He still doesn’t look convinced that this is a problem, so I know I have to give him an example. “When I was in third grade I had a friend over and my mom started asking us about which boys in class we thought were cute, which turned into a mortifying hour long conversation about sex, complete with a visual demonstration using some of my dolls. My dad overheard and they started debating which positions were best ‘for her pleasure.’ We were fucking eight years old, Ryan!” I shudder at the memory. Needless to say that friend was never allowed back at my house after that. No wonder I moved two hours away from them . . .
Ryan looks like he’s about to burst. “Is that why you waited so long to give it up?” He attempts to contain his laughter, but can’t.
I lightly shove his arm. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” I knew I’d regret telling him the truth about my pathetic sex life.
I get up to leave but he grabs my arm. “Come on, Brooks. You have to admit it’s pretty ironic. I grew up without any sort of openness or affection and turned into a man-whore while you were smothered with it and basically strapped on a fucking chastity belt.” He tries to catch his breath in between chuckles.
“Yeah, fucking hilarious,” I reply dryly. I fail to see why my childhood humiliation is so entertaining to him.
I stalk to the bedroom and hear him call out, “Hey, maybe they can give us a few pointers when they visit.” That makes him laugh even harder.
Ok, maybe that’s a little funny. But I refuse to let him know that, so I respond by calling out, “I hate you,” before collapsing onto the bed with my arm draped over my face.
The next week I’m pacing around the apartment like some type of madwoman. My parents are due to arrive any minute. I haven’t seen them in eight months and I’m dreading what might happen when they meet Ryan. They know about the baby and the engagement, but I didn’t go into much detail. I feel bad for not always returning my mother’s phone calls, but she asks too many questions. Questions I’m not ready to answer.
Ryan is sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the tv. “Brooks, if you don’t sit still you’re going to wiggle that kid right out of you.”
“Good. At least if I go into labor we’ll get out of doing this today. Might be the perfect plan.” I pace faster.
“Yeah, and I’m sure only letting the baby cook for six months is a great plan, too.” He grunts.
“Shut up.” I don’t need his sarcasm right now. I’m too busy thinking of an exit strategy.
I love my parents, I really do. And I know I’m lucky they care so much, especially after meeting Ryan’s monster of a mother. But they know me better than anyone and I’m afraid they will take one look at Ryan and me together and know it’s all a complete sham. They’ve only seen me with one man in my life—the man I thought was going to make all of my dreams come true but turned into a nightmare instead—and I really don’t want to disappoint them again. They’ve only ever wanted me to be happy, and as much as I want that for myself, I want it so they can stop worrying about me, too. Neither of my parents have any boundaries, and I can see our web of lies quickly unraveling with their prying. The worst part? I can totally see Ryan and them getting along.
A knock has me stopping dead in my tracks. When I make no move to answer it, Ryan clicks off the tv and chuckles as he makes his way past me to open the door himself.
My mother immediately wraps Ryan in a huge hug and kisses his cheeks, her red lips—that accent her medium length reddish-brown hair—leave behind a clear mark. It’s almost comical to see her short, petite stature overpowering his tall, muscular one. “You must be my handsome soon-to-be son-in-law.” She holds onto his shoulders and studies him before looking to me. “He’s just as hot as you said he was.”
Ryan gets a big shit-eating grin before my father squeezes his way in, grumbling “My turn, let me at him.” My dad, about the same build and only a few inches shorter, reaches to shake Ryan’s hand, simultaneously clapping him on the back. “Hey, son. So you’re the one that knocked up my little princess, eh. Well good to meet ya. How they hangin’?”
I have to resist a literal face-palm.
My mother comes over to me and looks like she’s about to cry when she pats my growing stomach. “Oh sweetie, I am so happy for you.” She leans in for a hug, smelling of the same Jean Nate perfume she always wears. “Your breasts are huge. Hal, aren’t they huge. Are they tender? You should try a heating pad or a warm bath.” I blush at her unfiltered, albeit sweet, concern over my boobs.
I hug my dad next, smiling when he gently taps the tip of my nose, just like he’s done my entire life. His short, salt and pepper hair looks a little lighter than I remember seeing last, but his gray eyes and round, red cheeks are the exact same—warm and welcoming. “Hey, kid. Where’s the bathroom? I’ve gotta piss like a racehorse.” I try not to wince as I point to the door down the hall.
