some of the wine. Then the words just popped out of his mouth. “You know…you could move in with me.”

He couldn’t believe he was sitting there calmly, steadily looking at Remi, inviting her to move in with him, and his heart wasn’t racing, his gut wasn’t heaving, his neck and shoulders weren’t rock-hard with tension.

He’d thought about it earlier and now the idea had slid into his head like a puck gliding into the net, and before he’d even had time to think about it, he’d said it. He wanted Remi to live with him.

She stared at him. “What?”

“You could move in with me.” He reached for her hand. “I want you to live with me.”

She moved her head slowly from side to side, pretty lips parted. “But we hardly know each other. We can’t move in together.”

“We know each other,” he said, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand. “I love you, Remi. I want to live with you.”

“Are you crazy?”

He remembered the last time they’d had a conversation like this and how heated and angry her question had been. This time her voice was soft, wondering. He grinned. “No, I mean it.”

“Wow.” She blinked at him. “That’s a pretty serious step for a guy who just wants to have fun.”

“It would be fun living with you,” he said. “I know it.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Jason, there’s more to it than that.”

“I know. I actually thought of it this morning, how much easier everything would be if we lived together. Just think about it. Maybe this thing with Jasmine will blow over. There’s no rush. But you know…even if you don’t have to sell the house…think about it.”

She nodded, her eyes a little dazed. “Okay.”

“Let’s order pizza. I’m starving.”

* * *

It took Brianne a week.

She showed up at his apartment the next Saturday, grim-faced and pissed. “Here,” she said, shoving a paper into his hand. “Nine weeks. Now do you believe me?”

He stared down at the note on official medical stationery. It looked…real.

His stomach heaved, his mouthed filled with saliva and he swallowed repeatedly. He could not puke. He could not puke.

“And I brought this too,” she snapped, pulling a plastic baggie out of her purse. She handed it to him too. He looked at the plastic stick inside. “That’s the pregnancy test I took. For the third damn time.” Her lips tightened into a thin line. She glared at him.

He wiped his mouth. The silence stretched out, long and thick.

A million questions backed up in his brain. He closed his eyes.

Jesus. A baby. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing to do?” He sounded like his voice was coming from far away, echoing in his ears.

“I’m…I’m going to have the baby.”