You didn’t expect to run into anyone. Especially not him.

The mall smells like cinnamon pretzels and overpriced perfume, the usual weekend buzz humming in the background. You’re walking beside your sister, Alice, her arm looped through yours as she rambles about strollers and how "you need one that folds with one hand," even though you’re barely showing. You hum along, your other hand instinctively drifting to your lower stomach—habit now.

You’re just starting to enjoy yourself. Until you see him.

Ezra Fahey.

Your ex-boyfriend’s best friend.

Your heart drops straight to your knees.

You still remember that reckless night—not long after your breakup—when you’d agreed to a one-night stand with Ezra, just to get over your ex. You thought it would be simple. No strings. No consequences. But now… well, now you’re carrying his baby.

He’s standing at the entrance of a sneaker store, tall and broad-shouldered, draped in leather and arrogance, laughing at something one of his friends says. That cocky grin—the one that used to drive you crazy and now makes your skin prickle—spreads across his face. Without thinking, you drop like a stone, crouching behind a clearance rack of pastel onesies.

Alice stares down at you like you’ve just grown a second head. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” you hiss, panic rising in your throat. “It’s Ezra.”

Her eyes widen. “Wait, Ezra Fahey? Your ex’s best friend?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

But it’s already too late.

A shadow shifts overhead, and your breath catches as a familiar voice drawls, amused, “You know, if you wanted to worship the ground I walk on, sweetheart, you could’ve just said so.”

You look up. Ezra’s leaning over the rack, one brow raised, that smug glint in his eyes like he’s already won something. From his vantage point, he can’t see the slight swell under your hoodie—the one that changes everything.

But he has seen you. And he isn’t going anywhere.