Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2)

by Jessica Huizenga

  She hangs her head, looking ashamed. “No. Not exactly.”

  Jesus, this is like pulling fucking teeth. “Is it why you and your ex broke up?” A disgusting thought flashes through my mind. “Did he fucking hurt you?”

  She looks at me, no doubt surprised by my lack of tact. But some sick feeling in the pit of my stomach has it twisting in knots, so I need to know what happened. I don’t know if it’s because I actually like this chick as a friend, or because I just saw my kid in her uterus, but I am overcome with such a fierce sense of protectiveness I’m ready to beat the ever living shit out of anyone that’s touched her. Thankfully she relieves my worst fears. “No, Jake never hurt me. Not physically, anyway. He and I were over long before the baby; I just didn’t want to admit it. He wasn’t right for me and I knew it. Fate knew it, too.”

  She whispers that last part and I want to shake her. What the fuck does fate have to do with it? Does she really believe she was being punished or some shit? “You really believe fate had any goddamn say in what happened?”

  She shrugs. “I’m just saying I wasn’t honest with myself—or Jake—about our relationship back then and everything went to hell. I know I’m never going to make that mistake again, which is why I want us to know where we stand with each other.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that, so we’re both quiet again before Kelley stands up straighter and clears her throat. “I’ve been thinking about what we should do, and I don’t think we have to tell anyone you’re the father.”

  Back to this. I fix her with a hard stare. “I thought I made it clear I’m not going anywhere.”

  She looks uncharacteristically nervous and refuses to make eye contact. “I’m not saying you can’t be involved somehow, I’m just saying other people don’t have to know about it.”

  “I’m not going to keep the fact that this baby is mine a big fucking secret. Weren’t you the one just talking about being honest?” I can’t help but let my past experiences with lies and abandonment and keeping shit hidden get the better of me. I’m not the type of guy to shirk his responsibilities, but even I didn’t expect to feel such an innate sense of pride as soon as I saw that tiny blob on the screen. I may not know how to be a father, but I’m sure as hell going to try and figure it out.

  Kelley regains her composure. “I’m just saying it might look bad—for both of us—if we admit we let this happen. I’m not thrilled about people knowing I’m pregnant to begin with, let alone who I screwed. It’s not so much a lie as keeping our business private.” When I refuse to break our gaze, she shrugs, defeated. “Come on Ry, you have to know what people will say about me if they knew. Everyone knows you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t do commitments or relationships so I’ll just end up looking pathetic. I mean I’ve already ruined my shot at finding love anytime soon, but if I have any sort of hope for a future husband I don’t want to have to explain I was stupid enough to get pregnant from a one night stand with the town’s most unavailable bachelor. And I don’t want our kid to grow up confused or teased, either. Since we’re not together, it will be easier to keep our lives separate.”

  She looks sad and embarrassed, and fuck, it makes me feel like a complete and utter jackass. I know how hard I’ve worked to be open and clear about my relationships—or my intentional rejection of them—but Kelley shouldn’t have to suffer because of that. If we keep this a secret I might get off easy, but she can’t exactly hide her condition forever. She’s not the kind of girl to act irresponsibly, and it’s partially my fault for convincing her to loosen up in the first place.

  Plus the thought of any other guy near her—near my kid—makes me feel a very fucking strange sense of jealousy.

  Lucas’ words about doing the right thing collide with the memory of my dad walking out, and before I have time to think I blurt, “What if we tell people we’re engaged?” As soon as the words come out I wish I could take them right fucking back. Shit! Blake, you are a stupid fucking asshole.

  She looks as stunned as I feel at hearing the words explode like a fucking bomb from my mouth.

  “What?” she asks, genuinely confused.

  I shrug as if it’s the easiest, most logical thing in the world, not letting on how much I doubt the shit I’m about to spew. “If we tell people we’re together, it won’t appear so reckless.”

  She contemplates this before slowly clarifying. “So you’re saying we should pretend we’re getting married and that’s why we’re having this baby? What was that about not wanting to lie?”

