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.”

probably that night with you, six years ago. The last time I was tucked away from the world, talking quietly with

I remember…other things, from that evening. But it’s true,

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

almost feels like…there’s not much to be said.” He shrugs and taps a finger on his glass. “At least, it used to feel

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 weren’t

in the face and raises an eyebrow. “As I recall

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 him again. “We talked about all sorts of things, in between…” here I do blush, a little bit, but I refuse to let shame take over. It’s a happy

low. “I remember lots of things about that

in the darkness, as he stares at his drink, in this secret moment where it feels like it’s just the two of us alone in the world.

But I break it.

do you remember?” I ask,

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 silk you were pretending was a

against my mouth, enjoying the cool feeling of it against my lips. “Must have been

didn’t want water. I only wanted you.” He fastens my eyes with his own as he says it, not blinking, not

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

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

in Victor’s cheek flickers as he clenches his jaw, looking down at my face, his glance slipping lower, moving across my body, hungry. I let the blankets fall from my shoulders, , closing my eyes and slipping my body closer to him on the couch, draping my legs over his own, my shoulders now well within the

don’t know what’s taken over me at this point – something primal, true, real – something that makes me want – need – to be close to him in this

his tension and put a

Victor,” I whisper, my eyes closed. “We…can’t. We can’t. But we can have this moment. Please, don’t say anything. Don’t make me get up, just for

rest lightly on my back. He relaxes and I feel him lean forward to

me, finally feeling safe enough to face them. “Why was I

know, Evie,” he says, slowly beginning