Reckless Kisses

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Reckless Kisses Page 13

by Addison Moore


  She gives a silent nod. “Do you know?” She shakes her head as if it still wasn’t possible. “About the—” She glances down to her midsection.

  “Baby. Yes, I do. And again, please, for everyone’s safety, don’t breathe a word of it to Nolan. That’s Sunday’s job and nobody else’s.”

  “Oh, I agree. As much as I hate keeping this from my new husband, I rather like him breathing. So, do you know who the father is? She mentioned she didn’t know him that well. Oh my God, she wasn’t pulling my leg, right? It’s not you, is it?”

  My mouth opens and closes. Can I really lie to my sister’s face? The truth will come out eventually. “She doesn’t know who it is.” There. That’s the truth. “She thinks it’s some guy on the team.” And just as I’m mustering the strength to tell her it’s me, a shadow darkens the table, and we look up to find some dude in a wool coat who looks vaguely familiar. I’ve met Axel Collins a time or two, and I can tell right off the bat this is his brother.

  “Shep!” Misty jumps up. “I’m glad you could make it. This is my brother, Seth.” She makes crazy eyes at me as she pulls her purse over her shoulder. “I’ve got a class to teach in a half hour, so I’d better get back to campus.” She looks to me. “Shep is teaching at Briggs as well.”

  “I’m an adjunct professor.” He reaches over and shakes my hand. “Shepherd Collins, but you can call me Shep.”

  “I’ll see you two later.” Misty waves as she starts to take off. She points my way. “Good luck.” And for a moment, I can’t tell if she means with breaking the news that I’m dating Sunday to her brothers or the big payday I’m about to grovel for. Both most likely.

  “What do you teach at WB?” I ask as he takes a seat across from me. A waitress drops off a couple glasses of water before taking off like a racehorse.

  “It’s a transition course that bridges business admiration with real-world opportunities. I act as an overseer to the proctors. Class time is spent going over learning experiences and applying textbook material to the workplace. I like to refer to it as where the rubber meets the road. It’s a pilot program the school launched as a means to have students do mini internships throughout the semester. Plus, it gets me out of the office a few days a week. It’s win-win. So how about you? What’s taking up your airspace this semester?”

  I launch right in about basketball, about the few classes that actually hold my attention, the media club.

  “Sounds like you got a lot on your plate. You have time for schoolwork, basketball, and a club? Dude, you’re at Briggs. You can slow down with the extracurricular activities. You don’t have to impress some acquisition counselor. What about the girls? You keep that pace up and you’re liable to miss out on all the real extracurricular fun. I went to WB. I know all about the fun. Believe me.”

  “I’m good.” A goofy grin buoys to my face. “In fact, I’m real good.” I start in on how Sunday and I met all those years ago, how it morphed into a love-hate relationship, the hate primarily belonging to her. And then like some windup toy with no shut-off valve, I start in on what happened last December, how her brothers are going to snap my neck, how she thinks she slept with Eli Freaking Gates, how I don’t have a soul I feel safe enough to spill my guts to. “Sorry, dude.” I pinch my eyes shut. “I don’t know what the hell just happened.”

  “I think I tapped you, and you busted loose like a piñata.” He winces. “Man, that’s a lot. Are you okay? I mean, I can tell you’re tense. Look, I know we just met, but sometimes a stranger is the only person you can really trust in situations like these.” He gives me his card. “You shoot me a text, and I’ll meet you here anytime. Heck, I’ll meet you at the Black Bear. In fact, I’ll be doing some work with the owners, so I’ll be there a lot in the coming weeks and over the summer. They’re part of the program I’m working on.” He slouches in his seat, his features looking grave as he inspects me. “Shit. Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do for you.”

  “Don’t tell anyone. That’s a great start. And who knows? I might take you up on the Black Bear. God knows I feel like weights just lifted off me.” I shake my head as I look to the bar. “But I promise, I didn’t drag you all the way out here to make you feel sorry for me.” I offer a sheepish grin. “I dragged you all the way out here so you can feel sorry for my girlfriend.” I start in on Sunday’s other debacle—the financial pickle with the shelter.

