Knocking Up His Best Friend

by Kat Baxter

  I was thankful for the interruption. I didn’t particularly want to rehash my fertility woes. It wouldn’t take much for me to break down.

  Jilly appeared in the kitchen. “You’re going out with us girls tonight. Drinks and nachos.” She pointed at me with a glare. “No excuses.”

  I nodded because I knew fighting with her about this would be futile.

  Several hours later I sat in a crowded booth with Jilly and her two closest friends, Calliope and Sadie.

  “Okay, what are we drinking to?” Calliope asked.

  “Our girl here had a shit day,” Jilly said. “So we’re commiserating.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Sadie asked.

  I glanced at the table of women. They weren’t really my friends, they were Jillian’s tribe, but they’d adopted me easily enough. I took a hearty sip of my Jack and Coke because why the hell not, it’s not like I was pregnant.

  Jilly and her friends were about as different as women can be and they’d welcomed me into their little ragtag group. Calliope was a children’s book illustrator. She was so boho chic—I loved the way she dressed. The style fit her riot of golden curls and petite figure perfectly.

  Sadie, on the other hand, was a genius. Like a certified genius and worked in some lab as an oceanic botanist or something like that. She was kind to a fault and oblivious to fashion or pretty much anything about her appearance, which explained why she was always pushing her oversized glasses up on her nose. Then there was Jilly—curvy and sassy like a 1950s pinup girl and dressed just as retro. Most of her clothes she made herself with items she snagged from thrift shops because she was a wizard with a needle and thread. She was, hands down, the best friend I’d ever had with breasts.

  I was the odd man out having joined their little group only recently. My penchant for pop-culture T-shirts, baggy jeans and Chucks and my boring brown hair tamed into braids gave me my own style, but it was neither glamourous nor particularly flattering. I’d never been comfortable in fashionable clothes. The fabrics were never right and I inevitably ruined them anyway. I spent so much of my time in a hot kitchen baking that it didn’t seem worth the effort to try anything else.

  “I’ve been trying to get pregnant and it’s not working,” I blurted out.

  Sadie’s mouth rounded and a squeak came out.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Calliope said.

  I shook my head. “I’m not. I’ve been working with a fertility doctor. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in years so I decided to have a go at it alone. I’ve done two cycles, but they both failed. So all I can show for all that work is an empty savings account and a few extra pounds I gained thanks to the all hormones.”

  “Damn, sweetie, I’m sorry,” Calliope said, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand.

  Jilly wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “I’ve tried to tell her there isn’t a rush, she’s still young and has time to meet someone, the perfect someone.”

  “You don’t even believe in that,” Sadie argued. “Perfect someones.”

  “Correction, I don’t believe that for me,” Jilly pointed a short, black lacquered nail at her chest. “But for the rest of you, sure I do.”

  I wasn’t going to go into all the details behind my decision to try to get pregnant now and on my own. No one wanted to hear my sad ass story of how long it took my parents to have me and how they’d tried for years afterwards to give me a sibling and nothing worked. I wouldn’t drag down the night with my story of how my dad died suddenly of a heart attack my sophomore year of high school. And how that had kicked my mom into early-onset Alzheimer’s. Yes, technically I was still young—only twenty-eight—but my family genes weren’t on my side when it came to fertility. Or longevity. Suffice it to say my biological clock ticked in my ear like a fucking bomb about to blow.

  Calliope leaned in. “I know this dating site.”

  “No!” Jilly yelled. “She’s a dating disaster.”

  “You just said she needs to meet someone,” Sadie said throwing her hands up in the air. “Make up your mind, Jillian.”

  “True. But what I really meant was she already knows her perfect someone and she just needs to get her head out of her ass.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not this again. For the last time, Jilly, Coop and I are only friends. We’ll never be more than that for so many reasons. Least of which is the fact that he’s a total commitment-phobe.”

