Secrets of a One Night Stand by Naima Simone
Fifteen
Achilles stared at the penthouse elevator doors, waiting for them to open. The security guard had called minutes ago, informing him that Mycah had arrived asking to be let upstairs. He’d been expecting her since the story about her and Cain’s supposed “love child” had leaked three hours earlier.
His brothers had taken the news about Mycah actually being pregnant and Achilles being the father better than he’d expected. And they’d even been happy for him. Hugged him. But they were still confused how Cain’s name had ended up involved in the story instead of his. That part—his suspicions—he hadn’t revealed and couldn’t without talking to Mycah first. But he had promised to try to clear up the mess. And that meant convincing Mycah that they could no longer maintain this secret about the baby. Not if it meant that others would be hurt by it.
You’ll find out if she’s ashamed of you.
He briefly closed his eyes as the ding announcing the arrival of the elevator rang in the apartment.
He’d finally know if he’d been only a dirty secret for the woman he’d fallen in love with after all.
If he’d repeated a history he’d promised himself never to revisit.
If he’d given a woman his heart again only to be told it wasn’t enough. That he wasn’t enough.
Yes, he would have his answer.
The doors slid open, and Mycah rushed out of the elevator, and though he braced himself for what the next few minutes would bring between them, he soaked her in. The sensual explosion of curls that graced her shoulders and framed her beautiful face. The long, cream wool coat that opened over a dark purple sheath dress. The color reminded him of the one she’d worn the night they first met. And he tried not to let that strike him as an omen. Because he couldn’t determine if it would be good or bad.
“Achilles.” Breathless, her lovely mouth twisted down at the corners, her espresso eyes dark with worry, she crossed the floor to him. She slid her hands over his waist, clutching his hips and tipping her head back to gaze into his face. “I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
She frowned. At the question or his even tone, he couldn’t tell, but her grip tightened on him. “Don’t pretend we both don’t know who’s behind that story being leaked to the media,” she said, voice grim. “Who else could it be but my parents? I don’t know how they found out about the pregnancy, but it’s them. Since I started at Farrell, they’ve been on me to cozy up to Cain. Maybe this is their twisted way of doing it, of forcing us together.”
“If that’s true, then you shouldn’t be apologizing for them. These are their actions, and they need to own them. Not you.” When would she get tired of doing it? Anger sparked inside him, but he tamped it down. That wasn’t his battle to fight; he’d gladly wage it for her if he could, but he couldn’t. “But their actions have put us in a difficult position. And now we have choices to make.”
She stepped back, her arms dropping down by her sides, and he almost reached for her, demanding she put her hands back on him. Let him absorb her warmth. Let him touch her when he dropped this bomb on her. Because physical connection seemed to be all they had—at least for her.
“What do you mean?” Her gaze searched his face. “What else happened?”
“I was with Cain and Kenan when the story broke. I had to tell them about us and the pregnancy.”
She exhaled, the gust of breath long and soft. Crossing an arm protectively over her stomach and palming her forehead with the other hand, she paced away from him, crossing the living room to the window. He followed at a slower gait, allowing her space and time.
“Okay,” she said after a couple of minutes. “I pretty much expected it had to happen. Especially since Cain and Devon are directly affected by all of this. I’m just so sorry they were dragged into this mess.”
“Mess?”
She pivoted, frustration suffusing her expression and voice. Waving a hand, she shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. And you’re right—this is a mess of our making. Because we’ve failed to be honest. With our families. Our coworkers. Each other. Ourselves.”
“What are you saying, Achilles?” she whispered, the barest hint of panic in her tone. A flash in her eyes.
“I’m saying we can only build a future on truth. No more hiding, no more secrets. Because they have a way of crumbling and leaving people broken.”
“Time.” She splayed her fingers wide over her belly, and this time there was no mistaking the alarm in her voice. It darkened her eyes to near black. “You promised me time to reveal this how I needed to...”
“That was before a hatchet job about my brother fathering my child hit the fan,” he growled, anger surging inside him, hot and possessive. The thought that people believed his baby belonged to Cain. That his brother had touched Mycah, put his mouth on her, seen what she looked like lost in pleasure... Dammit. He scrubbed a hand down his face, his beard abrading his palm. “Mycah, you can’t hide your pregnancy any longer. It’s impossible. And we have to address the misconception of Cain being the father. For him and Devon as well as for the reputation of the company.”
“I know, I’ve thought about this,” she said in a rush, the words piling up on each other. “I’ll make a statement confirming the pregnancy and debunk the lie that Cain is the father.”
“And when they ask who the father of the baby is? Because they will ask, Mycah.” His body stilled, everything in him waiting for her answer.
“I’ll tell them that information is between me and the father and we wish our privacy to be respected.”
Pain, anger, sorrow, regret—they crowded into his chest, squatters claiming room and shoving against his rib cage for more space. They filled him, the pressure so great, he breathed the emotions, tasted them, became them.
“You do know not giving them a definitive answer will only flame the fire, not put it out, right?” he asked, surprised at how calm he sounded when a storm raged inside.
She shook her head, curls grazing her shoulders. “Not if we handle it correctly—”
“Are you that ashamed to admit that I’m the father of your baby?”
Her chin jerked back as if his accusation had delivered a verbal blow. Shock widened her eyes, parted her lips, and she blinked at him as if slow to comprehend his question.
“Achilles,” she finally whispered, lifting an arm toward him and shifting forward. “That’s not true. I could never—”
“Be embarrassed by me?” He arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking. “Try again, Mycah. You forget, I’ve done this before. I’m familiar with the script. Intimately.”
