Reckless Kisses

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Reckless Kisses Page 8

by Addison Moore


  Seth turns on the television, and I curl up on his couch with a knitted throw he has slung over the back. He called in a pizza on the walk over, and it arrived just as we were making our way to the door.

  “Here you go.” He hands me an oversized plate with four pieces on it and sets the box on the table in front of us.

  “Wow, I keep this up and I really will be the size of a house.” I take an indulging bite and moan my way through it. “Oh my God, I couldn’t care less how big I’m going to get. I need this pizza in me stat.” I take a few more devouring salty bites, and he laughs as he plunks down next to me with his own plate in hand. “So, did you win the game by a landslide?” I ask through a mouthful.

  “Thanks to your brother. I didn’t do so bad either.”

  “Taking the humble approach, huh? That’s a new one for you. I bet it doesn’t feel good,” I tease. “I bet you want nothing more than to tell me how you landed the winning shot, and all the cheerleaders hopped on the Seth Express and wrapped their legs around you.” A bite of jealousy rips through me as I hook my gaze to his. Seth Baker has a way of looking at you and making you feel as if you were the only girl alive. I’ve never understood that art myself. What’s the point? Is he really trying to bed every girl on the planet? Knowing Seth, the answer is a definite yes.

  “For your information, I did score the winning shot.” He gulps down the rest of his slice and puts down his plate, scooting in just a notch. “And there might have been a few girls interested in my moves.” He holds his forefinger and thumb at a small distance and winces.

  “Oh, you.” I do my best to inhale all four slices and succeed in record time before setting down my own plate. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m actually going to buy a can or twelve of anchovies next time I’m at the grocery store.”

  “Way to put the gross in grocery store.” He flips the remote through a few different channels, and we settle on a sci-fi movie we’ve both been dying to see, only for some reason it doesn’t have the power to hold my attention. My gaze keeps flitting back to Seth instead.

  “I told someone,” I whisper.

  “You did?” He leans in, his dark, thick brows arched heavy with concern, and it melts me just thinking that Seth actually cares so much. And then a far more realistic thought occurs to me. Seth cares for me because I’m like his sister. Of course, he’s going to be concerned. We’re family. We’ve practically been family for years. “So, who’d you tell?” His arm flexes over the sofa behind me, and I curl in until I’m sheltered under the protection of his wing.

  “Izzy.” I stop shy of revealing the entire truth. I’m not sure how he’d feel if Misty knew. But in a way, it feels as if admitting that I told Misty would be tantamount to telling the world, and I don’t want to pop this bubble Seth and I are living in at the moment. “She gave me the name of a doctor, and I’ll call as soon as possible to try to see him.” I glance down at my stomach, totally distended, no thanks to the salty Italian onslaught I sent forth. “I guess I owe it to Fred to give him or her a fair shot at life.”

  “Excuse me. Did you say Fred?” He ticks his head back. “We’re not calling it Fred. Not even in your belly for five minutes. We’ll scar that poor kid for life.”

  “We?” I giggle up at him and scoot in a touch closer, the scent of his cologne hypnotizing me. Seth has always been a little like a snake charmer, disarming me with his eyes. I guess that would make me the cobra, and that’s pretty laughable in and of itself. I’ve never been the snake in the grass type of a girl. But maybe if I were, Seth and I would have been a couple by now, and I wouldn’t have another guy’s baby tucked deep inside my body. “All right. What should we call it? And by the way, Fred is a great name.”

  “It might be, but Peanut, Bean, Anchovy—just about anything is better than Fred. It’s too serious. This kid is going to be fun. He or she is going to be great.”

  I bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep my emotions in check. I pretty much run hot and cold these days, no in-between, and right now the faucet is leaning toward the waterworks. “Anchovy, huh? It does have a tendency to make my mouth water. But it’s a little greasy fish.” I shake my head with disapproval.

  “Hmm.” His brows do that sexy hard V thing, and my face inches closer to his just to get a better look. “I think you’re onto something. How about Little Fish?”

  “Aw! Little Fish! I love it. Little Fish for the win.” I run my finger over the stubble on his face without thinking and pull back as if I just stuck a fork in a socket. “Sorry.”

  “No, that’s fine.” He picks up my hand and rubs the back against his cheek. “Sandpaper, right?”

  “Yeah.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Sandpaper.” I’ve been waiting, wanting to do just that for the better half of a decade, and it felt just as amazing as I thought it would. I’ve always been fascinated by the stubble that peppers his skin. Of course, I knew him when his face was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Speaking of which, I glance down and press my lips tight. “I don’t know what to do, Seth. I’m so confused. Why did my mom have to go and die? Why did the universe take her and leave someone as ridiculous as me on the planet who can’t even pull off a one-night stand without dire consequences?”

  “Hey—I’m here for you, and I mean it.” Seth secures his arm around my shoulders, and I lean my head over his chest, just gazing up at those cut cheeks, those lips that look soft enough to kiss. Damn biology. I’ve read all about the horny hormones that have been known to drive pregnant women pornographically wild right up until the bitter end. I’ve even read stories of women begging their husband for orgasms right there in the delivery room. There is no way on this planet I’m going to be begging for delivery room sex. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of.

