by Salsbury, JB
“You’re pregnant.” Not a question, more like he’s feeling the words in his mouth, allowing them time to sink in. “We were always safe, not that I’m complaining. I know these things happen, but… pregnant.” His smile widens.
My stomach sinks to my toes. “Ry—”
“I didn’t think I was ready to be a dad, but I’m good with this. No, I’m more than good. I’m great with this.” He launches at me, making sure to avoid my ankle. His arms wrap around me, and he kisses me, gentle and with such care that tears spring to my eyes. “Don’t cry, babe. We’re going to have a baby and be a family—”
“It’s not yours.” Now I’m really crying.
Happiness slides from his perfect face, tugging the corners of his mouth into a frown. With a sudden jerk, he nearly throws himself to the far end of the couch. “Not mine?”
I sit up, wanting to grab him and pull him back into my arms. “Now you see! I told you. You didn’t believe me, but I told you!”
His eyes glaze over like he’s fighting tears. “What did you tell me?”
“That I’m no good for you. I killed my own mom.” I choke through my own tears. “I’m pregnant with a married man’s baby!”
He looks beat up as his eyes continue to fill with water, and I’m responsible for that.
“These things just happen to me. I mean well. I don’t want to hurt people, but it seems like wherever I go, I leave destruction behind.”
His gaze settles on my belly. “How long…” He swallows. “How far along are you?”
My heart sinks. “The doctor said ten weeks.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
He falls back to the couch, his legs open, shoulders slumped as he stares off at nothing. Silence stretches between us for what feels like forever.
“I want you to know, if my life was different and I was worthy of a man like you, I wouldn’t have taken you for granted. If we’d met under different circumstances, on equal footing, I would’ve loved you. And I’d have felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have your love in return.”
He continues to stare at the empty wall across the room. His expression doesn’t register that he’s heard a word I’ve said.
“Ryder?”
He blinks, then slides his watery eyes to me. “I’m going to go to bed.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He moves off the couch and to the stairs like he’s wearing lead shoes. I suck back a sob and hold it in, refusing to bawl in front of the man whose shown me more acceptance and compassion than anyone else ever has. Three steps up with his hand braced on the railing, Ryder turns and his eyes focus on me.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to tell me to be gone by morning or, worse, demanding I leave now. I wouldn’t expect less. I deserve as much. His eyes narrow slightly, and I brace. “Are you coming?”
“You want… I mean… Me?”
He tilts his head, his perfect lips frowning. “Yeah.”
The lump in my throat expands, and a breath shudders out of me when I say, “Are you sure?”
His expression softens. “Come on, you’ll need help up the stairs.”
“I can sleep down here—”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I want you in my bed.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, But what about everything I just told you? Don’t you get it? You don’t want me! You can do so much better! I bite my tongue because I want… no, I need to be close to him. Just for one more night.
I grab a crutch and limp toward the steps. He removes it and dips to place himself under my arm. I can’t take my eyes off his face, his busted forehead, and cuts and scrapes along his jaw and neck as he supports me to the second level of his house.
We don’t speak as he walks me to the side of his bed, peels back the thick comforter, and follows me when I crawl inside. My eyes burn, and I swipe tears from my cheeks before resting my head on his pillow. The sheets smell like him—spicy and slightly sweet. His big body comes behind me, his arm wrapping around my middle, and I gasp when he palms my lower belly.
New tears spring to my eyes and gather in my lashes.
I cover his hand with mine and cling to the warmth of his sturdy support, knowing this will be the last time he’ll hold me close.
By morning, he’ll have come to his senses.
29
Jade
I wake the next day and find myself alone in Ryder’s bed, and my stomach churns with unease. After he pulled me in his arms last night, I fell right to sleep and woke in the same position having not moved an inch during the night.
I’ve never slept so hard in my life.
I’ve never been pregnant before either.
I roll to my back and groan as my ankle protests the movement. Ryder’s room is cast in yellow sunlight, making the grays and browns and dark-stained wood furniture brighter. Using my uninjured foot, I push myself up to lean against the headboard of the modern platform bed and listen for signs of life somewhere in the house, but I hear nothing.
On the bedside table is a glass of water and two Tylenol. Assuming those are for me, I throw them back and empty the glass. My crutches are leaned against the foot of the bed, and on the dresser across the room is the Trader Joe’s bag.
Ryder brought my stuff up here. What does that mean?
For the first time since I left Massachusetts, I don’t have a plan. I have nowhere to go, not a dollar to my name, and not even an ID to help me secure a legitimate job. I’m broke, lame, and pregnant. What options are there for me?
I scoot to the end of the bed and use my crutches to help me to the bathroom. Ryder’s space is just as tidy as it was on tour, everything put in its place. The toothbrush I used in the downstairs bathroom last night is the only thing sitting on the otherwise clutter-free countertop.
I wash my face, brush my teeth, and hobble to the stairs. Sitting on my butt, I slide down each step, dragging my crutches behind me. The beach snares my gaze, the crème-colored sand a contrast to the deep-blue ocean and white waves in the distance.