  “Price match a hundred grand.” He leans back in his seat, and I can tell I’ve made him sick to his stomach. “I’ll be honest, if it were anyone else, it would be a hard and fast no. But I like your sister. Nolan and Misty are like family. Lex says she practically raised Rush and Sunday.” He shakes his head slowly. “Dude, you are in some deep, deep shit. I think you can use a lucky break or twelve. I’ll take this back to the board and see what we can do.” He stands to leave.

  “It’s a tax write-off. All funds go directly to the shelter.”

  Shep closes his eyes with a look that suggests he’s well aware. “Don’t worry about pitching me a spiel. I’ll put in an extra good word. I’ll see you around.” He gives a quick pat to my shoulder before taking off.

  At least that seemed to go well. What the heck was I thinking outlining all of the magnificent ways I’ve fucked up lately? My stomach wrenches at the thought. Little Fish comes to mind, and I can’t help but curve my lips the right way. That’s my kid. He or she is very much wanted, and I refuse to think of him or her as a mistake. Nothing I do with Sunday feels like a mistake. In fact, it feels as if it were always meant to be this way.

  It feels like destiny.

  Now if I can only convince her brothers of that.

  Something tells me I can’t.

  Baby Bump in the Road

  Sunday

  One more freaking thing to do…

  Vlog, but for God’s sake no giveaways. I swear, Satan keeps putting boxes in my path just to watch me vomit. And my God, is this ever going to get better???

  Call the student store and demand to speak with a manager. It’s not a lot to ask that there be a minute maternity section in the vastness of all that dead open space. Especially when coeds such as myself are moved to shop for a “friend.” And perhaps suggest they look into firing that sorority sister eyeing me with judgment as if I were the friend in question. A congenial staff is apparently an impossibility to come by these days.

  Work on building up a stash of those cupcakes I keep noshing on from the caf. The red velvet surprise are to die for. And I will kill if needed to fulfill my nightly cravings for one.

  Find Seth and take him up on that bodily massage he offered by way of his tongue.

  Burn to-do list.

  As much as I appreciate the fact Izzy has been syphoning me her wardrobe discards as she grows out of them, I can’t help but note they look so very—well—maternity-inspired. As slimming as they are, they still scream baby on board, so for the most part I’m only utilizing the cute jeans and jeggings she’s gifted me. The bright blue dress with the Peter Pan collar is a clear throwback to the eighties, and seeing that it still has a tag on it, it was out of bounds for even Izzy. Nope, not for me. I’ve relegated myself to wearing old baggy sweatshirts, most of them hand-delivered by my newly minted boyfriend himself. Just the way he’s doing now.

  “Thank you!” I pull him into my dorm and seal my mouth over his with a lingering kiss. This is all I really want to do on this lazy Friday evening. But duty calls and I’ve got regularly scheduled programming to tend to.

  Seth pulls back and examines me with sleepy eyes. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks, but half the janitorial staff has more fashion sense than me these days. My viewers are leaving me by the droves, and I pinpoint it directly on the fact my hair looks like an oil spill no matter how much I wash it, my face looks as if a flock of chickens pecked at it, I’m bloated, have bona fide luggage under my eyes, and I have to take a piss every thirty seconds while trying to enthusiastically talk about the latest greate
st freebies the cosmetics giants are freely sending my way. And soon, I’m guessing, that well will dry up, too.”

  Seth bounces a smile. “At least you haven’t lost your ability to see the bright side. Do you mind if I hang out?”

  I pull him over to my bed. “As if I was going to let you leave. Trixie headed out with Rush, so we have the place to ourselves. I just have to shoot a quick video. Feel free to take a nap or watch me in action.”

  “Take a nap?” he balks. “Honey, if you’re in the room, I’m sleeping with you.” He gives a quick wink while hopping on my bed and kicking off his shoes. “Do your thing. I’ll drool in the corner.” He folds a pillow under his chest and falls on his stomach as I ready myself on the floor. I swear, it takes me ten times longer to get up from any sitting position, let alone the carpet. Soon I’ll have to shoot it from my bed, which means I might actually have to make it, lest my viewers see how I really live and ditch me for far more tidier cosmetics pastures.

