Dirty, Reckless Love - Lexi Ryan

by Ryan, Lexi

  “Help yourself to the bathroom,” I say, handing her the T-shirt. “A bath might warm you up.”

  As if on cue, she shivers. “That’s a good idea.”

  “If you want, I can throw your clothes in the dryer for you while you’re in the tub so you have something dry for the morning.”

  She stares at the floor. “Thank you, Levi.”

  “Of course.” I step closer and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll text Jake that you’re here, and lock the door on my way out. Call me in the morning?”

  She grabs my arm before I can go far. “I don’t want to be alone. Stay with me? Please?”

  I freeze, and for a few seconds, air refuses to enter my lungs. Stay with me.

  Ellie looks up at me with her big blue eyes, her hand tightening on my wrist. Her wet hair curls into ringlets around her face, defying whatever she does to straighten it when it’s dry. Her T-shirt clings to her, giving me a clear view of her hard nipples beneath the cotton. She isn’t asking for anything more than company, but I’ve wanted to touch this woman from the first day we met, and resisting her tonight might be harder than ever. Because tonight, for the first time since before I laid eyes on her, Colton’s let her go.

  I nod. “Sure.”

  Her lips part and her eyes flare hot. She saw me looking. She liked me looking.

  Both of us sleeping here tonight might be a terrible idea.

  Our eyes lock for a beat too long, and she’s the first to look away. “I think I’ll take a bath,” she says. She walks past me, out of the bedroom and into the bathroom just down the hall.

  When she’s gone, I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes. She wants company in the apartment. Not in bed.

  I’m probably breaking every fucking rule in the bro code manual by even staying here, but I don’t care. Colton fucked up, and he’s going to lose Ellie as a result. I’ve kept my distance for two and a half years out of respect for my friend, but he lost that respect the second he hurt her.

  The old pipes squeak, and I hear the bath running.

  “Levi?” she calls. “Do you just want me to leave my wet clothes outside the bathroom?”

  No. Leave them in the bathroom and give me an excuse to see you naked in the tub. Or better yet, leave them on and let me peel them off you. “That’d be great.”

  I wait in the bedroom and listen for the sounds of the bathroom door opening and closing again before going to the hallway to retrieve the neat stack of wet clothes. I take them to Jake’s laundry closet next to the kitchen, but when I open the dryer, I realize the shirt has blood on it. I dump a little stain gel on the spots and toss it into the washing machine, then unfold the jeans to inspect them for blood.

  A pair of panties falls to the floor. Dark purple. Lace.

  “Fuck me,” I mutter, leaning over to pick them up.

  I throw everything into the wash without further perusal. I thought staring at her nipples through the wet T-shirt was low. I’d rather not hit full-on creep status by staring at her panties. Or imagining her sliding them off her hips.

  I dump laundry detergent in the machine and close the lid to start it.

  The pipes squeak again as the water in the bathroom is turned off, and I listen too hard for the swish of water in the tub. I squeeze my eyes shut and give myself ten seconds to think about Ellie naked in the water, ten seconds to remember how perfect her tight nipples looked under her wet T-shirt, and ten seconds to think about the heat in her eyes before she walked away.

  Then I open the closet to find some sheets and a blanket so I can sleep on the couch.

  Ellie

  Jake’s bathtub is an old claw-foot beast he wanted to get rid of when he remodeled the place. Ava told him doing so would offend the bathroom gods, so he reluctantly kept it and took out an old closet to add a walk-in shower on the other side of the bathroom. At this moment, I’m grateful for Ava’s judgment and my resulting bubbly soak in this tub. I can’t imagine any medicine better for a broken heart.

  Or maybe I can.

  Closing my eyes, I skim my fingers up my stomach and between my breasts, thinking of the way Levi looked at me before I escaped to the bathroom. Every day Colton has failed to touch me has made me feel increasingly undesirable. It felt good to have Levi’s attention tonight. He’s told me I’m hot before, and though I didn’t think he was lying, I took it more as an objective report than a confession of attraction. Other than the night we met, my relationship with Levi has been one hundred percent platonic. It had to be. But every single female cell in my body would have to be blind and numb to have missed the heat in his eyes.