In the kitchen there’s a Keurig, and after I hunt down a coffee mug, I brew a cup and stand at the sink to drink it. The second it touches my lips, I freeze.
Caffeine.
The baby.
I set the glass down in the sink and feel a rush of fresh tears.
I swipe at them angrily, wondering if this crying thing is part of the new me I’ll have to get used to over the next nine months.
Pouring out the coffee, I hop to the fridge and pull out the orange juice instead. I’m on my second gulp when the sound of a sliding-glass door calls my attention to Ryder, who’s stomping sand off his shoes before stepping inside, shirtless and glistening with sweat.
For a brief moment, our eyes latch. Seconds melt into more when he squints and steps closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I grip my mug of OJ tightly to my chest.
“You’ve been crying.” He still hasn’t torn his blue eyes from mine.
“A little.” I smile feeling bashful and embarrassed. “But I’m okay.”
“You hurting?” He motions to my foot. “I left you Tylenol. Advil probably would’ve been better, but…” He finally pulls his eyes away but only to drop his gaze to my stomach. “The baby.”
A wellspring of tears fights for release, but I blink rapidly to hold them back. “I took them. Thank you.”
He nods once and then heads for the stairs. “I need a shower.”
I smile awkwardly with all the tension and unanswered questions that swirl between us.
“Jade?” He’s halfway up the stairs, his eyes on the next step in front of him.
“Yeah?”
“That’s all there is, right? No more secrets to tell?”
I nod even though he’s not looking at me. “No more secrets. You have it all now.”
“Good.”
With that, he disappears up the stairs.
; Ryder
There are a million love songs in every genre of music that speak of seeing the future in the eyes of a lover. I never realized what that meant until I walked in after my run to see Jade standing in my kitchen, wearing my clothes, holding my coffee cup, and looking as if she were made to be there.
My mind flashed with images of her belly growing round with our baby. I could practically hear our delirious laughter born of sleepless nights with a newborn. Little clothes, stepping on toys, and baby drum sets.
In those seconds, I got a glimpse into the future with Jade, and when the visions stopped and my thoughts cleared, I was sad to see them go.
But what if I’m not what she wants?
After being lied to and manipulated by her ex, I would expect her to doubt her own feelings. How would I ever know if she wanted me because she loves me or if she wants me because she has no other option?
I don’t have the answer to that.
I do know that in order for her to make a well-informed choice, she’s going to need all the information.
The doorbell rings, and I jog down the steps while simultaneously searching for Jade. I find her on the patio, her long curly hair blowing in the ocean breeze as she closes her eyes toward the sun.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Coming!” I clear the last few steps and swing open the door.
“Mr. Kyle?” A man about my age wearing a polo shirt and shorts lifts his brows.
“Who are you?”
“Courier service.” He pulls an envelope from under his arm. “You are Mr. Kyle?”
“Yeah.” I take the envelope and sign a screen on his phone. “Thanks.”
I close the door and check the writing on the cardboard envelope.
Jade DeLeon care of Ryder Kyle.
The insignia is from Arenfield Records.
I head to the patio door, getting Jade’s attention when I slide it open. She blinks into the bright light, and I take the chair next to her.
“Something came for you.”
Her forehead wrinkles, and she takes the offered piece of mail. “It’s from your record label.”
“Maybe it’s paperwork about the accident?”
“How would they know to find me here?”
My face gets hot. “I told Jesse when I found you. Bethany was worried, so…” What I don’t tell her is Jesse was worried too. Even Ethan blew up my phone asking if I’d found her. She doesn’t realize she’s wormed her way into all our hearts.
“Huh.” She thinks on that for a few seconds before ripping open the envelope and dumping a smaller envelope in her lap along with a letter.
A handwritten letter.
“It’s from Mark Arenfield.” Her gaze darts to mine.
What the hell? “What does it say?”
Her eyes widen as they skim the paper, line for line. “Want to thank you for your working as water girl on the Playing by Heart Tour… payment for your twenty-one days of service… four hundred dollars per day…” Her voice gets louder and louder with every line. “Included is also a token of my appreciation for your quick thinking and appropriate action taken at the scene of the accident…” She shakes her head as if hearing all this is too much. “And a bonus for ensuring my daughter got back to Seattle safely.” Her wide eyes come to mine.
“She told him.” I can’t say I’m surprised. Chris is so fucked.
“Aware your ID was stolen, we’ve included your payment in cash?” She looks at me for confirmation.
“Open it up.” I nod at the second envelope.
She sets down the letter and folds open the prongs to peek inside. Her body stills. I’m pretty sure she’s even holding her breath.
“How much is in there?”
She blinks off the shock and pulls out multiple stacks of hundred-dollar bills. “Oh my God,” she whispers. “I think…” She feathers her fingers through the stacks. “There’s eight thousand dollars here!”
I feel the corner of my mouth lift. “You deserved twenty.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, and she laughs. Her face is alight with happiness, and the sound pouring from her lips is hearty and heartfelt. “I can’t believe this. I can get an apartment with this. Get some clothes. Get a job.”
My stomach sinks in my gut.
She smiles, those dimples sending spears through my chest.
