Recklessly Ever After

by Heather Van Fleet

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She fell off a hoop game, trying to make a basket. It happened so quickly. Max and I were kissing and—”

  “Kissing?” I quirked a brow, confused.

  Her face paled. “I, um, yeah…”

  I nodded, eyes narrowing a bit. If she and Max were together, I had to wonder if this was a secret they’d be taking to the grave. As far as I knew, this wasn’t something anyone else was aware of.

  “I’m not judging, Lia. Accidents happen all the time. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay. Max is a bit shaken up, but I’m good now. Better.”

  “Other than Dr. Wonderful, you mean?” I rolled my eyes.

  Lia snorted—as did the X-ray tech—then bit down on her lip as she turned to look at Chloe again. The little girl was sniffling and crying as they moved her to the seat, but never once fought the tech as she adjusted Chloe’s little arm one way and another to get the right angle for the shot.

  “Are you pregnant?” the tech asked Lia, who quickly shook her head no.

  The lady looked at me next, the same question on her tongue. “Oh, uh, I have to get something across the hall,” I lied. “I’ll wait for you outside the room.”

  Not bothering to look my way, Lia said, “Okay.” And I left to stand in the hall outside of the room.

  Across from me on a tiny love seat was a couple waiting outside the ultrasound room. The man’s hands were on both sides of the woman’s stomach, while he put his mouth against the baby bump and silently spoke to it under his breath.

  They were smiling. So…happy and accepting of what they’d created. The guy pressed his palm over the middle of the woman’s stomach next, the move so natural I struggled to look away. The lady set her hand over the back of his knuckles, telling him to hold still, that if he moved he wouldn’t be able to feel it kick.

  My throat grew tight at the view, and tears burned in my eyes. There was so much to love about that beautiful moment, yet none of that would be for me.

  Was it wrong of me to not want this baby—this child that was half Gavin’s, half mine? Was I a bad person to feel zero connection to it? Granted it was a tiny, minuscule blip, but it had a heart, one I helped to create. Still, nothing about that idea made me tingle like an expectant mother should when thinking of her unborn child. Instead, all I could see were the ways I’d screw a child up. How my mother would tell me I told you so.

  Maybe Gavin would be a great father. Or maybe, like me, he didn’t want kids either. I’d seen him with Chloe, though, seen the love in his eyes when he held her. But did that mean he wanted to have a child of his own? There again, what if he did want that? Would he hate me because I didn’t? Or would he want this baby and offer to raise it without me?

  My stomach churned as countless thoughts ran through my mind.

  Kids were forever, a responsibility there was no escape from. I could barely take care of myself, let alone a tiny person. In the end, this baby would be coming in a little over eight months. Only time would tell whether I was strong enough to be the person a baby would need.

  First, though, I needed to tell Gavin.

  Chapter 12

  Gavin

  My hands were shaking as I pushed away from the laptop. This night was turning into an all-out fucking disaster. Not only had I just gotten the call about Chloe breaking her arm, but I’d received an email from the county saying my permit hadn’t been updated when I started work on the innards of the house. Now, I had to pay fines out my ass before I could work on it again.

  Not wanting to waste another second, I ran next door to grab the things Chloe needed at the hospital—most importantly, her favorite blanket—and took off. Max was a damn wreck on the phone, but finding him outside Chloe’s hospital room, head pressed against the wall, cussing, was the last thing I’d expected from my normally joking best friend.

  My boots thudded to a stop next to him. He didn’t look up when I said, “She’ll be all right.” I patted him on the shoulder, taken back to the last time I’d tried to comfort another man: Collin after he’d learned about Chloe’s mom dying in a car accident while we were stationed in the Middle East.

  “I fucked up, man.”

  I shrugged, finally meeting his eyes. “It happens.”

  “No…” He paused. “I mean, I really fucked up. A lot. Me and Lia, we got distracted…”

  My eyebrows rose. “How so?” Though I was pretty sure I already knew. This morning, I’d learned how serious he was about our best friend’s little sister when I found her in only a T-shirt inside his apartment.

  He leaned his back against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just…I wasn’t paying attention. Couldn’t stop kissing Lee-Lee and…” He shrugged.

  “What are you more worried about?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. “Colly finding out about you and Lia, or Colly going off about Chloe getting hurt?”

  When he looked away, I knew the answer. Hooking up with your best friend’s little sister was bad, yeah, but being on watch while your best friend’s daughter broke her arm? That was ten times worse.

  We went into Chloe’s hospital room after a while. Lia was snoring away on the bed, holding Chloe asleep against her chest. A tiny, purple cast covered the little girl’s arm, and I had to look away because seeing her hurt made my throat go tight.

  “We’re gonna stay the night,” Max said. “Lia and I don’t wanna take her home, not knowing what to do if she wakes up screaming. They offered, so we said yes.”

  I nodded, not blaming him. If Collin were here, there’s no doubt she’d be home, but Max and Lia and I never took chances with this little girl.

  “Where are Colly’s parents?” I asked.

  He winced. “On their way.”

