Reckless For You Page 15

  "Wow," Dane says. "Wow."

  "Yeah," I laugh.

  "For a while there I really thought it was you."

  "What if it had been?" I reply. "What would you have said?" My stomach fills with butterflies as he glances at my stomach. His gaze wanders up my torso and to my eyes.

  "I would have told you I'm here for you." He nods. "I'll always be here for you . . . and I don't care about Zanna's cousin. I can move past that if you can move past Lucy."

  My chest feels warm. My head feels like it's floating but not because I'm intoxicated. Dane takes my hands and pulls me close to him. I take in the smell of his cologne. He kisses me lightly on the cheek.

  "Really?"

  "Yeah," Dane answers.

  "Then you should be there for Paige too. She's your sister." I can't imagine what it might feel like to be her right now.

  "She won't tell me anything." He frowns. "I doubt she will even go through with it."

  "At least try and talk to her."

  "Fine," he agrees. "I'll do it for you. But in return, you have to do something for me."

  "What?" I ask playfully.

  "My offer still stands to run away to Paris." He kisses me on my other cheek. "Promise me you will reconsider."

  I study his face. He anxiously waits for me to say yes. I think about what Aunt Scarlett said about a fresh start. Going to Europe would be a fresh start for me, but Aunt Scarlett would never approve.

  I look at Dane.

  Aunt Scarlett always says I am an adult now. Eloping with Dane is my choice. I will just have to explain that to her and hope that she understands.

  "Yes," I respond. "I will consider it."

  PART TWO

  Gavin & Paige

  PAIGE

  Chapter One

  “I need to buy a whole box of pregnancy tests.”

  Sometimes I really hate myself. Okay, more than just sometimes but it’s not my fault. Anyone who has met my family isn’t surprised I have issues. I splash water on my face and wipe the sides of my cheeks. I need to stop working out with an empty stomach.

  Especially now.

  “Honey.” A loud knock on the door startles me.

  “What,” I say sharply, rolling my eyes. It’s my mom. I can’t help but get frustrated with her when she suddenly starts caring about me. It started back when she forgot to pick me up from school on my very first day at McKay Elementary. I waited with Ted, the school janitor for two hours before our driver finally showed up. Mom made it up to me by taking me shopping that weekend. She bought me three different Barbie dream houses and my first caboodle of makeup. That’s her way of solving everything. I have an entire closet full of Louis Vuitton handbags.

  “Family meeting in five.”

  Instead of responding to her I splash more water on my face. A family meeting means one thing.

  More secrets to keep track of.

  I wipe my face with a towel and slowly study the pores on my nose. I need to go in for a facial. I haven’t had the time lately with Dane’s old flame Lucy in town. She clings to me like gooey lip gloss. I pretend she doesn’t bother me, but she totally does.

  My hand lifts up my shirt. I study the smooth skin on my abs. My eyes feel heavy. I cup the spot just underneath my belly button – the place where I’ve been feeling crampy and queasy. I still can’t believe this is happening to me. I refuse to believe it.

  But the pregnancy test I took was positive.

  Day and night since staying at our family's beach house on the Oregon coast I’ve been thinking about what to do next and who to tell about the baby.

  I need to buy a whole box of pregnancy tests.

  “Paige.” The sound of my dad’s voice thunders down the hall. I quickly wipe away a few eyeliner stains on my face and casually walk to the study. Both my parents are sitting next to each other – a rare occurrence. My brother Dane is sitting at the desk looking like he’s about to fall asleep.

  “Have a seat,” Dad instructs. My throat always tightens when he uses that tone of voice.

  “What’s this about?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. Dane stares at me. He usually ignores me. “What’s your problem?” I say under my breath. Dad looks over at Dane. His facial expression hardly changes but it’s enough to make Dane pay attention to him. I don’t know how he does it, but Dad always makes me feel like I have no choice but to obey him.

  “I want to talk to you two about what happened at the beach house.”

  Of course. I should have seen this coming.

  “Let me guess,” I interrupt. “We didn’t hear anything. We didn’t see anything. And as far as we’re concerned you don’t even own a gun.” Those lines are well rehearsed. My mom lifts her chin, letting her shiny, blonde hair dangle over her shoulder.

  “Just more lies like always,” Dane mutters.

  “Quiet,” Mom bursts. Her eyes open wide. “Both of you.” She rubs her temples like she can’t stand being in the room anymore. “For heaven’s sake Matt, just tell them.”

  Dad clears his throat.

  “After what happened at the beach house, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do.”

  Yeah in grandma and grandpa’s bedroom.

  The image of a body on the floor in a pool of blood flashes in my head. A wave of nausea rushes over me. I have to cover my mouth and force down the stomach acid that wants to surface.

  “We’ve decided it would be best if the two of you spend the rest of your summer with Aunt Sheila.”

  “WHAT.” Dane looks like he’s about to explode. His entire face almost matches the blood-orange color of his t-shirt.

  “Well we all know why you want to stay,” I comment.

  Mikki, the train wreck.

  She’s the only girl I’ve met who looks like she might fall to pieces if you tap her on the shoulder. I mean, she is pretty if you’re into the girl next door thing. I just can’t stand the way she always looks like she’s either going to faint or cry.

  “I’m not going to France or whatever,” Dane argues.