  A brief yet highly detailed vision of Seth moving on top of me while straddling a gurney flits through my mind.

  Seth sucks in his bottom lip, and that tender spot between my thighs begins to quiver. Oh hell, maybe just a quickie. I gulp hard.

  “Are you keeping the baby?” A dry smile comes and goes, and suddenly Seth looks as if he’s got a stake in this child himself.

  “Yes.” I give a hard blink. “I mean, no. I mean, I’m not sure.” I shake my head, thoroughly confused, which is basically the new normal. “I’m going to have it. This child is coming into this world whether I like it or not, and honestly, I haven’t decided which.” My hand falls over my stomach the way it’s prone to do when I’m alone, and I blink up at Seth with the twinge of a shy smile. “I think I’ve decided which.” I give a little shrug. “I can’t help it, though. It’s a baby. It’s my baby. I haven’t even seen it or heard its heart beat, but I’m in love with it.” My voice breaks. “I’m so in love with it I can’t imagine giving it to strangers.” That last part comes out with tears. “And yet I’m too afraid to keep it. What if I accidentally do something wrong? I don’t even know how to hold a baby, let alone be in charge of one twenty-four seven.” My voice comes out whining and pathetic. It’s a wonder if he’s not plotting on giving me the boot. “I don’t want to give up my baby, Seth. But I don’t think there’s any other way.”

  A boiling anger fills his eyes, and his jaw hardens. It’s only then I see the tears glistening. Seth looks torn, as if he were dying to put in his two cents but is afraid to get his balls chopped off in the process. And he probably should be. I’ve been nothing but a wicked witch to him.

  “You won’t do anything wrong. And if you decide to keep it, I’ll do whatever you need to help make things easier for you.”

  “Seth.” I can’t even get his name out, the sentiment is so sweet. A hiccup bounces from me, and we both laugh. I can only imagine what a brute beast I must look like with my hair frizzed out from the icy walk over, my tear-slicked face, mascara to my chin—not to mention the guest seated between us. “That’s really nice, but I couldn’t ask you to put your life on hold just because I’m having a crisis. You didn’t do
anything wrong. I’m the one who rolled the dice, and now I have to pay the price. And you have no idea how much it pained me to say that. I’ve always had a strong dislike for both the euphemism and the people who wield it, and now I’m a wielder of sayings I hate. And, apparently, I’m a lover of people living in my belly. All I want to do is cry and eat pizza laden with greasy fish.” I hiccup as if putting an exclamation point on the sentiment.

  He crimps his lips. “You’re not going through this alone, Sunday. Trust me, my life took a turn right along with yours. What you go through, I go through. We’re in this together.”

  My heart thumps wild as I get lost in his gaze. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Hell yes.” He glances down, his hand carefully patting my sweater. “You mind?”

  “No, go right ahead. I figure everyone will want to touch it sooner or later. You should probably be the first. Devirginizing me from the event.” He winces, and I mouth the word sorry. Seth lays his hand over my belly and takes a deep, shuddering breath as if he were facing his greatest fear.

  “Hey, Little Fish.” His lips press tight as if he’s fighting hard not to lose it. “A baby.” His chest bucks with a silent laugh as he shakes his head. “This is going to be one wild adventure.”

  “It already is.” I lean up, and everything in me freezes as I find myself within striking range of those full lips that have had me shaking all night. “You’re a good friend, Seth.” And there it is, my self-sabotage working overtime to ensure the fact I don’t cross any lines with him. Not that Seth is looking to score with a pregnant chick. I’m pretty sure once I turned myself into a human incubator I wiped all thoughts of myself as a sexual being right off the table.

  “A good friend.” His Adam’s apple rises and falls as he nods into the idea. That stoned look in his eyes suggests he’s either not buying it or pissed. With my shitty luck, it’s probably both.

  Something rises up inside of me, a self-righteous indignation, that outright refuses to accept my luck as anything other than stellar—despite the fact I’ve branded myself a teenaged unwed mother, and that label will stick with me for life. But, at the moment, I’m feeling a bit pissed myself and ballsy—a dangerous combination if ever there was one.

  “Do you think we could”—I clear my throat—“you know, share a quick kiss?” Another hiccup tries to chirp out of me, but I do my best to stifle it. “Unless, of course, you think it would be weird. Or you’re repulsed by me.” That last thought seems entirely plausible, and come to think of it, I chose a lousy time to grow a pair of balls. This is going to be really awkward when he says no.

  A hard breath expels from him, something between a laugh and a huff of anger. His lids hood low, and a drugged look comes over his face that I’ve never seen before. Seth doesn’t bother answering the question with words. Instead, he leans in close, shuts his eyes at the very last moment as he brushes his lips over mine, soft, so outrageously soft it makes me want to scream, or pant like a love-struck fool—which I am totally doing. He pulls back and offers a lazy grin, his eyes still slitted to nothing. Then just like that, he’s on me again, his mouth far more commanding as his lips press hard over mine, and everything in me is greedy to have him. It’s safe to say my newfound superpowers have accidentally launched the two of us over that line in the sand that once delineated our friendship.