  I sweep my thumbs over my nipples and bite my lip. A healthy dose of feeling sexy and wanted might be the best possible medicine, but tonight I have to settle for this bath.

  I can hear Levi on the other side of the door, moving around the apartment as he busies himself with God knows what.

  I don’t know why I came here. I could have gone to Ava’s or Teagan’s. Levi’s sister, Shay, would have happily opened her door and listened to my sad story. But I didn’t want to tell anyone else. I wanted to tell Levi—the only person who knows Colton as well as I do. The one who’s been there for me through the hardest parts of the last couple of years.

  I don’t know what I expected from Levi, but what I got was a combination of tender caretaker and fierce protector. His reaction felt so good that I’m simultaneously grateful and guilty.

  When the water starts to cool, I pull the drain and climb out, grabbing a towel off the rack to dry myself. Avoiding the mirror, I towel-dry my hair before pulling on Jake’s T-shirt, which skims the middle of my thighs. I was soaked all the way through from lying on the sidewalk in the rain, so even my underwear was wet, meaning I have nothing to put on under the shirt. As long as I don’t reach overhead, I should be decent.

  When I return to the living room, Levi’s sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand and another on the coffee table in front of him.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to chase away the awkwardness that settled in about the time I caught him judging my solo wet T-shirt contest.

  “Nice bath?” he asks.

  I nod. “I didn’t really believe Ava when she said that tub was so comfortable, but she was right. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.”

  Levi laughs softly and waves to the untouched beer. “I got you a drink if you want it.”

  I shake my head. “I’ll pass, but thank you for thinking of me.”

  “There was, um, blood on your clothes, so I threw them into the wash. I’ll put them in the dryer before I go to sleep.”

  I fold my arms, all too aware that he hasn’t let his gaze stray since I entered the room and feeling guilty for wishing it would. “Or I can do it.”

  “You should go to bed. Get some sleep.”

  I spot a stack of sheets and blankets on the end of the couch. He’s planning to sleep out here.

  Why did I think he’d sleep with me? Did I want him to? The answer is so obvious in my mind that my cheeks flame. Maybe I didn’t plan on anything happening between us, but when I asked him to stay, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to sleep alone. I was hoping for the comfort of human contact.

  It’s been so damn long.

  Just someone to share the bed with. Nothing else. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  “You’ve been through enough tonight,” he says, picking at the label on his beer. “You deserve the bed.”

  I shrug. “There’s enough room for both of us.”

  He puts his beer down carefully before turning to me. He studies my face. What does he see there? Cheeks flushed with embarrassment? The scrape on my cheek? The bandage he so tenderly applied? Or can he see what I was thinking about in the tub? Can he see just how good it felt to feel someone’s eyes on me? Does he see the loneliness that makes me want things I shouldn’t?

  His eyes roam lower, over Jake’s T-shirt and down to where the hem skims my thighs. He put my clothes
in the wash. Does he know what I’m not wearing beneath this? Is he thinking about that right now too?

  “Room for both of us,” he murmurs. “In the bed?”

  I nod awkwardly, wishing I could rewind this conversation and try again.

  “You think that’s a good idea?”

  “It’s not like we’d do anything,” I say in a rush. “I just mean . . . it would be nice not to be alone.”

  The way his lips part and his nostrils flare sends heat rushing through my veins to pool in my belly. “I want to be a good friend to you, El, but if I slept beside you, I don’t know if I could . . .” He grabs his beer off the coffee table and tips it to his lips. I watch his throat work as he swallows and drains it.

  When he pulls it away, he sets it down, then stands and crosses the room to stand in front of me. He takes a lock of my hair and slowly wraps it around two fingers. “There are two kinds of guys. There’s the kind who’d crawl into bed with you and take advantage of the fact that you’re hurt and lonely right now. He’d use it as an excuse to cross lines you’re not ready to cross. And then there’s the kind who doesn’t want to cross those lines with you until the time is right but who knows you’re too damn tempting.”

