Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) (19 page)

“You know, sweetie, I like this one.” My mom nods toward Ryan, who is shouting at the tv with my dad. I finish washing a dish in the sink and hand it to my mom to dry.

I look over to Ryan, who looks completely content to be sitting back watching a game with his theoretical father-in-law. He yells something at the screen, and smiles when my dad calls the ref a hack. “Yeah, he’s not so bad.” I laugh lightly.

“He’ll be a great husband and a great father. I can see that already. He’s so much better for you than Jake ever was.” This is news to me . . . I always thought my mom was sad after Jake and I broke up. I also think back to seeing Jake at the drive-in . . . how I felt nothing for him and how Ryan stood up for me.

“I thought you liked Jake?”

My mom clicks her tongue in disapproval. “I pretended to like him, for your sake, but I always thought he was bad news. You needed to make that mistake for yourself, but I was relieved when it ended. I love you sweetie, but you’ve always been too much of a romantic, and it broke my heart to see you blinded by that. Up until the end you looked at that boy like the sun rose and set with him and he let you do it, only to break your heart. No, Ryan’s different. I can see what you guys have is different. You’re perfect for each other.”

Tears form in my eyes and I have the urge to spill everything about the truth. My mom would understand, right? But then I think of Ryan and our deal, and I settle for only admitting one small truth.

“We’re far from perfect, mom. When it’s good, it’s really good. I actually believe we can make it and everything will be fine. But sometimes I get scared and think I’m making it all up. What if it’s not real, just like last time?” I drop my head, trying to hold back the tears when I feel my mom come up behind me and squeeze my shoulders.

“Honey, it might not be perfect, but it’s real. In fact, that’s how you can tell.” She kisses my cheek and goes back to drying the dishes, humming happily.

Real?
How can something that’s based on a lie ever be real?

Ryan

Twenty-six Weeks

I
f I thought I was having a hard time keeping my emotions in check before, after meeting Kelley’s parents I know I’m fucking boned. Figures that a cool-as-fuck girl like her would have two fucking cool parents. I know she’s embarrassed by their bluntness, but I think it’s perfect. My family never wanted to talk about anything and look at what a clusterfuck we turned out to be. Shit, I’m so messed up about what the fuck I’m feeling for Kelley that I’ve been hiding from her like a little chickenshit for the past two weeks.

Well that and the fact I have another surprise for her.

But mostly I’m just a pussy. One minute she’s driving me insane, and the next I crave to be inside her. It’s a goddamn maddening itch I can’t seem to fucking scratch and I needed some time alone to get my head on straight.

I look at my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the gray wall to give myself a pep talk.

All right man, just remember who you are. She deserves the best, and that sure as shit isn’t you. Be there for her, but when this is over let her get the fuck on with her life.

I stand up tall, feeling like I got this shit locked down, and head out of my home office to find Kelley. She’s lying on the living room floor, head resting on a pillow with her feet propped on the coffee table, a bowl of chips balancing on her stomach with a book held up in her hands, blocking her face. I swing myself over the back of the couch and without even looking out from under her book she blurts out, “How do you feel about the name Jamie?”

I angle my face to read the title.
The Complete Book of Baby Names.
“I think it sucks.” She pulls the book away from her face to glare at me. “What? I knew someone named Jamie in high school and he was a royal douche,” I say matter-of-factly.

She continues to read from the list. “Ok, What about Beckett?”

I shake my head. “I went to kindergarten with a Beckett. He used to steal everyone’s animal crackers.”

Kelley snorts. “Well we can’t set our kid up to be a cookie thief, now can we?”

“Hell no.” I motion for the book, and she hands it over. I peruse the list. “Isaac. That could be cool.”

“I once worked with a guy named Isaac. He was fired when they found out he was putting trips to the strip club on the company credit card.” Kelley props herself up on her elbow, popping a chip in her mouth.

“Fuck, that’s a no then.” I scan a few more names, suddenly able to recall every asshole I ever met. “Shit, you never realize how many people you hate until it’s time to name your baby.”

Kelley bobs her head in agreement. “Seriously.”

I flip a few pages in the book. “How about Jordan? Jordan Blake. That has a nice ring to it.”

Kelley shakes her head, disapproving. “And who says the baby’s last name is going to be Blake?”

I stare at her. “What do you mean, of course it will be.”

She shrugs. “I figured he’d have my name.”

I close the book. “Are you serious?”