It’s only been two seconds and, true to form, they’re already embarrassing the crap out of me.
As my mother makes herself right at home and heads to the living room, I catch Ryan looking at me with amusement.
“What?” I cringe, feeling self-conscious as to how crazy he must think my parents are . . . and me by association.
Thankfully he laughs as he drapes his arm around me and leads us to the couch. “I like them. Now I see where you get your bluntness from.” A playful spark lights up his eyes, making me feel a tiny bit of relief.
After my father returns from the bathroom we all sit on the couch and catch up.
My mother wastes no time turning to Ryan. “So, tell me . . . what exactly is wrong with you?”
Ryan looks completely caught off guard. “Wrong with me?”
“Are you married?”
Ryan looks uncertainly at me as sweat forms on his brow. “Huh?”
“Do you have any weird fetishes? Are you a drug addict? A criminal? Secretly gay?”
I’ve never seen Ryan look so completely baffled and nervous. “No . . . Wait, what? No!”
My mom laughs lightly and slaps him playfully on the knee. “Aww calm down, sweetie. I’m just trying to figure out why on earth my daughter felt the need to keep you such a secret for so long. She never mentioned you and then all of a sudden, wham!, you’re engaged and having a baby.” She holds her hands up in front of her, palms facing out. “I’m not judging, just curious.”
Ryan visibly relaxes while I cut in. “Mom, I told you. We knew each other for a while, as friends, and then things between us just grew pretty fast.”
I smile at Ryan, trying to convey a silent apology for this entire thing. He smiles back sympathetically before jumping in. “Yeah, Mrs. Brooks. I’m afraid a lot of that’s my fault. After getting to know Kelley better I just looked at her one day and knew she was something special. It took me some time to get up the courage to let her know, and hell, sometimes I still don’t think I do a good enough job of that. I wasted too much time not showing her how much she means to me, so once we decided to give things a shot, I’ve been selfish in keeping her all to myself.”
I know he’s just saying all of this to keep up with our story, but his eyes never leave mine as he says it, causing my heart to beat faster.
My mom’s sniffling breaks our trance. “Oh well if that isn’t just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Hal, did you hear that?”
“There she goes with the waterworks . . . that’s how you know you’ve won her over.” My dad chuckles before focusing on Ryan, shrugging easily. “As long as you make my little girl happy, you’re ok in my book, too. ”
My mom takes a deep breath. “All right, enough of this mushy stuff. Tell me, how’s my grandson doing? What about any wedding plans?” She looks excitedly between us.
“He’s good, mom. The doctor says he’s healthy and everything is on schedule.” I rub my stomach, leaning back into the couch. “And we haven’t talked much about the wedding. We’ll deal with that sometime after he’s born.” I chew my lip, hoping I come off sounding nonchala
nt rather than nervous.
My dad leans toward Ryan. “If you want my opinion, all of that wedding hoopla nonsense is a big load of crap.” Ryan and I both look to him, unsure where he’s going with this. “What? If you love someone and want to marry her, you should just do it. No need to waste all your time and money planning a celebration for other people. Wedding favors? What a bunch of bullshit. Why do I need to give you a gift for coming to celebrate me and the love of my life?” He shakes his head. “Nah, just elope and let it be about the two of you—the only people who matter. And I’m not just saying that since I’m supposed to foot the bill.” He winks and nudges Ryan with his elbow.
Ryan laughs. “I couldn’t agree more.”
My dad looks amused and impressed. “I knew I liked you.”
I chuckle nervously. I always pictured having a big, fairytale wedding, but since there will never be any wedding, big or small, it’s not worth arguing. I prefer the whole topic be dropped.
Thankfully my dad changes the subject and the rest of the afternoon is spent talking about anything but our pretend nuptials. We talk about my mom’s book club, my dad’s job as a grocery store manger, and what my aunts and uncles have been up to. Apparently everybody asks about me. My mom and I make dinner, and she helps me with the dishes as Ryan and my dad bond over some sports channel.
“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
If 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
“You better not be showing me some creepy secret sex dungeon or something, Blake. I mean it.�
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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
Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) Page 12