  Now she sounds amused, and maybe somewhat intrigued. I smirk, despite feeling like a hypocritical douchebag. I’m sure as fuck not thrilled about lying, but at this point it seems like the best way to protect us all. I can already feel the fucking judgment of everyone thinking I’m just a deadbeat like my father who abandons his kid, nevermind the hell there’d be to pay if my mother knew I got a girl I barely know pregnant. Clearly she has a sore spot when it comes to irresponsible men who walk away from their problems. Forget the fact I’ve turned my life around and made something of myself—this would be all it takes for her to assume I’m just an asshole like my dad. Like father, like son, right? The fact I still even care one tiny bit about what that woman thinks makes me want to put my fist through a wall. The irony that I’m going to be just like her, lying to keep up appearances to gain the approval of others, is not lost on me. Except I’m doing this to protect my child, not to ignore it. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Besides, like you said it’s our business, so what the fuck does it matter if we decide to keep the truth to ourselves? This is about doing what’s right for us and the baby and it’s nobody else’s goddamn business.”

  Kelley shakes her head. “You’re crazy, you know that. We already drive each other mad. And what happens down the road? I mean eventually the truth will have to come out.”

  I know she’s right, but I can tell the idea appeals to her. Hell, I’m not sure how it will all work, but I know I refuse to come off as a dick abandoning his kid and I also know I don’t want Kelley to go through this alone. If this will keep us both from looking careless, it’s a win-win.

  I lean against the counter, trying to explain. “Look, we might be coming at this for different reasons, but the fact remains that neither of us wants to look irresponsible. I don’t want to come off as a douche just as much as you don’t want to come off as a slut. Plus you’re probably going to need help over the next few months, so we’ll just tell people we fell madly in love, are getting married, and starting a big happy friggin’ family. It will buy us some time to figure our shit out and after the baby is born and things settle we can stage a breakup. We’ll say it didn’t work out, but by that point we’ll have established we were at least serious about each other when this happened so it won’t seem so bad. Then I can still be in our kid’s life without any questions.” I nod confidently, trying to convey how rational this can be.

  Kelley mulls that over before lighting up with a taunting smirk. “You know this would mean you can’t have sex for over nine months, right?”

  OK, maybe this is a worse idea than I thought . . .

  Refusing to give in, I shoot her my own cocky smile. “Well since you’re my fiancèe and all, I think we could work something out.” I wink suggestively.

  She shakes her head in disgust, but I notice her cheeks blush.

  I can’t resist riling her up. I experience some sort of sick pleasure when she gets fiery on me. “What? I’ve always used a condom and get tested regularly if that’s what you’re worried about.” She rolls her eyes so I raise my eyebrow and add, “Hey, my junk is clean and you’re already pregnant, so what else can happen?”

  That actually makes her laugh, and I’m relieved to see her visibly relax.

  The fact I’m sort of comfortable with the idea of pretending to be together makes me pause. I mean I’m about to tread in some pretty dangerous waters getting involved with such a big commitment, even if it is fake. Then again, th
is woman is carrying my child. It’s justifiable I feel a primal need to protect her and make us both feel at ease. It doesn’t have to mean anything more. Again, as long as we each know the deal going in, it should be easy.

  Because that worked out so well the last time, didn’t it, asshole?

  Kelley gets serious. “If we’re really going to do this we have to set some rules. We have to make this seem real if anyone is going to buy it.”

  I cross my arms. “Agreed.”

  “First, I’m serious about the no sex thing. I mean it, Blake. It would be beyond mortifying if someone thought you were cheating on me. A fake relationship is bad enough, but a fake betrayal would be the ultimate embarrassment. If there’s a chance of that happening there is no point starting this.”

  I want to make a joke, but the look on her face tells me it wouldn't be funny. “I can be discreet.”

  She shakes her head. “Forget it. See, we’re already in trouble. This whole idea is ridiculous.”