“Jade, I know you’ve got decisions to make.” I eye her lower belly without meaning to. “But there’s something I want to show you before you do that.”
Her smile falls. “Oh… okay, what is it?”
“Before I tell you, can you give me twenty-four hours before you start making plans?”
She chews her lip. “I don’t see why not. It’ll take me at least that long to come up with a plan.”
“Thank you.” I stand. “Twenty-four hours goes by quickly, so we better get going.”
“Wait, going? Where are we going?”
I hand her the crutches and help her to stand. “Las Vegas.”
* * *
We left my house at eleven o’clock and went straight to Target where Jade was able to pick up some clothes and a pair of generic tennis shoes. From there we headed toward Vegas, stopping halfway to grab some food. With Jade eating for two, I wished I could find something healthier, but she seemed satisfied with a burger, fries, and a milkshake.
It’s nearly seven at night when we finally pull up to the house I grew up in. Jade’s eyes are wide on the front entrance when I circle around to help her out of the truck. “You grew up here?”
“It’s just a house.” I lift her down and hand over her crutches.
“Yeah, and you’re just a drummer.” She smiles shyly, and I get that feeling in my chest, the same one I got the night I looked at her and lost the pocket while I was playing. The same feeling I get every time I look at her. “Did you bring me here to show me your childhood mansion?”
“No.” I chuckle while keeping a slower pace beside her. The house isn’t as big as Jade makes it sound. It’s one level, modern, all brick, and has exposed metal beams with Asian accents. I always thought it looked more like a swanky restaurant than a home.
“Your butler?”
I shake my head as we walk through the Zen garden and koi pond toward the door. “Nope.”
She tilts her head back to take in the massive, ten-feet-tall, carved-wood door. “Pet giant?”
“No.” I knock hard three times, my stomach bottoming out with nerves. “I brought you here to meet Rosie.”
Her head swivels toward me, her mouth agape.
I give her a reassuring smile that I hardly feel. I don’t let anyone see this part of my life in order to protect my family. By bringing Jade here and introducing her to Rosie, I’m laying myself bare, putting it all out there, giving her the power to expose and hurt the people I love most in the world.
The door swings open, and I look down and see my little brother, Dexter, blinking big brown eyes at me. “Dude. What are you doing answering the door? I could be a psychopath.”
He grins and races into my arms. I scoop him up, and when he unwraps my neck from a death grip, I jerk my chin toward Jade. “This is my friend, Jade.”
She smiles at him. “Hi.”
“Jade, this is my brother, Dex.”
“Wanna see my trains?”
Her eyes dart to mine, then back to him. “Sure.”
“Maybe later, bro.”
“Ryder?” Eve barrels into me, hugging both me and Dex at the same time. “What are you doing here?” She looks at Jade. “Jade, hi!” Then in typical Eve style, she hugs her too. “You’re on crutches. Ryder told us you broke your ankle in the accident. Cam and I were planning to come to LA tomorrow. We were just setting up arrangements for the kids.” She scoops Dexter from my arms. “You’re not supposed to answer the door, you little gremlin.” She kisses his cheek, then sets him down. “Come in, guys.”
I curse Jade’s crutches—again—because I can’t hold her hand. I wipe my
sweaty palms on my shirt as we head into the house.
“Your dad is out back grilling steaks.” She sticks her head outside. “Cameron, come see who’s here!”
My dad lumbers his big body inside, and the corner of his mouth lifts when he sees me. “Ry, what the fuck?” He pulls me into a back-thumping hug. “Scared me to death getting that call from you at the hospital,” he rumbles for only me to hear, then backs off and grabs my chin to study my cuts and bruises. “Now you look like you work for me.” He smirks.
“You wish, old man.” I nod toward Jade. “You remember Jade.”
“Yeah.” He eyes her crutches and wrapped foot. “You hurting?”
She smiles and eyes me, probably noticing how I’d said those same words to her this morning. “I’m fine, Mr. Kyle—”
“Call me Cam.” He eyes us both. “How are Ethan and Chris?”
“Ethan’s good, broken bones but nothing that won’t heal. Chris has a lot of surgeries in his future, but he’ll survive.”
Jade adjusts her crutches, and my dad holds out his hand to help her walk. “Come. Sit.”
“Actually,” I say, making Jade stop mid-step and my dad scowl. “I was hoping I could introduce Jade to Rosie.”
My dad’s eyes practically fall from his head. “That right?”
“Yeah.”
He looks at Eve who is covering a big-ass smile with her hand. He rolls his eyes at her, then nods. “You know where to find her.”
I motion for Jade to follow me. I focus on the one-two rhythm of her crutches and single shoe down the hallway toward the den. I rap my knuckles against the door and hear a small voice say, “Come in.”
I push inside and Melanie, Rosie’s nurse, stands to greet us. “Ryder, what on earth?” she says, laughing and hugging me. “I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
“It was a last-minute visit.” I introduce the older woman to Jade. “Where’s Rosie?”
She waves us toward the attached media room. “She’s watching High School Musical for the millionth time. She can’t get enough of that Zac Efron.” We follow her through the doorway and there, just two feet from the television, is Rosie. “Look who came to see you,” Melanie says.
