Page 36 of Shared by my Ex’s Best Friends (Twisted Desires #2)

Chapter thirty-six

MAYA

I ’ve paced the same path across my living room so many times, I’m sure I’ve worn a groove into the hardwood. The boards beneath my feet creak like they’re tired of hearing my steps, of holding the weight of my spiraling thoughts.

My hand keeps drifting to my stomach. Like somehow, pressing my palm there will stop the swirling in my head.

Of course, it doesn’t.

It just reminds me this is real. This is happening.

I’m pregnant.

The test still sits in my velvet pouch, proof I didn’t hallucinate the two pink lines that changed everything.

I didn’t throw it away. I couldn’t. Every time I look at it, it dares me to say the words out loud. To make it real.

I don’t know how to say it.

I almost let it slip to Ethan. He was just here. God, he looked at me like he knew something was off. I shut the door on him like a coward.

His hand lingered on the doorframe for a second before he stepped away, and it made my stomach twist. He’s probably wondering what the hell happened. I hate that I let him walk away without telling him.

My phone buzzes again on the couch—tenth time, maybe more. I don’t check it. I can’t handle their names lighting up my screen right now.

Ethan. Jake. Liam. Over and over, like a song on repeat that I don’t know the lyrics to anymore.

I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to talk. I want to go back to yesterday, when things were complicated, but in a manageable way.

There’s a sudden knock on my front door.

I freeze mid-step. The sound punches the breath out of my lungs.

I reach for the knob with a hand that trembles, my heart hammering so hard I think they might hear it through the wood.

I almost don’t want to open it, not because I don’t want to see them, but because once I do—once I tell them—I can’t take it back.

The door creaks open, and there they are.

Ethan stands in front, his brow furrowed in quiet concern, his hands at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for me. Liam is just behind him, tall and still, his mouth a tight line.

Jake has his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to take up less space even though everything about him is loud.

My throat constricts. Just like that, I’m out of air again.

“Hey,” I manage, my voice so small it almost gets lost in the wind rushing through the open doorway.

Ethan steps forward, voice soft, careful. “Can we come in?”

I nod and move back wordlessly. They file in slowly, the silence dragging behind them like a storm cloud, heavy with expectation.

The door clicks shut, and it feels final. Like a gate closing behind us, locking us into the moment.

I just stand there, staring at the backs of their heads as they move into the living room, which feels too small all of a sudden. The walls inch closer with every breath I take.

The sheer curtains let in the fading light, golden and stretched across the floor like spilled honey.

It lands in warm patches across the coffee table, highlighting the stack of unopened mail and an old mug with dried tea leaves clinging to the rim. Dust floats through the beams of sunlight, suspended, waiting.

Jake’s the first to speak, turning slowly toward me. “Maya, what’s going on?”

He stands near the fireplace, one hand braced against the mantle like he needs something to hold onto. His jaw is tight, his brows pulled together. There’s tension in his shoulders, but underneath it—worry. Real, raw worry.

Liam moves next, easing down onto the edge of the worn-out gray armchair. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me. His eyes follow every small motion I make like he’s trying to read between the lines of my silence.

“You don’t have to tell us if you’re not ready,” he says gently. “But we’re not leaving until we know you’re okay.”

My chest caves in. I can feel it. The way I’m cracking open. The way the truth claws its way up my throat even though I’ve tried to bury it under layers of doubt and fear.

I rub both hands over my face, trying to steady my voice, but it shakes anyway.

“I was going to tell you. I am going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

They wait.

No pushing. No impatience. Just three men who’ve seen me at my worst and are still here, waiting to hold whatever pieces fall.

I sink down onto the edge of the couch. The cushions sigh under me like they know the weight I carry. My legs bounce nervously as I stare down at my hands. They’re trembling.

I tuck them under my thighs like I can hide the evidence of my unraveling.

“I took a test this afternoon,” I say, voice barely above a whisper. “A pregnancy test.”

The shift is immediate.

Three sets of eyes lock onto me. The air pulls taut like a stretched wire.

Jake’s jaw drops open slightly. He pushes off the mantle, his casual stance gone. His entire body stiffens.

Liam doesn’t move, but his lips part like he’s going to say something—then he stops himself. His brows knit together deeper, and his jaw flexes once.

And Ethan…

He exhales. A long, deep breath as his eyes search mine, gentle and full of something I can’t name. Not yet.

“It was positive,” I say. “I’m pregnant.”

The words don’t echo. They don’t even fall. They land. Heavy. Solid. Permanent.

My whole body goes numb, but underneath it, I can feel something buzzing, frantic. Like I’m standing too close to a live wire.

“I—I don’t know how far along I am,” I continue, my voice tighter now. “I haven’t even made a doctor’s appointment yet. I was still trying to wrap my head around it.”

I force myself to look at them—at these three men who’ve been my friends, my anchors, my everything—and I feel the fear rise sharp in my chest.

“And I don’t know what this means for us,” I admit. “I don’t know how to make this work or what you’re all going to say or if this is the moment everything falls apart—”

“Maya.”

Ethan’s voice is barely above a breath, but it stops everything.

I look up. He’s stepped forward now, out of the shadows near the hallway and into the light.

He kneels in front of me, steady and close, his hands reaching gently to rest on my knees. His thumbs brush soft circles over the denim of my jeans.

“Breathe,” he says.

I try. It stutters in my chest, but I manage a shaky inhale. A broken exhale.

“You’re not alone,” he says. “Not in this. Not in anything.”

Jake steps forward next. His usual swagger is gone. He lowers himself onto the couch beside me, his shoulder pressing against mine.

“You think we’d walk away now?” he asks, eyes searching mine. “Come on, beautiful. That’s not how this ends.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a faint smile, and somehow, it makes my chest ache more than if he’d cried.

I let out a breath that’s part laugh, part sob.

Liam comes last, quiet and steady. He doesn’t need to sit. He just lays a warm hand on my shoulder.

“If anything, this just makes it more real,” he says.

The tears come before I can stop them. Hot and fast. They blur the lines of the room until all I can see are the outlines of the people I love most.

“Even if I don’t know what I’m doing?” I whisper.

Jake leans forward, resting his elbow on his knee. “None of us do,” he says. “We’re all winging it, Maya. But we’ll figure it out. Together. ”

The silence that follows isn’t heavy anymore. It’s full. Safe.

Ethan doesn’t move from his place in front of me. His hands are still warm on my knees. His voice is a thread of safety wrapped around my frayed edges.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he murmurs. “You just have to let us in. Let us help. ”

I look at each of them—Ethan, kneeling. Jake, solid beside me. Liam, unshakeable behind me.

For the first time since those two pink lines flipped my world upside down, I’m not overwhelmed with anxiety and fear.

I actually feel a little bit of hope.

This could work.

This will work… because I’m not alone.