Keeping Score

by Alyssa Kale

  “Maybe. It’s just a lot, ya know? Just a few months ago, I wanted to punch him in the face. And now, he’s buying out a baby store so my child has all the very best things.”

  “Do you care about him?”

  I nod.

  “Do you more than care about him?”

  Nod.

  “Trust him, Soph. I have a feeling y’all are on the same page.”

  Isn’t that the problem? I don’t know that I trust myself to not choose a man to love that will hurt me again.

  I read in one of my prenatal books that nesting happens at the end of a pregnancy. Maybe if I had waited to pack my office until then, I’d find it much more satisfying. With my final stack of books and supplies stacked in the corner of my bedroom, I meander into the kitchen and fill my water bottle. My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I slip it out.

  Braxton: Afternoon, beautiful.

  Me: Hi. How’s golfing?

  Braxton: There’s a reason I play baseball. What are you up to?

  Me: Just cleaning out my office to have it ready for the furniture to be delivered.

  Braxton: What are you doing tonight?

  Before I can answer, my phone rings, and Braxton’s name flashes across the screen. I smile then swipe to answer.

  “Hi.” Butterflies take flight in my stomach, and I feel ridiculous being this giddy. We’ve been friends for months, and it isn’t the first time we’ve spoken on the phone. Regardless, last night was a turning point for us, and this feels different.

  “Hey, so I was wondering what your plans were tonight?”

  “Glamorous things. Cleaning and making a grocery list. Maybe I’ll paint my nails. Skies the limit, really.”

  His deep laugh makes my heart soar. “Any chance I can talk you into dinner at my place?”

  Two nights in a row? That feels like more than a friend who helped with a craving. “Before you say no, I already have queso coming. A ton of it from different restaurants.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

  I pause a bit longer, already knowing my answer but wanting to torture him a little bit more.

  “You’re killing me here, Soph.”

  “Fine, but only for the queso. It’s my weakness,” I tease.

  “I knew the queso would seal the deal.” He chuckles. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  “I’ll drive myself. You don’t have to come all this way.”

  Silence fills the line, and I hope I haven’t offended him. There’s a rustling and a “shut up” from a distance.

  “Sorry. The guys are being idiots. Do you remember how to get to my place?”

  “Yep.” I want to ask how I can forget scurrying through his gated community and diving into the back of an Uber, but I don’t.

  He rattles off the code to the gate and makes me promise not to back out. Something about doing it for his athletic body. He can’t eat all the queso alone.

  When we hang up, I go to my bedroom and strip out of my clothes. Taking a moment to assess my reflection, I’m in awe of the way my body has changed. My breasts are fuller and my hips a little wider, but looking at me straight on, it only appears I’ve put on a few pounds. It’s when I turn to the side my current pregnancy status is obvious. Or when I try to wear a pair of my jeans. Those stay unbuttoned and below my belly button.

  Running my hand across my abdomen, I make a vow to myself and my baby that we’ll be okay. We’re loved by many, and that’s enough to help us figure everything out. Strolling to my closet, I slide the hangers across the bar, trying to find something loose enough to wear. I really need to accept that it’s time for a few new clothing pieces. Thankfully, even in the fall, Texas is warm. Maxi dresses and skirts are my friends for now.

  Once I’m showered and dressed in a flowy maxi dress that barely confines my new chest, I slip on a pair of sandals and grab a denim jacket from the closet. This isn’t a date or anything, but it feels good to get ready to do more than hang out with Kendall.

  Unexpected nerves course through me as I pull up to the large gates and enter the code Braxton gave me to get into his gated community. The place he chose because it’s safe and keeps the fans and press out of his business. He trusts me.

  I push that tidbit to the back of my mind as I follow the route I used on my escape from his house. When I pull into the driveway, the garage door opens like I summoned it with my arrival. Braxton appears next to his truck, motioning for me to pull into the empty space next to him. Dear Lord. He’s dressed in low-slung gray sweats and a tight T-shirt that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. I suddenly feel overdressed.