  I want so much more with Seth. I want everything with him.

  My mouth opens for him, and he’s in me swimming around with his hot tongue ever so carefully before turning on me with a marked aggression. A small groan works its way up his throat, and I drink it down, so delicious and sweet. A groan that sounded as if this very act was something that he too craved, that his body needed it the way mine did. My hand glides over his face, and I rub hard over the abrasiveness of his cheek, feel the tickle then the burn. Seth is burning me up from the inside, igniting a passion in me that I didn’t know existed. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted Seth Baker, and now I have him, right here in my arms, in my mouth, all of his attention pinned on me. I don’t want to be friends with Seth anymore. I want something for the two of us that’s so much more. I don’t care about my brothers’ needs, what they deem is or isn’t right for me. I’m a grown woman, and I think I should have a say in who I see, who I fall for. And I think that’s exactly what’s happened. Somewhere between finding him a menace and forming a close-knit friendship, I’ve done just that—fallen hard for Seth Baker. And I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with him, too.

  Heck, I know I am.

  I love Seth Baker.

  I love him so damn much it hurts.

  Seth

  Friday there’s no game, not in the Mustang Dome anyway. There is plenty of game everywhere else seeing that it’s that fated day filled with red and pink hearts that greeting card companies the world over pant for all year long—Valentine’s Day.

  WB doesn’t have classes, but there will be a party at every frat house and sorority all up and down The Row tonight. Not that I plan on attending. Nope. I’ll be participating in my new favorite ritual, hanging out with Sunday. Or at least I hope. She’s got her first official doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and I volunteered to go with her. I picked her up and drove us over to the medical building across from Hollow Brook General. I’m not too fond of blood and needles, but I’d brave an onslaught of both if it meant being there for Sunday and, apparently, it does.

  The doctor’s office is cold and sterile, and the metal chairs they have peppered throughout the gargantuan waiting room don’t exactly help with the comfort level. The entire room is filled with women, most of which share a distended abdomen in common. A few of them look so painfully huge that in comparison to the rest of them it looks downright fake, like someone literally shoved a giant pillow up their shirts. It seems wholly impossible that a human body can stretch in that manner. I’ve seen plenty of girls’ midsections, and to think they all have the possibility of accommodating another human being this way seems like nothing short of a miracle.

  Sunday grunts and groans next to me as she fills out the phone book’s worth of forms they’ve given her. She’s been feeling bad all morning. The only thing she’s eaten today has been a couple of crackers. I’m pretty sure that’s not considered eating for two. That’s hardly eating for one. She’s still pretty sick.

  It’s been one solid week, and neither one of us has brought up that kiss. Maybe that’s why. Maybe it made her sick.

  That kiss. A rush of adrenaline courses through me at the thought. I have kissed my fair share of girls—though not as many as Sunday likes to believe—but that mouthwatering lip maneuver we undertook for the better part of three hours was something I have never experienced. I have never been so thoroughly aroused. Never in my life have I even thought about the act of kissing as something that might be worth exploring further. It was always a means to what came next, and what came next was usually me.

  Sunday turns in the paperwork, and they call her name almost immediately.

  She jolts as those lemon-yellow eyes lock over mine. “Sunday Knight. That’s me.”

  “You passed the first test of the day.” I pat her hand. “You’ll ace the rest.”

  She makes a face. “The next test is a pregnancy test, and judging by the way Little Fish has me wanting to puke up things I haven’t even put in my mouth yet, I’m pretty sure I’ll ace the next one, too. Come on.” She gives my hand a tug, and my muscles freeze solid.

  “What do you mean come on? You want me to go back there with you?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes grow wide. “Izzy hinted at the fact he’s unbelievably attractive, and I might accidentally fall in love with him and want to commit lewd acts. And seeing that I’m prone to bouts of promiscuity, I think you, as my next of kin, should come in and protect that poor man against my hypersexual ways.”

  A dull groan comes from me, and we head on in together. “You do realize what end he’ll be looking at, don’t you?”

 
; “Please. We had basic anatomy together in high school. Consider this a much-delayed field trip where you find yourself up close and personal with female genitalia.” She bites down her lips, and a laugh bubbles from her. “Kidding. I’ll have you sit behind me. You won’t see a thing. Maybe a boob shot if you’re lucky.” She gives a little wink. “And you would be lucky. They’ve nearly doubled in size.” She takes me by the hand as we head to the back. “Do you think Little Fish is already putting in its order for a double vanilla shake? Because it sure feels like it.”

  I belt out a riotous laugh, and the nurse raises a brow. “That’s one lucky baby,” she chortles. “You two sure are in love. Keep it up. A kid these days needs two good parents on its side.” She has Sunday step on the scale.

  “This is the part where you look away.” Sunday gives me a light nod in the other direction.

 

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