  More than anything, I wanted to hold Beaner close like Lia was, while promising to never let anything hurt her again. But I was almost positive that if I did, Max would’ve fallen over the edge of guilt-insanity he was teetering on. Things might have been different if the two of them had paid better attention, yeah, but it could’ve happened to anyone. There’d be no blame cast.

  I sat on the edge of the bed for a little longer, just talking to Max, pretending it wasn’t weird when he’d go over and rub his fingers across Lia’s head, or lean down and kiss her every couple of minutes. I’d witnessed a change in the guy lately. And even before the truth about him and Lia was out, I’d known whatever they had going on had become their new normal.

  “When’s Colly coming home?”

  Max shrugged. “Tomorrow sometime. He can’t get a flight out until then.”

  I yawned and looked down at my cell phone. It was almost five thirty, but I had some things to take care of at my house in Arlo before I went home to have dinner with Kenna at seven. Had to grab the stuff I’d left there for Cat, now that I’d taken him in, then drop off some more tools that I had stored away in my Suburban. I wouldn’t be able to use them until my new permit got approved next week, but I was tired of hearing them bang around in the back seat. “I’ve got some things to do so I’ll be out for a while, but if you need me, call.”

  Max leaned forward and hugged me with one arm. “Thanks for bringing the blanket.”

  “Course. I’d do anything for that little girl.” I walked over to still-sleeping Chloe and kissed her temple before leaving the hospital.

  Chapter 13

  McKenna

  I woke up sometime after eight to two arms pulling me off Gavin’s couch. Soft footsteps thumped beneath me on the floor, jostling me slightly against a chest as we walked down a dark hall. When I turned my head to settle against his shirt, I inhaled, smelling Gavin’s scent. I’d grown to enjoy it way more than I should have lately.

  Not bothering to fight him, I’d played like I was asleep. The embarrassment over me falling asleep on hi
s couch while I waited for him to come home so I could cook dinner felt a bit clingy. I was an emotional mess of hormones as it was, and the last thing I needed was for him to look at me with pity and set me off.

  Once he was out for the night, I’d leave, this time through the door. Yet the second he laid me in his soft, cozy bed and covered my body with his warm blankets, I realized how hard my escape would be.

  The lights flickered off, and I heard the rustle of clothes and a belt clinking against the floor. On my side and facing away from him, I could easily open my eyes, knowing he wouldn’t see my face. But I kept them closed, willing the moment to be a dream. Or the moment to hurry up so I could leave. The ease with which he handled me and did this whole bedtime thing was far too couple-ish for a girl with commitment phobia.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  I stiffened. The mattress sank as he moved to lie next to me. But instead of getting under the covers, he stayed on top and pulled a separate blanket over himself. I bit my lip, having no idea how to respond.

  “I’m so fucking sorry I’m late. I’m a jackass.”

  “It’s okay.” He wasn’t that late. And it’s not like I was waiting out in the chilly air or anything. Besides that, he’d warned me.

  When I got to his place a little before seven, I’d texted him that I was there. He’d told me to use his spare key under the doormat to let myself in. Apparently, he’d had something come up but would be there within the hour. I told him that it was okay, I didn’t mind waiting, but twenty minutes into doing so, I’d fallen asleep. Pregnancy exhaustion was a total bitch.

  “Chloe broke her arm today, and I’ve been worried about her. Then I had something else come up, and I lost track of time trying to work through it all.”

  Part of me was dying to know what he’d had to work through, but I didn’t have a right to know anything about his life. I was his…friend? Acquaintance? Oh, and let’s not forget the mother of his child.

  “It’s just been a shitty day all around,” he finished.

  “I’m sorry your day was shitty.” I pressed my hands between my cheek and the pillow, keeping still. If I spoke any more or rolled over to face him, I’d crack and tell him everything. Sure, that had been the original plan for tonight. Cook him dinner, only to sit him down after and break the news once his tummy was full and his eyes were half-shut. I was going to tell him not to worry, that I’d thought it over, and he didn’t need to take any responsibility for this child.

  But now, with his soft voice, his proximity, and my half-sleepy state doing mushy-gooey things to my already whacked-out hormones, I could barely string two words together.

  “It’s not okay. I’m so damn sorry I’m late.” My biggest fear came true as he moved to lie close to my backside. He didn’t wrap an arm around my waist, nor did he make a move to snuggle in any way, but he did reach up and pull some of my hair off my shoulder.

  Gavin was on the verge of a major cuddle moment.

  And I was too needy to push him away.

  “It is. I promise.” I’d fallen asleep on his couch like Goldilocks, yet felt no shame in being cuddled in his bed with lies that could break us both.

  If there was such a thing as a person who deserved to go to hell, other than the obvious bad people, I would be the prime candidate.

  A heavy breath escaped him, and I could feel it across my shoulder and neck. I shivered, unable to stop myself from arching my back and getting closer. His hand skimmed my waist, just beneath the bottom of my shirt.

  He leaned over and kissed the back of my head. “Go to sleep. In the morning, I’ll take you to breakfast to make up for tonight.”

  I nodded once, barely moving as he turned away from me. My shoulders fell in disappointment.

  “And, Kenna?”

  “Hmm?” I didn’t trust my voice.

  “Please don’t leave in the middle of the night.”

