Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 78 – Late Night Chats

Two hours later, I pour Victor his fifth glass of whiskey.

“This has gotta be the last one, Evelyn,” he says, his words only slightly slurred. But his face is happy, a little pink from laughter and drink.

“Penultimate, at best,” I say, winking at him and making sure it’s an extra-generous pour.

“Enough!” he says, laughing and pulling his drink away so that just a little whiskey spills on the floor. “You’re trying to get me drunk, woman.”

“That is the name of the game,” I say, wrinkling my nose at him.

We’re still settled on the couch, long ago having carried the whiskey decanter, an extra bottle of wine, and some snacks over to the coffee table so that we don’t have to get up for refills. I’m wrapped in my favorite white knit blanket, curled up amongst the pillows, but Victor clearly feels no such need for warmth.

He’s seated casually, close to me, his one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other holding his whiskey glass steady on his knee. His long body lounges, one of his legs stretched on the floor, the other tucked up beneath him. He’s smiling at me and I smile back, pleased to see him having some fun.

“When’s the last time you did something like this,” I say, taking another sip of wine.

“Like what?” he asks.

I shrug. “Like stayed up late, drinking, talking. Holding court in your own little secret pocket of the world, where nobody knows you’re here, where you can say anything you want and know that you’ll be heard.”

Victor shrugs and looks down at his glass. “I can’t remember,” he says, but I sense that he’s lying. “What about you?” he asks, meeting my gaze again.

“Me and Delia used to do it sometimes,” I say, smiling at the memory. “In graduate school, when the boys were really little. They’d go to bed and we’d share a bottle and talk about all the things we wanted to do with our lives. It was nice.”

I give him a little kick. “So tell me,” I say. “I know you were lying before when you said you don’t remember.”

ago. The last time I was tucked away from the world, talking quietly with someone all

I suppose I remember…other things, from that evening. But it’s true, we did stay up talking, laughing, until the sun came

to the current moment and hurry to think of something to say. “So,” I begin awkwardly. “You and Amelia, you guys never…” I gesture around at the pleasant scene, encompassing

so it almost feels like…there’s not much to be said.” He shrugs and taps a finger on his glass.

wanting the night to turn to further awkward subjects, I rush to lighten the mood. “Well, I’m pleased to be the one to usher you back into the tradition of the late-night drunk chat.” I say, laughing a little. “And actually, I don’t think that night six years ago counts anyway. We

me dead in the face and raises an eyebrow. “As I recall it, we didn’t

other day and I would have blushed at the memory, but tonight the wine has loosened my inhibitions, as well as my tongue. I laugh at him, blatantly. “We did too talk!” I say, kicking

low. “I remember lots

stares at his drink,

But I break it.

you remember?” I ask, my voice low,

he takes a long swallow of whiskey. “I remember the way my mouth went dry, seeing you cross the room in that ridiculous scrap of

up against my mouth, enjoying the cool feeling of it against my lips. “Must have been thirsty. I remember you trying to get away from me, after we

want water. I only wanted you.” He fastens my eyes

in, I breathe in, so that we are almost as one, existing together. It’s unbearable, in

my face away. I close my eyes, debating, and then down my glass of wine. Then, I declining to pay attention to the logical thoughts pounding in my head – he’s a mated man! He’s engaged! His wedding is in TWO WEEKS, EVELYN – turn my face back to him and look up at him from beneath my lashes. I don’t

my body, hungry. I let the blankets fall from my shoulders, , closing my eyes and slipping my body

– something primal, true, real – something that makes me want – need – to be close to him in this moment. “I wanted you too,” I whisper, placing my head on his shoulder, my face resting against his

I can feel his tension and put a hand on his

whisper, my eyes closed. “We…can’t. We can’t. But we can have this moment. Please, don’t say

arm from the top of the couch to rest lightly on my back. He relaxes and I feel him lean forward to breathe

sigh, finally letting the memories of the past two days come back to me, finally feeling safe enough to face them. “Why

Evie,” he says, slowly beginning to stroke my