“Shh,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward mine. “Don’t think.” His breath brushes against my lips and then it’s his own lips I feel pillowed against mine. I freeze and my heart stutters in my chest. His hand cups my cheek, and when I don’t pull away, he deepens the kiss. I still don’t pull away. I don’t want to. I like the feel of his lips on mine. His tongue brushes my lips and my mouth parts for him. Electricity seems to spark beneath the surface of my skin. I kiss him back, pressing closer to his body. He groans lowly and my mouth swallows the sound. I’m pretty sure I whimper too. I’m so lost in the feel of him that my thoughts completely disappear. This isn’t something I imagined happening between us, but I don’t want to stop it, either. We break apart and we both swallow thickly. “Whoa,” he murmurs.
I look at him with wide eyes. I have no words. I liked that. Way more than I should have and that scares me. My hands shake and I look away. I feel dirty for enjoying kissing Ryder—for kissing anyone that’s not Ben. I shouldn’t have liked it, but I did. Oh, God, I did. I don’t know how to sort my racing thoughts and I jolt upright.
“I have to go.” My words slur together in my haste, and I nearly stumble over my own two feet as I try to get away.
“Blaire,” Ryder calls after me and starts to follow.
I turn around and hold up my hands. “No,” I say. “No.”
He pauses and hurt flashes in his eyes but he must see the pain in my eyes too because he doesn’t push. I turn and leave, the shattered pieces of my heart pulsing and aching in my chest, yearning for the man I leave behind me.
I arrive home and sit in my parked car for longer than necessary. I can’t seem to wrap my head around that kiss. My lips still tingle from the feel of Ryder’s. I want to hate the kiss, but I can’t. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept that I kissed a man that’s not Ben. My feelings for Ryder have been something I’ve downplayed not only to everyone else, but to myself as well. I didn’t want to believe that they were real or that they carried any weight. But what I feel for Ryder, it’s very real and it scares the crap out of me. I’ve been hurt so deeply by Ben’s death. I lost the love of my life—the man I thought would be the one I’d love until I died. I’m scared to love someone that much again and my brain screams that it’s too soon while my heart … my heart just wants Ryder.
Tears pour from my eyes. I don’t know what to do.
Ben’s gone.
I’m pregnant.
And I might be falling for another man only six months after losing the one I believed to be my everything.
I’m a fucking mess.
And on top of my messed up love life, the bills are piling up—something I’ve pushed to farthest recesses of my mind. I could barely deal with everything else, let alone the reality that I need to sell my house too. The house I bought with Ben. The house we were going to raise our family in.
I lean my head back into the headrest and let out a groan, pent-up anger that needs to come out before I explode.
My life is a complete cluster-fuck at the moment and I really don’t need my feelings for Ryder complicating it at the moment.
My phone buzzes in my purse and I reach over and grab it.
<b>Ryder: I’m not sorry for kissing you. Maybe I should be but I’m not. If you want an apology I won’t give it to you. You’re the first woman I’ve kissed in nearly two years. It meant something to me. You mean something to me.
</b>I place the phone on the seat beside me and clutch the steering wheel. I need to hold on to something. My eyes close and I breathe out through my mouth.
My feelings are all over the place. I—
The baby kicks and my breath stutters.
I haven’t felt the baby kick before now. I’ve felt little flutters I thought might be something, but not this. Not a full-blown kick where it’s like the baby is saying hello. I press my hand to the spot, hoping to feel it again.
“Hi, Little Girl,” I say, my voice thick with tears. “Mommy loves you.” And I do, so much. Even if I feel like my life is falling apart around me, this baby is everything that I want. She’s keeping me going—keeping the hope alive. I rub my hand against my stomach, trying to coax her to kick again, but she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter, though. That one kick filled me with so much joy. The joy is fleeting, however, because like always the sadness soon accompanies it. The sadness that Ben’s not here to experience this.
He’s not here.
Our baby is growing inside me.
And I’m kissing someone else—and liking it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. I can’t escape these complicated thoughts. Maybe I never will because there’s nothing easy about my situation.
Finally, I know I can’t sit in the car any longer.
I head inside and my mom’s working on a crochet project—she said she wanted to learn so she could make things for the baby—and my dad is parked in front of the TV per usual.
“Hey,” I say, trying to act normal.
“How’d it go?” my mom asks, lowering the … whatever it is she’s making. It looks like a knotted mess to me, but what do I know? “You’re back early.”