American library books » Other » The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance by Fabiola Francisco (find a book to read TXT) 📕

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knows.”

My eyes widen, and my stomach falls into a dark pit. “Huh?” My eyebrows lift as Allyson looks at me with narrowed eyes.

“You’re panicking,” she points out.

“I’m not.” I tug the collar on my t-shirt, taking a deep breath.

“Uh, huh.” She nods, her lips pinched.

“What did she say?” I hold my breath while I wait for her response. The last thing I want is for Charlene to hate me.

“She said everything would work out.” Allyson’s lips press together.

There’s so much I want to say, and nothing is coming out. We sit in silence for a few minutes, eating our food. This is a mess because of my relationship with her family, and I know Easton is going to kick my ass when he finds out. But I made my choice, and now I have to deal with the consequences.

When I can’t take the awkward tension that’s settled over the table, I clear my throat and say, “Have you gone to the doctor?”

“Yeah, on Friday. I wanted to make sure the pregnancy tests weren’t damaged and giving me false positives. Wishful thinking at the moment, but I’m pregnant. Everything looks okay.”

“Do you resent me?” The question spits out of my mouth faster than I can catch it, but hearing her say it was wishful thinking she wasn’t pregnant made me think she might. It isn’t ideal, I get that, but does she hate me because of this?

Allyson shakes her head. “If I resented you, then I’d have to resent myself. We both did this, so I’m not pointing the finger at you and playing innocent. We made a choice, and well,” she rubs her stomach, “we got an unexpected surprise.” Her eyebrows rise and fall in a quick motion.

“I won’t have an abortion, even if you ask me to. I can’t do it.” Allyson shakes her head sadly, and my heart goes into overdrive.

“I’d never ask that. If I didn’t want to be in the baby’s life, I’d tell you and move on. I wouldn’t force you to make a choice that you don’t want.”

She’s talking as if she doesn’t know me at all. Although, I guess when it comes to relationships and women, she doesn’t know me and is probably using her judgment of what she thinks my bachelor life is like to judge this situation and my reaction.

“I did think about adoption and giving a family who’s always wanted a child their happy ending.”

“What?” I jump in, more forceful than I mean to. Allyson’s eyes bug out as she leans back on her chair.

“Sorry, sorry.” I settle down. “Here’s the thing, I want this baby. I’ll help you. I can’t imagine knowing a child of mine is being raised by another family when I’m capable of raising him.”

“Or her,” Allyson interrupts me.

“Or her,” I echo. “What I’m saying is that yes, this is totally out of my element, but knowing I have the means to raise this baby and then giving that up isn’t what I envisioned.”

“So, you’re saying that you really do want to be a part of this?” Her chin tilts toward her chest, and she looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, that’s what I said earlier.” I lean forward, placing my elbows on the table. “I’m here for this.” I reach for her hand and squeeze.

Allyson’s gaze falls to our hands and then back to my eyes, her face serious and shoulders tense. I’ve been wanting to touch her again. Teasing her over messages is fun, but it’s not what I want since we woke up on the same bed together.

“How do we do that? I live here, and you live in Richmond.” I’ve tossed that question in my mind over a hundred times.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise.” I nod with a small smile.

Allyson releases a deep breath and her eyes water. I give her hand one more squeeze in an attempt to comfort her.

“We should get going,” Allyson says softly, and I hate seeing the sadness in her eyes.

Nodding, I grab our garbage and throw it away before following her out of the deli, my hand in the small of her back.

As we make our way back to her apartment so I can grab my suitcase, I ask, “Can we get together tonight when you’re done with work?”

“Yeah, sure. I guess we still have a lot to talk about. What hotel are you staying in?”

“It’s called Hotel Real. It was the closest I could find to here.”

Allyson giggles at my response, and I furrow my eyebrows as I wait for her to tell me what’s so damn funny.

“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s Re-al,” she corrects my pronunciation of the hotel, saying it in Spanish instead of real in English as in this is a real shit-show. “It means royal.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought my Spanish-English dictionary with me.”

“Did you really?” Her nose scrunches up.

“Yup.” I open one of the compartments on the outside of my bag and pull out my dictionary. Allyson laughs again, and I don’t give three shits that she’s laughing at me so long as I can see the light around her green eyes return.

“This will help me navigate these streets and not look like a complete ass,” I defend.

“And paging through a dictionary makes you look as if you know what you’re doing?” She quirks an eyebrow and gives me a smart-ass smile. Fuck, in this moment, I want to try that baby-making skill again. She’s already pregnant, so why the hell not?

“Also, I’d expect a tech whiz to use technology for translations, not a physical dictionary,” she giggles.

Taking a step toward her, I hold up my dictionary. “This is how the cool kids do it. Besides, I’m going to need a crash course in Spanish if I’m going to be around. Unless you want to give me some one-on-one courses.” I lower my head, whispering the last part. Allyson gasps, and her full lips part. Her silence and frantic, wide eyes telling me she isn’t

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