  I pull up my newest box of goodies—unopened because who likes to be surprised better than me? I flip on my phone and set it in the cradle and turn it on.

  “Hey, guys—it’s Sunday Knight! I hope you’re ready to kick off the weekend with a bang, but before you head out and set the world on fire with that Better Than Sex Mascara on point, I thought I’d give you a sneak peek at some of the goodies I scored at the post office.” I slice the box open with a pair of scissors, and Seth catches my eye as he strips off his jacket. I give a sly smile his way without meaning to. It’s a hard and fast rule to shoot these videos when I’m alone so I don’t fall victim to distraction. God knows I’m liable to fall victim to—oh look, shiny!

  I abruptly look back to the camera and try my best to shake all thoughts of Seth Baker out of my head as I unpack item after item, giving each one their due. But Seth must be roasting in here because he’s just peeled off his flannel, and I can’t help but note the way his T-shirt stretches taut over his chest. My God, how does he get that cotton to stretch over those muscles? That man is made of iron and steel like no other. Seth is the beefiest basketball player on the entire team. He looks far more football than he does basketball, but I guess that’s what makes him so powerful.

  “Sunday,” he hisses my name low and nods to the camera.

  “Oh, right.” A remorseful laugh titters from me. “So these blushers in the cute little peach compact are my favorite and, my God, they smell like”—Seth pulls off his shirt, and just seeing his bare flesh in my dorm sets off an infernal fire in me—“smells like spice and woodsy cologne, and I love getting my face right in the neck—nectar.” I startle back to life and gape at the camera. Why in the hell am I talking to a handful of girls when I have a perfectly good boy in my room ready and willing to take care of all my hormonal—and, good grief does pregnancy make you randy—needs? “All right, my sweets. Giveaway!” I shout with contrived enthusiasm as I hold up the entire damn box from between my knees. “Let me know what your favorite scent is, and I’ll pick a random winner from the comments.” I turn off the camera and slap my phone over my dresser before crawling into bed with that beefcake taking up residence there.

  “What the heck was that about?” His brows furrow as I curl into his arms, my fingers strumming over that steely chest of his.

  “That was all your fault. Who do you think you are coming in here and doing a strip tease to seduce me? It’s downright criminal.” My lips find a home over his mouth, and Seth plunges his tongue into me like a punishment. Seth knows exactly how rough and rowdy I like it—mostly because I boss him around until he gets it right, but that’s beside the point. He’s generous enough to give me what I want—what he says I deserve, and all I want is him doing this thing he does with his magic tongue all over my body. Seth is a master at making me moan and groan in all the right ways. I try not to think of the girls who may have gifted him all this experience, and as much as it boils my blood while we’re apart, when we’re together I want nothing more than to pen them a thank you. This boy has skills, and he’s not afraid to use them. Lucky, lucky me.

  We strip off our clothes, and before I know it, I’m riding high, on top, just the way I like it, bouncing, having the best time of my round-bellied life, when the door flies open, and Trixie screams as if we were a couple of vandals. A tall head of hair struggles to peer in behind her—RUSH!

  Trixie shuts the door once again like a reflex, and Seth and I scramble to put on our clothes so fast he ends up wearing my sweatshirt, which was technically his to begin with, and I’m left in his flannel with the front buttoned wonky, and the girls—and, my God, are they huge now—peeking out as if they too were concerned for our safety.

  There’s a gentle knock, and Trixie hops in, sealing herself over the door as if to keep my brother out. He’s either dropped dead or has no clue what was really happening because neither Trixie nor a locked door couldn’t keep him from exploding into the room.

  “Are you kidding me?” Trixie hisses it low like a mean whisper. “You almost got caught.” She looks to Seth. “And you almost got killed.” Her glare reverts my way. “I told him you were doing naked yoga! That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it. He’s waiting for me at the elevator.” She bolts to her bed and swipes her phone off the pillow, holding it for me to see. “I forgot something.” She snickers at Seth. “I’d say use a condom, but I guess you don’t need to. Please leave a shoe outside or something in the future to signal the fact you’re getting busy. And by the way, nice reverse cowgirl. I might try it myself sometime.”

