Fuck. Stay calm, Em.
“Same genetics, but wrong Storm,” he says with a wink. “Though I like to believe I'm the better of the two.”
I look him up and down. “Maybe for everyone else, but you know no one holds a candle to your sister for me.”
He hisses in feigned injury. “Ouch. Growing up made you cold.”
Cold isn't the word I'd use, but having to raise my son has made me harder. It's given me a level of confidence I didn't know existed. It's made me strong. I let my eyes rake over Harland once more.
“What are you doing here?”
He gives me a boyish grin that five years ago would have flipped my insides. Hell, it still has an effect, just one I've learned to tame since then.
“I can't come see my favorite little sister?”
I damn near vomit in my mouth. “Ew. Don't call me that.”
Chuckling, he cringes. “Yeah. I realized as soon as I said it.”
The way he's standing there tells me he doesn't have any intentions of leaving, so instead of asking why he's here—a question I'm more than afraid to know the answer to—I step aside to let him in. He smiles charmingly as he walks past me and into my apartment.
“Cozy little place you've got here,” he says.
Yeah, and it looks a hell of a lot better with you in it.
Fuck, focus Emery. It's been less than five minutes, and he's already getting under my skin. As if I haven't been looking at a miniature version of him for nearly four years. How Ashlyn hasn't noticed the resemblance yet is a mystery to me, but I'm not about to point it out. Not when she'd kill me for it. Hell, she'd kill me if she found him here right now, but thankfully that could be justified as him just wanting to catch up.
“So, how've you been?” I ask him, guiding us into safer territory than my thoughts.
He shrugs. “Been better. Ex is a psycho. You know, normal shit.”
I take a seat on the couch across from him. “I heard. That sounds rough.”
The corner of his mouth raises in a smirk. “Don't act like you didn't know she was crazy.”
“I'm not saying that. I’ve always known she's a damn nutcase. But no one could tell you that back then.”
He looks down at his lap and nods. “I was a stupid kid.”
“You were young and in love,” I reason.
“Something like that,” he murmurs, but before I can question it, he changes the subject. “Tell me about you though. How's life been?”
We spend the next half-hour talking about random shit, and I honestly think it might be more than he's ever talked to me at once. I tell him about my job as a marketing executive for a small corporation, and he tells me what Australia is like, knowing I've always wanted to go there. With every second that passes, I start to calm, thinking maybe he's not here for what I thought after all.
“The spiders cannot be that big,” I argue.
He raises his brows at me. “I'm telling you, it was the size of my head. I don't think I've ever heard Rhys scream so loud in my life.”
I can't help but laugh at that thought. Rhys has always been a tough guy, except for the time he tried hitting on me when I was sixteen, and Harland looked like he was going to rip out his jugular.
Reaching over, he grabs a picture off the end table, and my heart starts to race.
Play it fucking cool.
“That's Hollis,” I tell him calmly. “I'm sure your mom or Ash mentioned him.”
He nods. “Your son, right?”
“Yeah.”
A small smile makes its way to his face. “He's cute. Looks like you.”
Don't blush.
Do not blush.
Shit.
“He's a total terror, but in the best ways.”
He chuckles. “That's what Ash said, that being around him for more than an hour and you're ready for a nap.”
“Pretty much,” I giggle.
Everything goes quiet for a second, and I start to look around the room for something I can talk about that isn't the little boy who's half his. I never expected this conversation so soon. Though really, I should have.
“So, how long are you back for?” I question.
He looks up at me, and it's written all over his face. There's no denying it. And he doesn't even try to beat around the bush as I swallow hard. With our gazes locked together, I couldn't break it if I tried. Instead, I'm stuck, just staring at him helplessly. Finally, he speaks.
“He has my eyes, Em.”
Fuck.
Chapter Four
Harland
For hours, I lay in bed, but I'm wide awake. No matter how much I toss and turn, there aren't enough imaginary sheep to count that could help me fall asleep. I mean, how is anyone expected to sleep after they find out they have a son they knew nothing about?
It took me days before I got up the courage to go over to Emery's place, after doing some detective work and sneaking the address from my mom's address book. And once I was there, I bit my tongue for a half-hour before saying something about him.
I guess I had hoped she would tell me first. Then again, if she had any intentions of telling me, she would have when she found out she was pregnant. And judging by the way Ashlyn never said anything, I'm guessing she doesn't know either.
“Ugh,” I groan into the darkness.
Rolling over, I grab my phone off the nightstand and scroll to the one person I've always told everything.
“Hello?” Vance answers, thankfully wide awake.
“Hey, man.”
“H,” he sighs. “What's wrong?”
I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. “Every time I think shit is going to calm down, I swear something else knocks me the fuck over.”
“Put him on speaker,” Rhys says in the background.
Of course they're together.
“What the hell happened now?” Vance asks.
The words feel foreign in my mind, and now that I'm about to say them out loud, it's a shock to my system. “I have a kid.”
“You what?” they say in unison.
Vance groans. “Please don't tell me you knocked up Lindsey.”
“No,” I answer rapidly. “God, no. Not Lindsey.” I pause for a minute, knowing the reaction I'm going to get for this. “It's Emery. We have a son together. He's almost four years old.”
“You fucked Emery?” Rhys squawks. “After you damn near decapitated me for even looking at her a certain way?”
Vance already knew. I had told him a few days after it happened. But Rhys has wanted in Emery's pants since she grew a set of tits and stopped looking like my little sister's sidekick.
“Focus, Rhys,” Vance tells him. “How do you know it's yours?”
I snort. “Well, for one, he could be my twin. I have no idea how she's kept it a secret this long, but it's fucking obvious. And two, she told me.”
She didn't exactly want to, but when I confronted her on it, there wasn't any room for her to deny it. And the second she started to tear up, I knew. Hollis is my son. I have a fucking son.