  “Okay, wait let’s back up. Before we talk about the delicious piece of man your best friend is,” Calliope said, “I want to hear more about why you’re such a dating disaster.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sexy enough.”

  Calliope shook her head, pale gold ringlets swished in the movement. “That can’t be it. Men don’t need much more than a pair of tits to think a woman is sexy.”

  I knew better than that. I happened to have pretty great tits, though I hid them well in my clothes. Men just rarely hit on me. And those who did always ended up with a sexier woman. I took a sip of my drink. “Honestly, I don’t know. I have a tendency to scare men away.”

  “She bakes for them,” Jilly said.

  “Well, that doesn’t seem so wrong. Everyone enjoys baked goods,” Sadie said.

  “Thank you.” I smiled brightly at Sadie then took another hearty sip of my drink. The whiskey heated a trail down my throat and warmed my belly. Later, I’d have to thank Jilly for making me come out. I was so used to relying on Coop that I forgot I needed girlfriends too. I’d needed this tonight. Even if it did entail airing all my embarrassing laundry.

  “After the first date—” Jilly started.

  “If the date is good,” I added, holding up a finger.

  “Okay, after the good first date,” Jilly conceded with an eye roll, “she sends them baked goods.”

  “As a thank you,” I said.

  “It scares them off.”

  “Men are ridiculous.” I emptied my drink and before I could even consider another, the waitress had a fresh one in front of me. “Coop loves my cookies.”

  “Coop loves you,” Jilly said.

  Warmth filled my chest and my heart sped. Clearly, my drink was hitting faster than I’d anticipated. “Friends, Jilly, we’re just friends.” How many times did I have to assure people of that? It was almost a robotic response at this point.

  “Tell them about the last guy,” Jilly said.

  I blew out a breath. I’d had so many decent first dates in the last year, it was obnoxious. But never a second date. “Okay, so I went out with this guy named Jim who was an investment banker or something—I don’t know because I wasn’t paying close enough attention—we had dinner and it was nice. We had some things in common. He was attractive enough.”

  Jilly was already shaking her head. “No. He wasn’t attractive. He had way too many moles,” she interjected, then shuddered. “Too much like Matt Damon, but way less cute.”

  Sadie snorted, then fell into a coughing fit.

  “Anyways, he gave me a sweet kiss at the end of the night and said he wanted to see me again. So the next day I sent him cookies to his office to say thank you.”

  Calliope was hiding a grin behind her hand. “What did he say?”

  “He said nothing. Not a thank you or anything. I mean, I sent him shortbread. Shortbread are the carnations of the cookie world, totally innocuous.”

  “Baked goods freak men out,” Jilly said.

  “Why?” Sadie asked.

  “They represent family and home so it makes them think she’s ordering wedding invitations and subscribing to Modern Bride,” Jilly said.

  “That’s so dumb,” I said. “I’d never pick a dress from that magazine.” I grinned at my friends and before I knew it that drink was emptied too, followed by another until I was pretty much feeling no pain.

  Chapter 2

  It was well past midnight when my phone rang. Unusual.

  I leaned over to see, expecting it to be some woman I br
iefly knew drunk dialing me. Instead, my heart hammered when I saw Ally’s name.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Hey, Cooper, it’s Jilly.”

  My stomach recoiled. “What’s happened to her?”

  She chuckled which did little to ease my nerves. “She’s fine. You just need to come get your girl. She’s drunk and I don’t think she should be alone tonight in case she gets sick. I’m pet sitting or I’d take care of her myself.”

  “No, it’s no problem. Where are you?” I was already on my feet and pulling on some sweatpants. She gave me the name of the bar and I slipped on some flip-flops, grabbed my keys then jumped into my Tesla. “And she’s drunk?”

  Jilly sighed. “Yeah, the no pregnancy thing. She went at the drinks pretty hard tonight.”

  “Damn. I’ll be there in a few.”