“I’m not her,” she said, her fingers curling into her palm. “I’m not her.”
“I know that. I’ve known that for a while. Doesn’t mean history isn’t repeating itself.”
Accept me. Accept us.
“You’re not being fair,” she accused, and he hardened his heart at the desperation there. “The reasons I explained to you still stand. They’re still valid. Even more so now that this story leaked the way it did. Which, I suspect, was part of my parents’ reason for doing it. I’m unsure about my position with Farrell. Can Cain afford to keep me on with rumors of his supposed mistress working for him? And what about my professional reputation? Now more than ever I need to control the narrative and not allow them to steal that from me. To destroy years of hard work, to ruin how my coworkers and peers look at me. And while I haven’t slept with Cain, if it comes out that I did sleep with the other CEO of the company, it would undo everything. I don’t get a second chance at this. All I’m asking for is time, Achilles. You can’t just flip the script because it’s convenient.”
“Convenient?” He stepped closer to her, then stopped. Getting nearer to her so he could inhale her scent, touch her—that was a mistake. Then...fuck it. He eliminated the distance between them, not stopping until his chest pressed to hers, his thighs bracketed hers. She tipped her head back, meeting his gaze. He ached to brush his fingertips over her elegant brows, those sharp cheekbones, that trembling, sensual mouth. But even he had his limits. “You’re not the only one out on that limb, Mycah. I’m right there beside you. Fuck, I want to be there with you. Just like you told me to do with my brothers—let them in. Now I’m asking you. Let me in. Let me, baby. This—” he gave in, stroked a hand down her hair “—there’s nothing convenient about this.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked softly, her eyes dark with shadows, heavy with sorrow. “And what happens when you decide that I’m not enough anymore? That I’ve disappointed you? What then? What will I have left? My baby and my career. You’re leaving Boston, or have you forgotten that, too? I’ll co-parent long-distance, and my career, it’s the only thing I have complete control over. I sacrificed it before, for a man. And I nearly lost everything I worked so hard for. Nearly lost all trust in myself and who I was in the process. I’m not willing to do that again.”
Achilles dropped his arm. Took a step back. Damn near stumbled as pain and grief punched a hole in his chest, his heart. For him, for her.
For whom they could’ve been.
“You have so little faith in me—in yourself.”
A sense of futility swamped him, and instinctively he battled it, almost reaching for her, needing to hold her, make her see that if she’d just fight for him...
Love him.
He briefly closed his eyes and pressed his fist to his chest, rubbing the ache there. Her gaze dropped to the movement, and he stopped, walking past her to take her former place at the window, blindly staring out at the view that so many people would—and did—pay millions for.
And him? He’d give it all away to wake every day to her.
“It amazes me that you don’t see in yourself what I do. What everyone else does. You’ve been at Farrell for a matter of weeks, and already you have the respect of those who work under you and who are over you. I’m not minimizing your concerns, but I am saying that you’re not taking into account how fiercely people will go to bat for you because of their respect for your work ethic, your record and your character. And you as a person. You don’t just change procedures and cultures in a company, Mycah, you change people. You changed me.”
He turned, faced her. As the glutton for punishment he’d called himself before, he needed to look into her eyes for this.
“I arrived in Boston alone, closed off, mistrustful, bitter, angry and looking for the exit back to Washington. I’m still not what anyone would call a people person, but I have family now—brothers. And not just in name only. Brothers who I trust, who trust me, who I want to become closer to. Not only do they accept me but they want to support me. Like my game. Cain wants to fund it, distribute it.”
“God, Achilles, that’s wonderful,” she breathed, delight for him briefly dispelling the shadows in her eyes. “I’m so happy for you.”
“You gave that to me. Because you encouraged me to trust him and Kenan. I’m letting go of the past, of the hurts, the anger. And today, I told Cain I would stay in Boston.” As shock flashed across her face and her fingers fluttered to the base of her throat, a faint smile curved his mouth. But without humor. “I might have said I would today, but truthfully? I’d made the decision when you told me you were pregnant. I couldn’t be a part-time father. And by then, the thought of leaving had me sick inside. Because it meant leaving you. It meant leaving the woman I was falling in love with.”
“Achilles,” she whispered.
He shook his head, cutting her off. “This isn’t for you, baby,” he said. “It’s for me. I love you. And yes, maybe I’m not being fair to lay this on you, either. But I’m not asking you to do anything with it since at this point, you don’t believe you can—or you don’t want to. I settled for a half relationship in secrecy once. I won’t do it again. I want more. I want it all. Because I’m willing to offer you everything I have and am in return—a husband, a friend, a protector, a lover, a father to our baby. I deserve more than scraps of you.”
He glanced away from her, from the stricken expression that damn near brought him to his knees.
“Achilles, you don’t understand. Just give me—” She stretched a hand toward him, but when he stared at it, she slowly lowered her arm.
This was a matter of survival. And if she put that hand on him, he might not have the strength to do them both the favor of ending this before they hurt each other beyond repair. They still had to be parents to their baby.
“And then what, Mycah? Another month? Another excuse? I can’t.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Please let me know when your next doctor’s appointment is. We’ll probably have to be more careful given the publicity with the story, but I won’t be shut out. I still need to be part of the pregnancy.”
She wound her arms around her torso, and after a moment, nodded. And after another longer moment, she turned and walked across the apartment, stepped into the elevator and left him.
How long he stood there, staring out the window, he didn’t know. But when he did stir, the pain, the sorrow crushing his sternum, hadn’t eased. Only this time, he didn’t have to face it alone.
Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed his brothers.
