Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) (4 page)

Truth is I have no one to be mad at but myself. As much as he might have been involved, Ryan never forced me to do anything. If memory serves, I was more than willing to be an eager participant. Now that I know that kind of intense bliss, I do kinda wonder how I’ve gone without it all these years. I’ll never admit it out loud, but maybe Ryan was right; maybe my ex really was just bad at sex. Even though it meant nothing, I felt more connected to Ryan than I ever did with Jake.

As I sit here staring at the positive pregnancy test, I’m hit with a flood of emotions . . . emotions I’ve refused to think about for the past seven years . . .

Seven Years Ago

“Hey, babe. I just got off the phone with my mom. She wants you to call her to talk about some wedding shit. I still don’t understand why you two are planning this so soon. I told you both this will be a long engagement. I want to graduate and get a job and start to establish myself.”

Jake comes through the front door to my tiny, shared apartment and throws his coat on the counter. He immediately walks to the fridge to grab a beer and I’m too excited to notice he barely looks at me, let alone kisses me hello. He turns around and takes a swig of his beer, finally noticing I’m standing there, hands behind my back, about ready to burst.

He looks annoyed as he shrugs at me. “What?”

I smile even bigger as I move my arms in front of me, revealing the small plastic stick.

Jake stares at it, looking confused. “What the fuck is that?”

I hold it out and can’t help but giggle in delight. “We’re going to have a baby, babe!”

I wait for him to understand and match my enthusiasm, but he just hangs his head and looks both tired and pissed.

“Jake?”

He lets out a big breath before yelling, “Damn it, Kelley. I can’t deal with this shit right now. Don’t you think we have enough going on without a baby ruining it?”

I physically retract at his harsh tone. He notices and slowly comes over to me, patting my shoulders and softening his tone. “Come on, babe. You have to admit this is bad timing. Don’t you think we should wait?”

I try to hold back tears that threaten to fall. “I didn’t plan for this, Jake. But it’s happened and it’s too late, now.”

He pulls me closer to him and rubs his hands down my back. “It’s not too late, Kell. I know this clinic and they—“

I snap my eyes up to his, pushing him back. “Are you seriously saying what I think you’re saying?”

He looks at my pleadingly. “I’m sorry. I know, it’s stupid. Forget I mentioned it. I’m only thinking of us . . . of our future. Please don’t look at me like that. We’re about to graduate and start our lives. Don’t you understand?”

His voice is quiet and sincere, and I don’t want to argue. All we seem to do lately is fight, and I’m afraid I’ll lose him. Maybe he’s right. I swallow down my previous excitement and feel numb as I nod and let him hug me. He whispers that we’ll figure it out and I give in and let my tears fall, feeling empty and sad.

Over the next week, Jake seemed to be more excited about the baby, but I could feel the resentment he carried toward me. I tried my best to make it work, even though I knew in my heart we had grown apart a long time ago. I tried to convince myself a baby would bring us closer, but when I woke up to find my sheets soaked in red a week later, I knew it was fate’s way of telling me our relationship was completely, painfully, and undoubtedly over.

My memories of Jake fade as I choose instead to recall the way Ryan felt moving under and inside me . . . how his mouth tasted like cinnamon . . . how his hands left my skin feeling hot . . .

My lady parts involuntarily contract, seeming to argue it was more than worth it. But then my brain kicks in with the rational realization that I am once again carrying the child of a man who is most definitely
not
Mr. Right, and I feel like I’m going to hurl. Whether it’s morning sickness or just a harsh dose of reality, either way it blows.

This is s
o
not a part of my life plan.

When my period was late I thought it was just my hormones being thrown out of whack since it has been a while (OK, let’s be honest, it was the first time ever) that I felt that much pleasure, but lately I can barely keep my eyes open, I’m eating my weight in peanut M&Ms, I pee about five thousand times a day, and it feels like someone sucker-punched my boobs.

So here I am: pregnant, alone, and hiding in the office bathroom.

Earlier I convinced myself there was no way I was actually pregnant—I mean he used a condom for crap sake. But since I couldn’t focus on anything else, I grabbed a test during lunch thinking it would come back negative and I could get on with my life. After the first one was positive I hoped it was a mistake, but after six glasses of water and five tests later, I think it’s finally starting to sink in.

If I’m being honest, though, deep down I knew, even from the first positive reading. There’s always a risk when we make certain choices. Especially when we know those choices aren’t necessarily 100% effective. I’m not stupid enough to wonder how this happened. Oh, I know how it happened all right . . . I just didn’t want to believe it could happen to
me
. I’m one of
those
girls now. The 2%. A statistic.

For a split second I let my mind wander to consider my options, but as quickly as the painful thought enters my mind, I know in my heart it’s not an option. It never has been. I look down at the two little pink lines, and suddenly they don’t seem that bad. Scary as hell? Definitely. But I’ll find a way to handle it. I made my bed on the floor of that dark and dirty storage shed, and now I intend to lie in it.

Alone this time. Alone and fully clothed.

The creak of the bathroom door opening yanks me from my thoughts.

I recognize our receptionist’s soft voice. “Kelley, are you in here?”

I quickly stash the plastic stick I’m still holding into my purse with the others. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec.”

“OK, I’ll tell Mr. Burton. The broker for that building across town is here to go over terms of the potential contracts so he’s looking for you.”