  Fifteen minutes later I pulled into the gravel parking lot and found Jilly standing with a couple of other girls basically holding Ally up. The neon beer signs in the left window flickered. I barely managed to put the car in park before getting out.

  “I’m not even going to complain about you forgetting to put on a shirt,” Jilly said.

  I looked down and saw I had, in fact, forgotten to put on a shirt. “I was already in bed. You’re lucky I put on pants.”

  “That’s debatable,” the curly haired woman said with a wink.

  I met Ally’s gaze, or at least I tried to. Her eyes were pretty unfocused, but she eventually registered my presence because she gave me a toothy grin. God, she was cute. Her head tilted and one braid slid down and the end curled around her breast.

  “Coop! What are you doing here?” she asked, her words slurring together.

  “I’m bringing you home, Allycat.” I swung her up in my arms, then set her into the passenger seat. Even with the heavy scent of whiskey on her breath, she still smelled damn delicious. Sugar and spice and everything nice...that was my Ally. I jogged around to the driver’s side, then stopped and met Jillian’s gaze. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

  “Anytime. And I’ve got the bakery in the morning. Let her sleep this off.”

  I nodded, then got in and started the car.

  “I’m not even supposed to be drunk!” Ally blurted out once we’d gotten on the road.

  I chuckled. “Well, yeah. We’re twenty-eight now. We’re supposed to be past all of that. But it’s okay every now and then.”

  “No. That’s not why. I’m supposed to not be able to drink because I’m pregnant. But am I pregnant? No!”

  “Ah. I’m sorry, Allycat.” I reached over and linked my hand in hers, squeezing her hand. “You know I could help you.”

  She turned in her seat and pointed at me. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about the fertility treatments. You can’t fix everything for me.”

  Maybe not, but I always wanted to give it a try. I was a fixer by nature, it’s why I was an engineer. I took things apart and figured out the best way to put them back together. Ally, though, was fiercely independent and never asked for anything. It was a constant source of frustration for me.

  “Throwing money at the problem won’t solve it. You can’t buy me a baby.”

  “I wasn’t offering to buy you a baby. Let’s not get crazy here. But I could help pay for the treatments.” I had more money than I knew what to do with.

  “No! No money.”

  I sighed. My family’s money had always made Ally uncomfortable. Most of the time it didn’t matter because I’d made my own and hadn’t touched family money since college.

  Ally was quiet on the way back to my place. I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her alone in her shitty apartment above her bakery, not on the off chance she got sick and hurt herself.

  “Come on, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get you to bed.” I cradled her against me and carried her into my bedroom. My office had a bed too, but it was small and uncomfortable and didn’t have a connected bathroom. I set her onto the bed, and she flopped down backwards. So I went to the kitchen to get her a big glass of water and a couple of painkillers.

  When I got back to my room, though, she was standing by the bed in only her underwear and bra. I froze and drank in the sight because best friend or not she looked hot. I’d always found Ally attractive. Hell, I’d been in love with her for half of my life. I didn’t need to know she wore sexy underwear.

  Fuck me.

  She wobbled a bit on her feet as she tried to unbraid her hair. I couldn’t take my eyes off how she looked in that lime green lacy push-up bra and matching boy shorts. Her ass looked phenomenal and her tits...

  Fuck.

  It’d been years since I’d seen her in a bathing suit, despite us living near the beach. Evidently, she’d been hiding a banging body under her baggy clothes. She was all softness and curves. And now I was sporting a semi.

  “Ally, you need to take these and drink this entire glass of water.” I walked towards her. I can do this. She’s drunk. She’s my best friend, and it’s my job to take care of her. Not take advantage of her.

  She gave me a mock salute, then proceeded to lick the pills out of my palm. Seriously, what did I do to deserve such torture?

  Then she downed the water, some of it dribbling down her chin onto her chest and down into that lime green lace.

  Excellent. Now I was fully hard. I had no doubt my sweatpants were leaving nothing to the imagination. Thankfully, Ally didn’t look down.

