by JB Salsbury
Seventeen
Killian
I’m a creepy bastard.
I know I am, and yet, I can’t stop staring at her.
I’ve woken up every couple of hours throughout the night to feel her naked and pressed to me, and each time I was compelled to watch her—just to stare at her face, lips parted, dark lashes fanned against her creamy skin, and all that hair tossed around her face from hours of love-making. She’s beautiful.
I always thought if I were lucky enough to get Axelle naked and in my bed I’d spend all night staring at her gorgeous body, and I’m not gonna lie. I did that too. But the most captivating part of her, which surprised even me, is how her expression softens in sleep. It makes me realize just how much worry she must carry around every day. Like she’s tiptoeing through each day with the fear that one wrong step will have devastating repercussions.
The thought makes my chest ache.
“How long have you been staring at me?”
I rip my gaze from the curve of Axelle’s hip to meet her sparkling blue eyes still swollen from sleep. “You want the truth?”
She reaches forward and puts and X over my heart with the lightest brush of her fingertip. “I only want what you promised.”
I shrug one shoulder and hold off the heat I feel rising in my cheeks. “Off and on for most of the night.”
“Huh.” Her brows drop low.
“You think I’m creepy.”
“No, it’s just…we must’ve been on opposite shifts then because I’ve been up staring at you off and on for most of the night.”
A slow grin pulls at my lips. “No kidding?”
Her hand slips into my hair just above my ear, and her thumb brushes my forehead. “You look so much younger when you sleep.”
I grimace. “That’s not good. Are you sure you don’t mean I look so much studlier when I sleep?”
She pushes up and rolls on top of me, straddling my hips. “Definitely studlier.”
I run both my hands from her hips, brushing the sides of her breasts then settling on her shoulders. “We should eat.”
“We just woke up.”
“It’s ten o’clock.”
Her jaw drops open, and her eyes dart to the clock on the cable box. “Holy shit!”
I push up and over to flip her back to the bed. “I’ll cook.”
With a kiss to her lips, I snag my sweatpants and head to the kitchen to throw together some breakfast. “Eggs and toast okay?”
There’s a rustling of sheets, and I turn to see her snuggled deep into the comforter with her eyes on me. “Yes, are you sure I can’t help?”
I prop my arm on the top of the fridge door. “Depends. You gonna stay naked if you help?”
She grins. “Probably not.”
“Then no.” I pull a carton of eggs, whole-grain bread, and butter from the fridge and get to making breakfast. “You should check your phone. I thought I heard it early this morning.”
“Oh yeah, good idea.” She hops out of bed, and I make it a point to stop what I’m doing, lean back, and enjoy the show as she crosses to her bag and digs out her phone. Once she’s back in bed and covered, I get back to work.
Will I ever get tired of seeing her gorgeous body in my place?
No.
“My mom called twice.” She hits a few buttons and presses the phone to her ear.
I pour two glasses of orange juice.
“Hey, Mom, I saw I missed a couple calls from you?”
I scramble eggs while she answers questions about school, her car, and gives a few “yeahs” to unknown questions. I’m plating eggs and buttering toast when she finally hangs up the phone.
“Everything okay?”
I’m sorry to see her hop out of bed and reach for her sweats and shirt from last night. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She smiles at me, and her eyes widen when she looks at the plate in my hands. “Killian, that’s like a dozen eggs. That’s not for me, is it?”
I reach behind me and grab her plate with only two eggs on it, then set it down on the table. “Oh, that’s better.” She grins, drops into her seat, and looks down at the plate. Her nose scrunches up and she reaches for her juice.
I fork a bite of eggs into my mouth and chew. “What?”
“Oh, um…nothing.” She spears a tiny ball of egg on one fork tine and forces it between her lips. “My mom needs me to babysit Jack today. Blake had some last-minute thing at the training center, and she made a hair appointment. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
“You want me to come?” I shovel more eggs into my mouth.
“Are you kidding? You’d make me the most popular sister in town if you came. Jack loves you. Oh, and we could tell Blake and Mom about us.” She nibbles more eggs.
“You worried about how they’ll react?”
“Not even a little bit. They love you.” She pushes her fork around, rearranging her breakfast.
I nod to her plate. “You become a vegetarian since last night?”
She laughs uncomfortably. “No, it’s just these eggs smell funny.”
I lean over my plate and inhale. “They smell fine to me.”
She purses her lips and sips her juice.
“What time do we have to be at your Mom’s?” I finish the last bite of my eggs and stab at hers.
“Not until one.” Her voice sounds distant, like she’s somewhere else.
I grab her hand and squeeze. “Hey, you want me to make you something else? I have some fruit, or I can make you pancakes.”
She grins, but I can tell she’s fighting revulsion. “No, I guess I’m just not that hungry.”
“You’ve been like this for a few days now. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I’m fine most of the day, but sometimes when I get around food, I get a little nauseated.”
“Maybe you got a bug?”
“That’s probably all it is.” She sips her juice, and I make a mental note to keep an eye on her appetite for the weekend.