  “What if I have to pee?” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, trying not to grin.

  He chuckled softly. “Then go. Just no more Cinderella moments, okay?”

  I narrowed my eyes. Cinderella? As in… “Oh, my boot.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Hmm.”

  Several minutes later, with his warm back pressed solidly against mine, I found my nerves easing and my guard lowering further. “She’ll be okay.”

  “Who?” he asked, his voice crackly with sleep.

  “Chloe. The break was clean. And since she’s so young, even if she does wind up needing surgery, it’ll heal quickly.”

  He shifted in the bed, turning toward me again. “How’d you know she broke her arm?”

  “I was there. I worked today, remember?”

  “Shit. I forget everything.”

  Slowly, my bravery took over, and I turned onto my other side to face him. In the dark, I could just make out the outline of his cheek, his beard too. I clutched my hands together so I wasn’t tempted to reach out and touch him. Ever since my trip to Maine last winter, I’d developed a weird thing for lumber-sexual men. I think it was because my ex wasn’t hairy in the least. If anything, Paul had less hair than I did.

  I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought of him. Somehow, I’d managed not to think about the guy for a solid month…yet one night in bed with another man—even clothed—and my thoughts conjured up Paul.

  “Can’t sleep?” Gavin searched my eyes in the dark.

  Our faces were still a few inches apart, yet I felt closer to him than I should.

  “Not really.” That was a lie. Because if I shut my eyes, I’d no doubt fall asleep in a heartbeat, something I struggled to do at home. In the bed I used to share with the ex. Before he started sharing beds with a couple of someone elses.

  “Me either.”

  “Why?” I asked, because I was a glutton for punishment and suddenly wanted to know everything about this man—the man I wasn’t supposed to want to know.

  “Got a lot on my mind.”

  “I’m a good listener.” I smiled. So did he. It was rare, and I could barely see it in the dark, but I knew it was there. A smiling Gavin was pure brilliance.

  “I go back to work on Monday, for one.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean, go back to work?”

  He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. “I’ve been suspended for a month for…losing my temper.”

  “No shit?” I laughed. Which wasn’t the most appropriate reaction, but I couldn’t help myself. It was what I did when I didn’t know how to react to certain circumstances.

  “Not funny,” he grumbled.

  I snorted again, then slapped my hand over my mouth, because, hello? Rude much, Kenna? “I know it’s not funny. I’m sorry. It’s just…when I don’t know how to react to something, I laugh. Like, it’s a stress-management thing. It’s an actual condition.” I brought my thumb to my mouth and started biting on what little nail I had left. “For instance, when I first started out as a nurse, a man came into the ER, which is where I did a lot of my training, and he literally had a rash from head to toe. It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen, yet when I looked at him, I had no idea what to say. I, like, froze up. And because of that, I wound up laughing. I laughed so hard, I started to cry. It was…awful.”

  “Laughter is a mild form of hysteria.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gavin sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides. The backs of his knuckles grazed the front of my thighs in the process, but he didn’t move them closer, nor did he move them away.

  “Take, for example, when someone laughs at something really hard. They say it was ‘hysterical.’ There’s a fine line between laughing and crying. That’s the reason why people cry when they get happy, like when you go to a wedding.”

  “Mr. Psychological is in t
he house.” If I could have whooped in that moment, I probably would have—but, tact. I needed to learn it. Who knew Mr. St. James could be so insightful?

  “A person’s mind isn’t great at deciding which reaction is appropriate in certain situations,” he continued, ignoring my smart mouth. “Which is why you laughed at the man with a rash, and why you laughed when you learned I’d been suspended.”

  Through a yawn I said, “That makes sense.” More sense than anyone had made for me on any subject I’d struggled with. “Growing up, I always looked at things a little differently than most.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “I was shipped away to live with my father as a teenager because dear old Mom called me the socially unacceptable child with the loud mouth and no impulse control.”

  “So? I like that you’re impulsive.”

  He rolled back to face me again, laying a hand on my hip. Grinning, he squeezed it lightly. I moved closer, instead of away, letting our hips press together. For once in my life, I was determined to let intimacy win out.

  “My parents didn’t see it that way. Mother dear took me to three separate psychiatrists until one finally diagnosed me with impulsivity.”

  “Had to be hard.” His smile faltered.

  “It was. Mom wanted me to be the perfect southern daughter. But I didn’t fit into her life plan. That’s why she shipped me away, remarried, and adopted my stepsiblings.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from doing some things in my life, no matter how many times I was told the behavior was unacceptable. I spoke out loud at inopportune times, saying random stuff that made no sense to anyone but myself. I also picked at my scabs, bit my nails down to nothing, and rubbed at my nose and my eyes constantly. I had tics, I guess you could say.

  Luckily, I’d grown out of most of them, other than biting my nails obsessively. But sadly, I’d pushed those tics into other areas of my life. I talked too much and still said inappropriate things. And my life decisions were impulsive. For instance, I was really bad at picking boyfriends, which I’d finally figured out with Paul. If Gavin knew about all my strange quirks, he’d probably run for the hills. Which would be perfect. Well, if I wasn’t carrying his child.