Shit.
I forgot we had that meeting this afternoon. I stand in the small stall and take a deep breath before grabbing my bag and unlatching the door. I breeze over to the sink and wash my hands. “I just have to grab my files from my desk. I’ll be right there.”

I smile a calm, collected smile as Gemma nods and scurries back out into the hall.

I wipe my hands on the hand towel before catching my own reflection in the mirror. Almost automatically, I lift my arm to brush a hand across my stomach.

Well, kid, I hope you’re comfortable in there, ‘cause there is no way I’m letting you go. We’re kind of stuck with each other.

After dropping my bag in my office and grabbing my folder labeled
Grind
I head toward the conference room down the hall. Our client, Caleb Jones, is hoping to open a coffee house across town, but the men in charge of leasing the spot he wants are being difficult. They say they have a lot of offers on the place, but we convinced them to come and hear us out. My boss, Scott Burton, is already seated across from another man as I glide into the seat next to him, trying not to draw too much attention to the fact I’m late. Or growing a tiny human.

Thankfully they’re still making small talk so I have a minute to organize my papers and thoughts. I’ve done a lot of work to help Caleb, and I refuse to let my recent revelation distract me from my job. Up until recently I’ve focused mainly on our residential accounts, so I’m grateful Mr. Burton has been letting me learn about the commercial side of things. As both a real estate broker and an attorney, he already has more work than he can handle, and, since I passed my own broker’s license exam to become an associate six months ago, he’s been giving me a lot more responsibility in general. I can only imagine how thrilled he’ll be when he finds out about my current
situation
. As if I didn’t already have enough to worry about . . .

“Mr. Andrews, we can’t thank you enough for agreeing to sit with us today. This is my associate, Kelley Brooks.” My boss gestures toward me and the stodgy looking man across the conference table nods at the introduction.

Just as I get ready to launch into my spiel about why
Grind
would be such a great addition to the area, the opening of the conference room door catches everyone’s attention. When I see who walks through, I nearly hurl again.

Ryan fuck-me-on-the-floor Blake.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a nightmare.” He reaches out to shake Scott’s hand. “Mr. Burton.” And then he gets a cocky, damn delicious grin on his face as he nods my way. “Ms. Brooks. Good to see you again.”

I stare blankly in response while he sits next to Mr. Andrews, adjusting his tie as he settles in. Mr. Andrews explains, “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Ryan here to consult on this with me. He’s familiar with the legal aspects of our client’s real estate dealings so I thought he could be a valuable asset.”

My boss follows up with, “No problem at all. We’re just getting started. Actually, Ryan, Kelley was just about to go over some of the details.”

Ryan eyes me with an intrigued expression. “Great. Can’t wait to hear it.”

Suddenly I can’t remember anything I was about to say. I’m not ready to deal with this thing inside me,
and
him all at the same time, but he’s a friggin’ walking, talking reminder. I didn’t know he had anything to do with this meeting, and to say I’m caught off guard is the understatement of the year. It’s like I think he will somehow know I’m pregnant just by looking at me, but the way he—and everyone else—stares at me obliviously, I realize I have to get it together.

I clear my throat and force myself to focus on the notes in front of me. “Well, as noted in Mr. Jones’ letter of intent, we think
Grind
will offer something new for this location. It’s not another cold, corporate coffee chain, but a neighborhood place with a deep respect for quality. And while independent coffee shops equal twelve billion dollars in annual sales, it’s more than just numbers. Caleb is committed to offering a one-of-a-kind experience that we think people will really respond to. Rather than an impersonal place,
Grind
will be a local institution that will benefit the entire town.”

I smile confidently, making sure to keep my focus on Mr. Andrews rather than the distracting man next to him.

Mr. Andrews looks impressed, and just when I think I’ve got him on the hook, Ryan interjects. “If I may, we have no doubt that Mr. Jones here is proposing a promising idea, but our client does want to make sure that he can get someone to commit for the long haul. He’s asking for at least a five-year lease, which is a big commitment for any new business. We just want to make sure
Grind
is sustainable and won’t be some passing fad.”

He leans back and shrugs with an adorable tilt of his head. The man is good.

Oh my god, he’s a
lawyer
. A good one. Think he’ll try to fight me for custody?

Good god, my hormones are already out of control. What the hell? Focus, Kell. He doesn’t even know about the kid yet—probably won’t want anything to do with it anyway—and he basically just tried to shut you down on this deal.
Smug bastard.

I sit up straighter. “Considering fifty percent of Americans drink an average of two to three cups of coffee per day, suffice it to say I don’t think this is just a fad. Unless you think one hundred and fifty million people are suddenly going to decide to stop caffeinating, I think Caleb is a pretty safe bet. He already has a lot of local support, and, as we noted in the letter, he is more than willing to commit to a five-year lease given there’s no escalation clause.”

I cross my arms casually and give him my own superior look.

Maybe I won’t even tell him I’m pregnant.
Should
I tell him? I guess he maybe sort of has a right to know, even if I don’t expect anything from him . . .

He just smiles, unaffected. “Very true, Ms. Moore. Looks like someone certainly knows how to fight for her client. It’s good to know you believe so strongly in him.” His blue eyes stay trained on me, bright and amused.