I finish her breakfast, and she jumps up to take our plates to the kitchen before I get a chance to. “You’re my guest; you don’t have to clean up.”
She gazes at me from over her shoulder. “You cooked. I’ll clean. That’s the deal.”
I wipe down the counters and dry the dishes she washes. Grabbing the full trash, I tie off the ends. “Why don’t you grab a shower while I take this out.” I press my lips to her forehead. “The second drawer is all yours. I put the few things you had here in there; hope that’s okay.”
“That’s sweet of you, Kill. Thanks.” I watch until she disappears into the bathroom and snag my keys before taking out the trash.
Locking her inside my place while I’m gone for two minutes might be crossing the line from protective to psycho over the top, but now that I have her, I’m not risking losing her to anything.
~*~
Axelle
I shut the bathroom door behind me, and now that I’m safe behind the closed door, I grip my stomach.
It took everything I had to remain casual when the truth was, once the smell of cooking eggs hit my nose, I was fighting throwing up. I’m sure I have some stupid stomach bug. I guess I should be happy that the only symptoms so far are a lack of appetite and a little nausea.
I strip off my clothes and turn the shower on hot. My body is sensitive, and if I’m being honest a little sore from last night. The hot water will do wonders to loosen up my tight muscles and hopefully to drown out the smell of scrambled egg.
My throat floods with saliva, and I hold my fingers over my lips and breathe through my nose. What the hell?
Once under the hot spray I feel a little better. I wash my hair, my body, shave with Killian’s kick-ass razor—seriously, why is it that they make men’s razors so much more effective than women’s?
I linger a little longer even after I’m finished until I’m finally feeling back to normal. Turning the spray off, I push out and wrap up in a towel. The m
irror is fogged, but I can see the pink glow on my cheeks. Whether it’s from last night or the hot shower, I don’t know. My guess is a combination of the two.
Reaching for the second drawer, I grin when I find all my things divided into sections of a cool plastic divider tray. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, there are even cotton balls and Q-tips. I grin when I see a special square filled with black ponytail holders. He stocked up just for me.
Something in the back of the drawer catches my eye. I lean down and see several brands, boxes, and packages of tampons and pads. He kept all those from last month? I cover my mouth to muffle a laugh. He’s way too good to me.
I grab my toothbrush and get to work on my teeth. That night after Clifford’s birthday, if I’d only known— My hand freezes. Clifford’s birthday.
January 11th.
Foam drips from the corner of my mouth.
Today is February 16th.
I yank open the drawer and stare at the boxes in the back as if they hold the answers I’m looking for.
Over a month ago.
I should’ve had a period by now.
I drop my toothbrush into the sink and do a quick count on my fingers. No, that can’t be right. I count again. And again. Then one more time to be sure.
Oh my God.
I’m pregnant.
Eighteen
Killian
I’ve cleaned my entire studio apartment, which isn’t saying much since the place is the size of a matchbox.
I stare at the bathroom door, wondering why the shower turned off over thirty minutes ago and she still hasn’t emerged.
I’ve heard women take a long time to get ready. I’m sure that’s all it is.
I study her bag on the floor. She doesn’t have her clothes in there, so what could she possibly be doing?
As much as I want to bang on the door and check on her, I resolve not to scare her away with my incessant badgering. It was bad enough that I couldn’t leave her alone about the eggs. If I’m not smart, I could easily push her away by loving her too much.
I drop back to the bed and scroll through my phone, returning text messages and checking email.
After several minutes, the bathroom door swings open and Axelle comes out. She’s clutching her towel at her chest so tightly her knuckles are strained, and her hair is wet and un-brushed with a few strands around her face already air dry. She stares at me blankly, and it’s then I notice how pale she is. And she’s shivering.
I launch off the bed and cup her face. “Shit, you’re freezing.” I run my hands over her shoulders and down her arms; her skin is like ice beneath my touch. “What the fuck is going on?” I vacillate between covering her with my body to keep her warm and standing back to run my hands over every inch of her, checking for injury. Her teeth chatter as I walk her to the bed. I pull the comforter back, crawl under it, and toss her wet towel aside before pulling her to my chest. She burrows into me, absorbing my warmth, and I tuck the blankets in tight around us.
She’s so cold her skin burns against mine.
“Talk to me, Ax.” She trembles with full body shivers, and I rub her back, trying to get her to calm down. “Breathe, baby.”
She takes long full breaths, and slowly her shivering fades. Her body warms enough that her muscles relax, but only minutely.
“Axelle, I’m not gonna lie. I’m freakin’ out here.” I speak against the top of her head. “What happened?”
She sniffs and her shoulders jump in my arms.
She’s crying.
Fuck!
This is the strongest woman I know. I’ve been to hell with her several times and rarely seen her cry. Whatever happened between the time she went into that bathroom ’til now is big enough to bring her to her emotional knees.
And the selfish part of me is praying to God this has nothing to do with me.
“Shh…it’s okay. Whatever this is, it’ll be okay.”
She sobs and shakes her head. “No…it…won’t.”
“What happened?” I kiss her head and hold her tighter. “Talk to me, baby.”