  When I turn off the ignition, he opens my door. It’s impossible to not return the huge smile on his face. I’ve not made it a step outside the car when his hand slips around my waist and he drops a quick kiss to my lips. Oh boy.

  “Hi.” My voice is raspy and full of need.

  “You look beautiful. Come on, the queso waits for no one.”

  Giggling, I let him take my hand and lead me into the house. I have a sense of déjà vu from when I was here before.

  “Go make yourself at home.” He points to the sofa. “Would you like something to drink?”

  I nod. “Water would be nice, thank you.”

  Kicking off my shoes and tossing my purse and jacket onto the oversized chair, I settle on the couch, pulling my feet under me. A few minutes later, he’s walking into the living room with a tray of chips, queso, and two glasses of water.

  “This is just from three restaurants. I have more in the fridge when we run out.”

  I look up at him and laugh. “I can’t believe you really ordered queso from so many restaurants.”

  He shrugs and winks. “You said you were craving queso, so queso you get.”

  If I weren’t already drowning in feelings for this man, his gift of my second greatest craving after him would solidify it. We spend the rest of the evening indulging in cheesy goodness and telling stories of growing up. The way Braxton speaks of his mom makes me miss my own. I wish she were here to share in this new phase of my life.

  Resting my feet in his lap, I’m completely stuffed from our dinner of grilled steak and potatoes and in pure heaven as he massages his way from my feet to my calves while his eyes are on the television. Gosh, he’s good at this. I’m so comfortable. Not only on this couch but with him. In this moment. It’s all I’ve ever wished for in a relationship. Complete ease and comfort with someone I can laugh with and talk about anything without pause. My hands rest on the reminder of why this is a bad idea.

  “Brax,” I start nervously.

  “Hmmm?” he says, almost absentmindedly.

  “I should probably get back home.”

  He turns his head to face me, concern on his face. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I just…” I’m searching for words to tell him how I’m feeling. It is impossible to find the right ones when I don’t fully comprehend what the feeling is. “It’s getting late, and if I’m too relaxed, I’ll probably fall asleep if you keep massaging my feet.”

  “Soph, stop.” His hands drop my feet as he shifts, his body hovering over mine. “Stay. For a few hours or all night. Just stay.”

  Braxton Lee’s kisses are like none I’ve ever experienced. He sings a siren’s song with each swipe of his tongue. It’s a passionate melody that I never want to end. That’s exactly why it must.

  I put my hands on his chest and push him back slightly. “Braxton, we can’t.”

  “Why not?” he asks, his lips dropping to the spot just below my ear, causing me to release a moan. Sweet Jesus.

  “Because….” Words are hard to come by as he nips then sucks on my neck. My reasons seem more like excuses as he sends jolts of want and need through my core.

  Giving up his worship of my neck, he cups my face. “What if you stop thinking this is a bad idea and just go with how you feel? Would you be stopping me?”

  Sighing, I shake my head.

  “I’m not going to ma
ke promises to you, Soph. I can’t do that, because when I do, it will be because you’re ready. This is right with us. It always has been. You know it as well as I do, and I’m tired of pretending you don’t matter to me.”

  “Braxton,” I say his name on a sigh. How does a woman argue with that kind of speech? “I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. You’ve gone through that once al—”

  He cuts me off with a kiss. “That was a completely different situation.”

  “Is it though?” I ask.

  “Yes. I was with Amber because of a baby. She was trying to trick me. I’m with you because of you. I want to be with you, Sophie. This baby, he or she is part of you and doesn’t scare me. I know you think it should, but really, it doesn’t.”

  Not knowing how to respond to that, I just go with “Look, Brax, I just don’t want to deal with a relationship right now. I like you as a friend, but a relationship would complicate my life even further.”

  Braxton just nods, then says, “I understand that, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t hang out, you know?” I nod, and he continues, “Friends?”