  She throws her arms up in defeat as she leaves the kitchen. I drop my head and put my hands in my pockets. I feel the edge of the small photo the doctor handed me, and instantly feel like a tool. I want to help her—help our child—and here I am, too selfish to give up sex for a few months. That’s what got us in this mess to begin with, so I fucking should be celibate for a while.

  I follow Kelley into the adjacent living room. She’s laying with her arm over her eyes.

  I sit on the back of the couch and let out a big sigh. “Fine. No sex.”

  She peeks out from under her arm, eyeing me doubtfully. “I refuse to be a burden, Ry. I don’t want to change or ruin your life. This has to be completely mutual if it has any chance of working. I can justify lying to everyone else for the sake of our child, but we have to promise to at least be honest with each other.”

  She’s just being real, which I respect. “This was my idea, remember? If us pretending to be together is best for our kid right now, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re going to need help and I can certainly abstain for a few months. No biggie.” Right?

  She doesn’t look convinced, so I know I need a way to prove I’m taking this seriously—to prove I’m not going anywhere. “In fact, you should move in with me.”

  If she looked confused before, now she looks downright baffled. Maybe even scared. “Me? Live with you?”

  Good point. Fuck!

  “We want this to be convincing, right?” I swallow down my own reservations, knowing if I take it back now I really am a dick. “Plus with our work schedules it will be easier to live in one place. And mine is bigger so it just makes sense.” It’s practical more than anything.

  She can’t argue with that. “Fine.” She sighs and I smirk, feeling victorious for winning this debate, no matter how fucked up it might be. She stands up and heads for the kitchen.

  Before she rounds the corner she turns around and calls over her shoulder, “But I get the bed. You’re sleeping on the couch, buddy.”

  My smile fades.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  Kelley

  Nine Weeks

  The Friday after Ryan and I come up with our crazy scheme, I pack a few bags after work and he’s driving me to “officially” move into his apartment. I was definitely skeptical about this whole thing at first, but Ryan did make some valid points, even if I think he’s doing it to save his own ass more than anything. As much as it goes against my idea of true love, in the end pretending to be together is the only way for us to get out of this without seeming completely careless. I realize the risk in getting too close when my emotions are going haywire as it is, but the selfish side of me really just wants someone around . . . even if it is Ryan Blake. Truthfully, I’m scared of being pregnant and alone. I can deal with the type of loneliness that forms while waiting for the right guy to come along, but bringing a kid into the picture by myself? I worry about something happening to the baby again, which sends me further into a panic. I push the thought from my mind.

  It doesn’t help that all week I’ve been having crazy ass intense dreams where I’m either held captive or drowning or being attacked and Ryan comes galloping in to save me, quite literally, on a white horse. I reassure myself that this situation has nothing to do with needing to be rescued—it’s simply about doing what makes the most sense for our baby. Besides, how seriously can I take a dream where the villain has condoms for limbs?

  Stupid pregnant hormones.

  Ryan pulls his truck into the gated parking garage of an upscale apartment complex. Most lawyers I know tend to be well off, and Ryan is clearly no exception. He opens my door and helps me down before grabbing two of my suitcases. He grunts as he carries them, leading me inside the building. “Jesus, Brooks. What the hell do you have in here, bowling balls?”

  I shrug innocently as we enter the lobby. A burly, bald man in a dark suit and tie is stationed by the front door, looking stern. When he sees Ryan a boyish smile transforms his ebony face. Ryan puts my bags down and grasps one of the man’s big hands. They do that one-arm hug thing guys do as they slap each other’s backs.

  “B-man, how they hangin’?” The man punches Ryan playfully.

  “Big D—everything’s good. Did you have a nice vacation?” Ryan asks in return.

  I try not to giggle at their nicknames before “Big D” notices me. “And who is this?” he asks, genuinely curious and obviously surprised.

  Ryan looks at me hesitantly, but only for a second before he moves to my side and puts his arm tightly around me. “Darrin, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Kelley. Kelley, this is Darrin, head honcho in charge of security. It’s his job to keep the crazies out.”

