Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) (8 page)

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, this 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

T
he 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.

Rather than let Ryan know this, I choose instead to give him a hard time.

“Really? That’s the best proposal you could come up with?” I cross my arms teasingly.

He rolls his eyes, but next thing I know he’s dropping to one knee in front of me, holding out the delicate jewel.

“Kelley Sunshine Brooks, will you do me the honor of being my fake fiancée?” A giant, cheesy smile spreads across his face as he grabs my hand.

I can’t help but laugh at his overly dramatic display as he slides the ring on my left ring finger. I also try not to notice how perfectly it fits.

Ryan quickly pulls back before getting up and heading to the closet that leads to the bathroom. He grabs a blanket and pillow from the top shelf. “I’ll leave you to get settled then. If you need anything, let me know.”

I nod appreciatively as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

I take the opportunity to look at the ring sparkling on my hand. Again, not exactly how I pictured this going down, but I must admit Ryan’s taste in jewelry is impeccable. Two small diamonds flank a larger princess cut one in the center of a classic setting. There is something stunning about it’s simplicity. I begin to picture him making a special trip to a jewelry store, telling the clerk how he needs something perfect for the love of his life.