  “Friends,” I agree. So we’re going to continue this “friends” thing? I mean, whatever, but we both know that friends don’t do what we did yesterday.

  A moment of awkward silence passes before Braxton breaks out into one of the best laughs I’ve ever heard. It’s deep and husky and sends a bolt of electricity straight to my core. “Friends with benefits?” he asks hopefully.

  My hormones take over, because all I can do is nod then climb on top of him, kissing him senseless.

  This works too.

  31

  * * *

  BRAXTON

  Holy fuck, I was not expecting that. The friends with benefits comment was me half joking. I would love more with Sophie, but I’ll take her any way I can get her right now, and apparently that’s her, on top of me, fucking my mouth with hers.

  Sophie backs away a little bit to say, “I want you,” as she begins lifting up the bottom of my shirt. I reach down to help her pull it off, and her hands go straight to my abs. She’s rubbing me everywhere, and it feels so fucking good.

  She starts kissing down my neck and my chest, leaving no spot left untouched by her lips.

  “Soph,” I say, unable to form any other words.

  “Hmmm?” she says but doesn’t stop.

  “That feels so good.”

  This seems to encourage her as she slides off the sofa and begins tugging at the waistband of my sweats.

  She manages to pull them and my boxers off at the same time, freeing my rock-hard cock that’s only seen my hand for the last four months, and my God, I need her.

  Before I can lift her up to start removing her clothes, her hand begins stroking me, then her tongue licks from the base to the tip, slowly. Teasing me.

  Fuuuck. That feels so good.

  “Sophie,” I say huskily.

  She doesn’t say anything or look at me though; instead, she takes my cock and slides it into her mouth. Just the tip at first, then the entire thing. And that’s when she looks at me. On her knees, my cock in her mouth. Her still fully clothed. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

  As much as I don’t want to, I need to stop her or I’m going to blow in her mouth, and no way am I ready for this to end. Hell no.

  “Sophie,” I say as I gently pull her up.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks, suddenly unsure of herself.

  “Hell yes, everything is okay. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I just don’t want to finish yet,” I tell her as I begin pulling off her dress.

  When the fabric falls to a puddle around her feet, I stand up and kiss her again, tasting my precum on her lips. I slowly make my way down her neck and to her sports bra. It’s got a zipper in the front, so I kiss down her breasts as I pull the zipper down. Taking my sweet time.

  With her bra gone, I take turns sucking each nipple into my mouth, and it elicits moans from her each time. I keep doing it, because I could never tire of that sound.

  When I’ve given her breasts plenty of attention, I move my way to her stomach, not leaving it untouched either. I make it to her hipbones and kiss around her panties, taking the time to kiss nearly every inch of new skin that gets exposed. She just looks down at me with lust-filled eyes.

  I place my mouth on her pussy, over her panties, and then I look up at her. The sounds she’s making are almost enough to make me come.

  “Braxton, please,” she begs.

  I know exactly what she’s begging for, but I want to hear her say it. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to kiss me,” she says shakily.

  “Where, baby?” I ask again, knowing good and well where she wants to be kissed.

  “There?” she prompts.

  “Say it, Sophie,” I demand.

  “My pussy. Kiss my pussy,” she says wantonly.

  I smile then rip her panties off and kiss her pussy like my life depends on it. She’s so fucking wet.

  Her legs start to shake a little, so I pause and guide her to sit down on the edge of the sofa.

  “Don’t stop, Brax,” she begs. “Please don’t stop.”

  I don’t answer with words, but I begin teasing her clit with my tongue at the same time I bury a finger into her wet and waiting heat.

  I can feel her clenching around my finger. She’s close. “Come on, baby,” I whisper.

  A few seconds later, she’s coming, and I swear I would give her a million orgasms just to see that look on her face. She’s so fucking beautiful. I mean, she’s always beautiful, but the face she makes when she’s coming—when I’m making her come—is a sight to behold.

  When we’ve both managed to catch our breath, I carry her into my bedroom and place her on my bed. I slide in on the other side and hold her. Both of us still breathing heavy but neither of us saying a word.