  I sat on the edge of the bed anyways to try and hide my erection.

  “Do you want to talk about why you got so drunk tonight?” I asked.

  “Nope.” She sat next to me. She leaned her head on my shoulder for a few breaths, then crawled into my lap. Straddling me. So now her warm panty-covered pussy was pressed against my aching cock. Seriously, what had I done to deserve such temptation?

  “What are you doing Ally?”

  “Shhhh.” She put a finger to my mouth, then leaned closer, her full breasts pressed against my bare chest. Then she kissed me.

  Her tongue slid across my lips and I opened for her. Then our tongues were rubbing against each other and it was damned perfect. Even sloppy drunk Ally kissed like a dream. She tasted like whiskey and sin and I devoured her. I’d wanted her for so long, I didn’t remember my life without that piercing desire and aching need. I’d shoved my love for her so far down that most of the time I could ignore it and just be her friend.

  Right now, though, with her grinding against my hard dick I was lost at sea. I groaned into her mouth slid my hands up her back. Her skin was so soft, her curves lush.

  I couldn’t fuck her though. For so many reasons. None of them sounded any good to my dick though. He was all for sliding into her hot, wet pussy. Right here. Right now.

  She was still kissing me and grinding against me. And sonofabitch she was going to make me come in my fucking pants like a horny teenager. But I couldn’t bring myself to push her away because she felt so right. Hope was spreading through my chest like proverbial wildfire and I couldn’t help thinking finally she sees me, finally she wants me too. I wanted to touch her everywhere. I craved the weight of her tits in my hands. I knew it’d only take one flick to unhook her bra and then I could have her nipples in my mouth. But that would mean stopping the kissing.

  The best fucking kissing of my life. Her hands were all over my neck and chest. Her grinding intensified and she moaned, essentially riding my hard dick through our clothes. Fuck, I wasn’t going to make it.

  Then her own orgasm hit and she shuddered against me, tossing her head back and crying out. It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. Then I came in my pants.

  I was breathing hard when she climbed off my lap and snuggled into the bed as if nothing had even happened. I looked down at the wet spot marking my sweatpants. Damn, I hadn’t done that since high school. I stood, tucked her into my sheets, then made my way to my shower.

  What the fuck had just happened?

  The following morning she app
eared in my kitchen, bleary-eyed, but dressed. I stood there doing my best to look casual, but inside my nerves were shot. Had last night changed things between us? Could I kiss her good morning?

  “Morning, sunshine,” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter, opting to let her set the pace.

  She made a beeline to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup then took a gulp before meeting my gaze. She wasn’t looking at me any differently than she ever did.

  “I’m sorry about what happened last night,” she said, her voice tight with sleep.

  My heart clenched and my stomach twisted. Dammit. “Yeah, did you want to talk about it?”

  She eyed me a minute, then her expression grew horrified. “Oh God, did I throw up in your car?”

  I watched her carefully as my hope was swallowed by guilt. “No.”

  She was quiet for several minutes.

  “You don’t remember anything else that happened?”

  “No.” Her head shook. She winced and grabbed at her temple. “Other than having a hellacious headache and waking up in my underwear. Shit, did I flash you?”

  I forced a laugh. “Not exactly.” My last spark of hope flickered out like she’d blown out a candle. Nothing had changed between us as far as she was concerned. If she didn’t remember, I wasn’t going to remind her. It would only embarrass her. Instead, it would just have to stay locked in my spank bank for all eternity.

  “I drank so much last night. I don’t think I’ve ever had that much to drink.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Then let’s talk about why you’ve been doing fertility treatments and not telling me.”

  Chapter 3

  “I cannot even tell you how much I love you,” I said as I stepped into my bakery.

  The tiny bell above me jingled sweetly as the door slid closed. The air filled with the scent of sugar and butter and cinnamon, and all of life’s good things. Thank God I had someone I trusted to take care of things when I acted like an idiot.