  I try to look lovingly at Ryan and wrap my arm around his waist. I can feel his strong, muscular frame beneath his shirt so my lust isn’t exactly hard to fake.

  If Darrin isn’t convinced about us as a couple, he’s too polite to show it. He grabs my hand while saying, “Well, well. Look who finally got this guy to settle down. I’ve known him for eight years and I always wondered when he would find a girl special enough to let upstairs.”

  I’m puzzled by Darrin’s odd comment, but before he can elaborate Ryan interjects. “Darrin, since Kelley is moving in with me I’m going to need another key for her. She also has a red Honda that will need access to the garage. I know you’ll hook us up.” Ryan claps Darrin’s arm in a way that indicates there is no need for further discussion. At least I assume that’s what the strange look that passes between them is about. Darrin says he’ll take care of it as Ryan thanks him and grabs my things. He gestures toward the elevators and I follow him over. When the doors ding open we both step inside. Ryan pushes a button and the metal slides closed.

  I stare at Ryan curiously before asking, “What did Darrin mean about you finally letting someone upstairs?”

  His right shoulder bobs up and down. “Who knows. Probably just making small talk. He’s a good guy. If you ever need anything when I’m not here, you can count on him.”

  When we get up to the fifth floor, Ryan unlocks the door labeled E4.

  Based on the lobby alone I should have expected the apartment to be impressive, but my jaw drops when I walk inside.

  To the left is a galley style kitchen with dark cherry wood cabinets and black granite countertops. A bar height counter flanks the right, with a few stools on the opposite side. Directly ahead is a spacious living room with a ginormous L shaped leather couch and matching recliner. A big, dark wooden coffee table is in the center of the room. A huge flat screen tv is mounted on the wall. Behind the couch is a dining area, consisting of a black table and six matching chairs. Ryan points to the left beyond the kitchen, indicating a short hallway leading to the bedroom, which he says also includes a walk-in closet and master bath. He points to the hallway off to the right, noting that’s where the guest bathroom is.

  I follow him around, taking a quick peek at everything as he gives the short tour. While there aren’t a ton of
rooms, the place feels huge and open. It’s minimalist in style, but oddly comfortable. My apartment is filled to the brim with pictures and books and souvenirs. I think the more stuff I have to remind me of the places I’ve been and people I’ve known, the more it feels like home. Funnily enough, Ryan’s place has virtually none of these things, but still feels safe and cozy.

  I notice a doorway at the very end of the hall past the guest bath.

  “What’s in there?” I nod toward the half-closed door.

  “That’s my office. I’m pretty obsessive about my workspace so I usually keep it closed off.” He pushes the door open so I can peek inside. I see a big, expensive looking desk and a dark red tufted leather office chair. Framed certificates and awards are placed perfectly on the walls, a bookshelf filled with pictures, knick-knacks, and trophies sits opposite the desk. It’s obvious this is the only room Ryan puts all of his personal touches on so it must mean a lot to him.

  “You’re welcome to do whatever to the rest of this place, but this room is off limits. I need some sort of manly sanctuary if you’re going to start burning incense and hanging pink fuzzy curtains or whatever other girly shit you have planned.” He closes the door and steers me back to the bedroom, placing my suitcases in the corner of the room. “I cleared some space in the closet for you. I’ll sleep on the couch so you can have the bed, as promised.”

  I run my finger along the white down comforter lining the king sized bed. I plop down, stretching out my arms. “Considering your couch is about as big as this bed, I don’t feel sorry about it.”

  He chuckles as he grabs something from one of the bedside table drawers. “I thought you should wear this. You know, to make our story believable.”

  He holds a small, shiny object between his fingers. I stare at the diamond ring, then at his face. He looks like his usual, mellow, unaffected self.

  I’ve pictured being proposed to many times in my life, but never was it as unceremonious as this. I know it’s not real, but I can’t help but feel sad about it.