She pops another chip in her mouth. “I want to have the same last name as my kid.”

“And you don’t think I want the same thing?”

She looks as if the thought never really occurred to her. She goes quiet and starts to get that sad look I can’t fucking stand to see. I never thought about how much stuff you have to consider when having a kid. It’s like every single choice you make will affect them for the rest of their lives and it’s overwhelming as hell. No wonder I prefer not to think about the future too much.

“Hey.” I drop the book on the table and move her bowl of chips next to it. “Let’s talk about this later. I have something I want to show you.” I extend my hand to help her off the floor. She hesitates, but eventually lets me pull her up.

“Close your eyes.” She eyes me skeptically. “I’m good at surprises, remember?” I wiggle my eyebrows, trying to dismiss the concerned look on her face. She cracks a smile and finally does as I say. I step behind her and grab her hip with my right hand, covering her eyes with my left to make sure she can’t peek. I carefully guide her down the hall past the guest bathroom.

“You better not be showing me some creepy secret sex dungeon or something, Blake. I mean it.”

I press my mouth to her ear before whispering, “You know you’d love it.”

As we reach the threshold of my closed office door and I bring us to a stop, I take one deep breath to calm my nerves.

I hope she loves this even more . . .

Kelley

“Y
ou better not be showing me some creepy secret sex dungeon or something, Blake. I mean it.”

As I blindly let Ryan lead me, I find myself nervous. The last time he surprised me with the drive-in movie I just about handed my heart right over. But then again, he’s been pretty distant ever since he met my parents, and I can’t say I blame him—we’re a lot to handle.

“You know you’d love it.” His warm breath tickles my ear, and damn it if he isn’t right. I feel him bring us to a halt and after a second I hear a door open. He removes his hand from my eyes, but keeps one on my hip. “Ok, you can look.”

I slowly raise my eyelids, a little afraid of what I’ll find. When my eyes finally focus and adjust to what they see, tears immediately well up behind them. Big, fat ones that will surely make me ugly cry—not cute. It takes everything in me not to let them fall as I step into the room.

I immediately know this to be Ryan’s office, although it looks completely different. The walls are now painted a light gray with a crisp white trim. In the far corner a white tufted rocking chair sits with a gray knitted blanket draped over the back. On the left wall is a rustic wooden crib with black and white polka-dotted sheets. A few soft-looking stuffed animals are lined up across the back of the crib. Small, white, wooden cloud cutouts adorn the walls and slate gray curtains cover the windows. An antique chandelier hangs from the middle of the ceiling, and a little mobile of clouds, the moon, and stars hangs directly above the crib. A changing table is off to the right, along with a small bookcase filled with an assortment of toys and books.

I let out a small gasp as I slowly take in every last detail. A small side table next to the crib has a simple typewritten quote in a wood frame:

“don’t think. it

complicates things.

just feel, and if it

feels like home, then

follow its path.”

- r.m. drake

“That’s probably the best piece of advice I can hope to give our kid.” I hear Ryan’s soft voice from behind me. I turn to see him still standing in the doorway, leaning against it with his hands in his pockets. I’m not sure how to read him right now—he looks calm like this is no big deal so I can’t figure out what it means. All I
do
know is I want to run and throw my arms around his neck and kiss his perfect, beautiful mouth, but I stop myself in time to realize it’s probably not appropriate. It’s one thing to kiss him when we’re screwing each other silly, when the urge to do so comes from between my legs, but it’s another to want to do it when it comes from inside my chest.

“I can’t believe you did this. How? . . . When? . . . Why? . . .” I can barely choke out in an incredulous whisper.

“I just figured he could use a cool place to sleep when he gets out. I did most of it while you were at work. I asked Kinsley for help picking out some of the furniture, but I put it all together.”

He motions to the black toolbox in the corner of the room and looks so damn proud it makes my heart melt. Ryan and I might never have a chance at love, but if I had any doubts regarding how he feels about our child, they were just hurled out this carefully decorated nursery window.

“But where’s all your stuff? Where are you going to work?”

“I put most of it in storage. I can work anywhere with my laptop, plus I have my actual office in town, remember? It’s not a big deal.”

He brushes it off easily, but deep down I know what a sacrifice this is for him. One he seems more than willing to make for the sake of our son. A small voice inside my head can’t help but bitterly add,
“Yeah, he did this for our kid, but it doesn’t change how he feels about you.”