She calms and hiccups; the moisture from her tears soak my chest and slide down my ribs to the sheet. “I’m afraid to tell you.”
“No, baby. You never have to be afraid to tell me anything. I love you.”
“That’s why I’m afraid. When I tell you, you won’t love me anymore.”
“Impossible. I’ve loved you for four years. Nothing will change that.” I pull back just enough to see her face, and the sight shreds through me. “What is it?”
She tilts her head back, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m—”
“What?” My stomach plummets at what I think might be coming. Please, God…no. “You’re what, Axelle?” The question comes out harsher than I intend.
She coughs and her face twists with emotion. “Pregnant.”
I’m gone. It’s as if the single word drop-kicked my mind from my body. My arms close in around her, and she bursts into sobs once again. I can hear her, feel her body shaking and the heat of her tears, but inside I’m numb.
Because I’ve taken enough sex-ed classes to know that Axelle’s not pregnant with my baby.
She’s pregnant with Clifford’s.
“I wasn’t paying attention.” She continues to cry. “I was so busy I didn’t…” More tears. “Then I got sick on Valentine’s Day, but I thought it was stress.”
She blabs on and on, and all I can do is hold her tight as if I’m physically holding us together because I’m fucking dying, thinking these could be the last few moments we’ll have together.
“I need to take a pregnancy test to be sure.”
“What?” Even my own voice sounds like it’s coming from another room.
“I could be wrong.”
“So, you’re saying you might not be pregnant with that sorry son of a bitch’s baby?”
She shrinks away at the anger in my voice, but fuck it! I’m angry. I go back and forth between my instinct to comfort her and the urge to shake her until her head pops off. What the fuck did she think would happen? And how could she fuck that guy without protection? The thought alone makes me fucking homicidal. I shove my hand through my hair and focus on my breathing.
“I need to take a test to be sure—”
I jerk free of her and make sure she’s covered and tucked in before heading across the room. “Give me ten minutes. We’ll swing by the drugstore on our way to your mom’s.” I slam the bathroom door behind me, not waiting for her reply.
I stare at myself in the mirror and can see the barely contained rage that ripples through my muscles. Wouldn’t that be just my luck that when I finally get everything I ever asked for it all falls to shit.
~*~
Axelle
We’re five minutes late pulling up to my mom’s house. I grab my backpack, which is not only holding a couple of textbooks, but now a brown paper bag filled with three pregnancy tests. Killian wanted me to get five, but I assured him that three would be enough. Not to mention they’re expensive and cost me my lunch budget for the week.
Killian slides from the Jeep without looking at me. He’s hardly looked at me at all since I broke down in his arms. I was hoping he’d react in his typical way, assuring me everything would be okay and swearing he’d stand by me through it all.
Instead, he’s basically ignoring me. Sure he answers direct questions, but other than that, he’s been a robot.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and see him waiting for me at the hood of the car. When we get to the door, he places his palm on the small of my back. It’s a barely-there show of support, but I exhale and relax a little because of it.
Opening the door, I can immediately hear Jack throwing a fit.
“Mom?”
“We’re in the kitchen!”
I lead the way in to find Jack squirming in his highchair and my mom wiping something off the front of her shirt.
“Hey, guys.” S
he crosses to us, giving me a hug and then moving to Killian. “Jack, look who’s here,” she says in an over animated voice. “It’s Killian, see?”
Jack’s bright red face fades to a light pink, and he grins, flashing all his teeth even while tears still fall from his chubby cheeks. “Illie!” He holds his baby arms up.
“Aw, buddy…” Killian crosses to my baby brother. “Are you giving your mom a hard time?” He reaches for the latches on the highchair as my mom swoops in and wipes the last bit of food from his hands and face. He pulls my brother into his arms and Jack grabs at Killian’s lips. I stand back as he blows raspberries into Jack’s neck, and the sweetness of it all makes my eyes hot.
“Crap!” My mom scurries to the sink to wash her hands. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”
I suck back the crazy emotions swirling through my chest as she comes to hug me good-bye.
Her eyes narrow. “Axelle, are you feeling okay?” She presses the back of her hand to my cheek. “You sick?”
Killian ducks out of the kitchen with Jack, but I don’t miss the glare he points in my direction before he goes.
“I’m fine. Just fighting a stomach bug.”
“Oh, no.” She pulls me in for a hug. “There’s some saltine crackers in the pantry and there should be some ginger ale in there too.”
“Thanks, I’ll give that a try.” I drop my bag on the floor and move toward the pantry for show.
“Thanks for helping her out, Killian!” She calls out as she ducks into the garage, the door closing behind her.
He doesn’t answer her. Guess it’s not only me he’s ignoring.
I pull a cup down from the cupboard and fill it with water, downing the liquid as fast as I can before filling another.
I made sure to drink a water before leaving Killian’s, and I grabbed another small bottle from the drugstore, so I’m already feeling the pressure to pee. I grab the bag from my backpack and move through the living room to the hallway where the guest bathroom is. I stop for a moment and Killian looks up from playing with my brother. Our gazes meet in an explosion of apologies and whispers of hope.