  I lift my gaze to meet his, and the heat in his eyes sends a hot rush through me. “Isn’t there a third type?” I ask. He just arches a brow. “The type who isn’t interested in anything?”

  He grins. “With you? I’d have to see it to believe it.”

  There it is again. That warmth from his attention. “Do you ever think about the night we met? About what we almost . . .” I bite my lip. I’ve made it through almost two and a half years without asking those questions—of Levi or of myself.

  “I try not to.”

  “I’m not sure what that means.”

  He tugs gently on my hair and tries to smile, but there’s far too much tension in the air for either of us to do that convincingly. “It means I don’t think I can have a share-a-bed kind of friendship with you, Ellie. Even if . . .” He releases the lock of hair and steps back. “Especially if you’re lonely.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry . . . I . . .” I bite my bottom lip, feeling hot and foolish all at once. “I didn’t mean to ask you for something that makes you uncomfortable.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology.” He folds his arms. “Hell, if anything, I should be apologizing to you. I’m your friend. I should be perfectly comfortable with sharing a bed with you. I’m pretty sure Ava wouldn’t have to turn you down for fear of groping you in your sleep.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh, and then he does too, and all the tension between us fizzles away. “Well, good night then, Levi.”

  He scans my face again, this time snagging on my lips and staying there. “Good night, Ellie.”

  I pad toward the bedroom before I do something stupid—like beg him to kiss me. Given his little speech, it’s a safe bet he’d decline. But if he didn’t? It would feel amazing. Because this isn’t just anyone. It’s Levi. My friend. My rock. His kiss might just feel better than anything else right now. And we’d both regret it in the morning. He’s doing me a favor by sleeping out here.

  “Ellie,” he calls behind me.

  I stop and turn around. “Yeah?”

  “What happens tomorrow? With Colton?”

  My eyes burn with unexpected tears. I haven’t even told Levi about Noah, let alone my own secret pregnancy. I don’t think I have it in me to navigate those emotional land mines tonight. “I ask him to move out.”

  He swallows hard and gives a sharp nod. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  I press my hand to my belly, and my breath catches in my throat. A few months ago, Ava was planning to have a baby and raise it on her own, and I thought she was crazy. I’m not like her. I watched my own mother struggle to get by after Dad left, and I’ve watched Brittany struggle to give Phoebe all she needs. I’m terrified of being a single mom. But I also know what it was like for Mom before Dad left, when she pretended his infidelity didn’t hurt. “If I let him stay, it would be for the wrong reasons.”

  I stay in bed and listen to the comforting sounds drifting from the kitchen: running water, and the clattering dishes being pulled from the rack and returned to the cupboard.

  It’s only six a.m. and normally I take advantage of the weekend and sleep in, but I’ve been up since five when the ding of my text message alert woke me. It was Colton, demanding to know where I was and why I wasn’t at home. I didn’t reply, but couldn’t go back to sleep either. Since this pregnancy has gifted me with a bladder the size of a pea, I used the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

  I watched the numbers click by on the digital clock beside the bed, unable to sleep but uninterested in facing the day, and twenty minutes later, I heard Levi’s steps in the living room.

  I’m not avoiding him so much as what comes after that—going home and talking to Colton. Telling him I know where he spent his night just makes it too real. It’s time to let him go, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.

  Then there’s everything that happened with Levi last night. And everything that didn’t happen but could have—if he were different or I were. I can’t deny the slow, hot pull of attraction I felt when he stared at my mouth and told me he couldn’t sleep in this bed without taking advantage of me. What does it say about me that I wanted him to? The thought alone would give Colton all the excuse he needed to swing at Levi. It doesn’t matter that nothing happened.