  After a few more minutes have passed, I break the silence. “Soph?”

  “Yeah?” she asks, looking up at me, sending a pulse of electricity straight to my dick. I’m now even harder—didn’t know that was possible.

  “Is this okay?” I ask as I lean down to kiss her again.

  She just nods and moves her hands up my chest to my neck and pulls me in for a deeper kiss. My hand on her breast slowly and gently makes its way down to her swollen stomach and then to her pussy, which is wet. So. Fucking. Wet. And ready for me.

  I roll her on her back and position myself to enter her, looking at her, making sure this is okay. I rub my dick along her entrance, feeling her heat.

  “Condom?” I ask out of respect.

  “I’m clean and already pregnant, sooo….” she jokes.

  I laugh. “I’m clean too.” Then I start to push in.

  Slowly. Torturously. Heaven. She’s heaven.

  “Ahhh,” she moans.

  When I’m all the way in, I just pause to soak in what is happening. “You.” Pull out. “Feel.” Push in. “So.” Pull out. “Good.” Push in.

  “Braxton,” she says, almost as a question.

  “You okay?” I ask, worried I’ve hurt her.

  “Yes, please don’t stop.” And I don’t.

  I’m close, but I want her to come with me, so I reach between us and rub her clit. This sends her over the edge, and the second I feel her pussy tighten around me, I come too.

  I roll back on my side, staring at her, and she stares back. No words exchanged, we’re both too overwhelmed to say anything. We lie there for a few minutes, just breathing, before she starts to get up. I touch her shoulder. “No, lie back down. I’ll go get a washcloth and towel.”

  “No, it’s okay. I need to go to the restroom anyway,” she says, taking the top sheet with her, suddenly shy.

  I just smile to myself. This woman.

  32

  * * *

  SOPHIE

  I seriously don’t know what has gotten into me. We’re not even really dating, although
he has taken me out on a couple of dates, one of which ended us up on sleazy tabloids.

  He’s so kind and caring. And in another life, we’d truly be a couple, but the public eye is not for me. I much prefer being behind the camera. Just, not in a stalker capacity like the paparazzi.

  Braxton and I just went down on each other then had sex. Hot. Incredible sex.

  When I’m finished cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I wrap the sheet back around me and walk into the room to see Braxton lying on the bed completely naked, eyes closed, but I don’t think he’s asleep. His dick, while currently flaccid, is still something to brag about. I don’t know how he hides it in his baseball pants. Those things are tight. And suddenly I want to see him in baseball pants and nothing else.

  “You checking me out, Soph?”

  Fuck, I’m busted. Again.

  “Ummm… no comment,” I quickly reply before going to the living room to get my clothes.

  When I’m back in his bedroom, I see he’s gone to the bathroom to clean himself up, so I hurriedly put my underwear back on. I start to get back in bed, but now I don’t know. Do I stay a little longer, or do I go? We’re not dating, so I assume I’m not staying the night.

  Completely caught up in my thoughts I don’t hear him return, but he puts his arms around me and kisses my neck. It feels so good I moan. It encourages him to keep going, but I turn around and stop him.

  “I should go,” I say. “It’s getting late, and I have to work tomorrow.”

  He looks confused for a second but seems to understand. “Okay, I’ll walk you down to your car. Just give me a second to put some clothes on.”

  A few minutes later, after I put my dress back on, we stand next to my car in very uncomfortable silence, me juggling my keys, wanting to say more. Wanting to find an excuse to stay but knowing it’s not a good idea.

  I unlock my car and go to open the door, Braxton right behind me. Before I get in, he grabs my waist to turn me around. Within seconds, his lips are on mine again. I don’t want to stop. I don’t really want to leave, but I have to. I can’t keep letting this go on. My hormones are already crazy, and at some point, he’s going to realize I have another person to take care of, and he’s not going to want me anyway. I need to distance myself again before I’m in too deep. Only, I’m afraid I already am.