  “Aaargh!” I scream and toss a stuffed animal at her as she cackles her way out the door. “I hate you!” I shout, only half-teasing.

  “Keep up that naked yoga!” she screams through the door.

  “Gah.” I fall back onto the bed and cover my head with a pillow. “I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes.”

  “You?” Seth pulls me into his arms and sits here panting with fear instead of pleasure. Having your brother nearly walk in on you will do that. “Maybe I should say my goodbyes right now. If Rush found me here, under you like that, he would have thrown me off the side of the building.”

  “It would be funny if it wasn’t true.” I nuzzle into the safety of Seth’s neck. I could sleep soundly for a good solid eight doing just this. “We need to get everything out in the open, don’t we?”

  Seth pauses for a moment too long, and I look up at him to find his forehead wrinkled with worry. “I think it’s time.”

  A quick flutter rattles me from the inside, right in the exact spot where—

  “Oh my God. I think the baby just moved!” I take Seth’s hand and lay it over my belly, and the two of us freeze solid, not even daring to take our next breath. The flutter goes off again, harder, far more jolting, and we share a laugh.

  “Sunday.” Seth’s affect changes to that of grief as he quickly sobers up. He glides down until his mouth is over my stomach and presses a soft kiss over it. “I love you.”

  And just like that, my heart melts. “Seth.” I rake my fingers through his thick, soft hair. “You love my baby?” I know he does. Seth is just that wonderful, but it makes me feel bad that I’m dragging him into my drama. And as a person who is openly allergic to drama, it makes my heart hurt for him.

  “I love you and your baby.” He swims back up and holds me with those dark navy eyes pinned to mine, their secrets as unknowable as the depths of the sea. “You’re both mine, Sunday.” He swallows hard, and his eyes tear up. His lips quiver as if he’s trying to push his words out, but they’re strangling him instead.

  I land my finger over his lips and shake my head. The room fades in a blur as the tears come hot and heavy. “Don’t say anything else.” I feel like a monster. Here I am selfishly making him bed me just to ease my insatiable desire, and all the while I have Eli Gates’ baby inside of me. I’m sick. Only a sick person would do that. Seth and I should have waited. We could have cultivated both our relationship and our enthusiasm for
what was to come. Instead, I jumped the gun per usual. My greed knows no bounds.

  Seth and I fall into a hot, delicious kiss that feels as if it lasts for hours. Seth makes love to me thoroughly as if he owed me something, and per usual I greedily accept all he has to give. But I don’t let him breathe another word. I don’t have it in me to hear him tell me it’s all right when I know it’s not.

  That, right there, is the next thing on my list—making things right. And the first thing I need to make right is telling Eli Gates he’s going to be a father. The father of my child.

  It’s time to grow up, do what needs to be done, and as much as it hurts, I refuse to back down this time.

  On Saturday, Nolan sent a group text to Rush and me letting us know he’d like to take us to dinner at the Black Bear. Dad is in town, so he’ll be there, too. Seth mentioned Misty invited him as well. Maybe that’s the right time to tell everyone how we feel about each other. There’s no way my brothers will really kill Seth. They love Seth. Murder isn’t a realistic option. I hope.

  I decide to hit the Black Bear a little early because I happen to know that Serena is almost off work, and she’s on my long list of people I need to make restitution with. The truth is, I miss Serena. I miss her with an aching heart. And I can’t believe I’ve been letting any and everything get between us. It was my petty jealousy of her that led me to that frat house that fateful December night to begin with. If only I had been a bigger person, none of this would have happened—but in a psychotic way, I’m sort of glad it did. I mean, I have Seth in my life in a special way now. My hand glides over my belly a moment—a cardinal sin in and of itself when you’re trying to keep your blooming body out of the public eye. I scan the vicinity for my sweet cousin, but there’s no sign of her bubbling redheaded eminence. Instead, I zero in on the very person I was sort of expertly avoiding—number one on my list of restitution, Eli Gates.

 

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