  For the last two and a half years, I’ve been very careful about the way I looked at Colton’s best friend. Colton’s anger may be as easily lit as a match, but once ignited, it’s more like a detonated bomb—not nearly so easy to extinguish. He’s always had a temper, but it’s worse when he’s been using. Not that I can tell when he uses anymore. He hides it better than he used to. He pretends he’s clean, and I pretend I believe him. It’s amazing the things we endure when we fall in love with the best version of a person. We become afraid to lose them even at their worst.

  When the smell of coffee drifts to me, I decide it might be worth getting up. After climbing out of bed, I open the door to find a neat stack of my clothes waiting for me in the hallway. Levi must have folded them and put them there for me this morning so I wouldn’t have to leave the bedroom half clothed again.

  I take the stack and pull on my underwear and jeans, leaving the top button unsnapped. I’m fourteen weeks pregnant today, and I haven’t gained weight and don’t have a visible bump, but my clothes are already starting to fit differently. A little tight at the waist. A lot tight across the chest.

  I stop by the bathroom on my way to the kitchen and use some of Jake’s toothpaste on my finger in an attempt at brushing my teeth. My hair is in wild waves around my face, and I can only lightly finger-comb it without turning it to a big ball of frizz. When I’ve done the best I can with my limited supplies, I stare at myself in the mirror for a long beat.

  I don’t even know who this girl is. She’s lonely, scared, and tired. I’ve never been as tired in my life as I have been the last two months. Ava tells me it’s the pregnancy hormones, but I think it might be the boyfriend. The circles under my eyes have gotten darker, but today they’re overshadowed by the bandage across my forehead and the scrape along my jaw.

  I didn’t bother with a bra last night before going out to search for Colton, and the outline of my pregnancy-swollen breasts is clear even through this baggy T-shirt. I can’t decide if I look more like an overworked mother who’s given up on beauty or a hungover co-ed slinking out of a guy’s room the morning after a wild party. I want to think it’s more the latter, but I’m pretty sure I’m kidding myself.

  I head to the kitchen where Levi is leaning against the counter. He’s in jeans and a gray, ribbed tank that’s molded to his torso and makes me all too aware of every muscled inch of him. “Good morning,” I say. His gaze moves from the coffee in his hand to me.

  I catch myself looking for the heat in his eyes
I saw last night. I don’t think I realized how much I missed being looked at, being seen and desired. Colton and I have had our fair share of problems, but his attraction to me was something I took for granted until he inexplicably pulled away. But with Levi’s eyes on me, I realize I’m hungry for any sort of validation. All the insecurities this pregnancy has brought on—financial, emotional, and physical—demand to be appeased by the simple reassurance of being desirable. As petty or shallow as that may be, it remains true.

  Levi’s gaze snags on my chest, and I swear his nostrils flare for a beat before he lifts his gaze back up to meet mine. I let myself revel in this superficial substitution for acceptance. Did he lie on the couch thinking about me? Is it bad that I hope he did?

  The angel on my shoulder is disgusted. Get it together, Ellie. You’re having Colton’s baby.

  And Colton was with Molly last night, the devil on my shoulder says.

  I push away my jumble of thoughts. “Is there enough of that for me?” I ask, waving to the coffee pot.

  Levi nods. “Help yourself. Sugar in the cupboard, cream in the fridge.”

  I nod, careful to pour myself only half a cup. I’ve been weaning myself off caffeine since the stick showed me that tiny pink plus sign, but I hate decaf, so thus far I still allow myself a half cup of the regular stuff each morning. Because a Jackson made this pot, I know it’s bound to be worth every sip.

  I doctor my coffee, and my spoon clinks against the side of the mug as I stir in a spoonful of sugar and a dash of cream. “Colton texted this morning.”

  “Did he?”

  I keep my gaze on the light brown brew. “He wanted to know why I wasn’t at home.” My voice sounds stilted, almost robotic, and I clear my throat. I’m a little numb to all things Colton McKinley this morning. I have to protect my heart, and he’s been slowly breaking it for the last two months. “I think he’s worried I’m cheating on him.”