  “Your aunt lives in England,” my mom corrects him. My aunt Sheila is my mom’s sister. The two of them look scary alike except my aunt Sheila is taller. Mom once told me she used to be a runway model.

  “Whatever,” my brother laughs. “It doesn’t matter. You’re just trying to get rid of us. What else is new?” He throws his hands up in the air and leaves the room.

  “Dane,” my dad barks. But he doesn’t turn around.

  I purse my lips. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing? I’ll be out of Seaside before anyone notices I’m starting to inflate like a whale. I need some time to think. I feel like I can never think in this house.

  “Hmmm,” I say, standing up. “If I'm going to England, I guess I’m going to need a new wardrobe.” I glance at my mom.

  “I know you and Stephen-“

  I cut my mom off.

  “Stephen and I are on a break.” I run my fingers through my hair. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you want to.” Mom actually smiles at me.

  The sooner, the better.

  I nod and head back to my room. I start speed walking once I turn the corner.

  “Hey,” Dane says behind me. “I need to talk to you.” His voice is sincere and almost soft.

  “What about?”

  “Stuff,” he replies.

  “Maybe later.” I only have one thing on my mind. I need to call Alana and get this secret off my chest. I need to figure out what to do. I ignore him and jog to my room. I grab my cell phone and dial Alana’s number.

  Do I trust her?

  No.

  I don’t trust any of my friends, but Alana won’t let the news slip. She knows I will kill her if that happens. Well, I would make her social life a living hell which is way worse.

  “Hello?" Alana answers the phone. "Girl, I haven’t talked to you since that Lucy skank stole you away from me.” She giggles.

  “Oh don’t worry about her,” I reply. “That’
s totally a temp situation.”

  “Are you calling for some retail therapy or do you want to come over? My mom is away on business. We could make margaritas and watch The Bachelor?”

  “Um . . . sure.”

  At some point she’ll figure out something is wrong when I refuse to down shots with her.

  “See you in ten,” I reply.

  Chapter Two

  “. . . who’s the father?”

  Alana reminds me of a washed-up pop idol. She’s slim, and the copper highlights in her hair make her look tanner than she really is, but she wears too much mascara. It makes her lashes clump together. Plus, she always chooses the wrong shade of lipstick. The one she is wearing today is an orangey-red. Vintage.

  “Nice lipstick,” I comment. She pouts.

  “So,” she smiles, taking out the blender from a cupboard above the sink. “What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait?”

  “What?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “You’re having some kind of crisis. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Whatever.” I put a hand on my hip. Alana’s smile grows wider.

  “I got my eyebrows done yesterday,” she says casually. “The idiot lady took a tad too much from the left one. I had to use extra filler this morning to make them look even.”

  “So?”

  “You didn’t notice,” Alana laughs. “You always notice things like that. Something is on your mind.”

  I bite the side of my lip and shrug.

  “Spill.” She pulls a giant bottle of tequila from the fridge.

  “You might want a shot of that first,” I reply. Alana's eyes narrow. She stares at me for a minute before taking the cap off the bottle and taking a swig. She immediately coughs, but the smirk on her face doesn't go away.

  “Whoa, that’s some serious stuff.” She chuckles to herself as she stares at the bottle. She offers some to me.

  I shake my head.

  “Are you serious?” She looks at me and then looks at the bottle of tequila. “Okay, now I’m worried about you.”

  “You should be,” I mutter. The whole thing doesn’t feel real. It feels like I’m just stuck with a bad case of food poisoning.

  “Are you going to tell me?” She takes another sip. “Or do I have to beg? Come on; I’m not in a begging mood.”

  “Fine,” I gulp. “But you have to swear you won’t tell a soul. Got it?”

  “I swear.” She nods.

  I glance around the kitchen just to make sure we’re alone.

  “I’m . . . Well, I think I might be . . .”

  Alana taps her foot.

  “I think I might be pregnant,” I finish. That is the first time I’ve said it out loud.

  “You think you might be pregnant?” She starts to giggle.

  “Yes.” I hang my head as I say it.

  “You’re joking again, right? This is another prank you’re going to pull on Stephen.”

  “You’re insane,” I respond. But I am guilty of pretending to be pregnant. I faked it once to see if Stephen, my stupid ex, would propose. He didn't. Alana takes another sip of tequila and clears her throat. She wipes her mouth, and a smear of lipstick comes off on her hand.

  “So you’re not joking?”

  “No.” My response comes out a little louder than planned. Alana looks down at my stomach.

  “Whoa,” she whispers. She stares off into space for a minute. I impatiently wait to hear what she has to say next. “Wait . . . you said you think you might be pregnant?”

  “I took a test.”

  “And?”

  “And it was positive, but I only took one. Those things screw up sometimes, right?”

  She shrugs.

  “The test could be wrong,” I say.

  “Possibly,” she agrees. But I get the feeling she’s just saying that to make me feel better. “Let’s try again. What do you think?”

  Taking another test will just confirm what I already know in my gut. I fold my arms and shrug again. I think about the first pregnancy test I took at our family beach house. The only one. I wanted to cry when I saw the results. I let out a few tears, unsure if I was crying because I was happy or devastated. As weird as it sounds, I still haven’t decided.

  I shoved the box I discreetly bought at the gas station on my drive up coast under my bed. I even used the one bathroom in the house that nobody ever uses just in case anyone got suspicious. That test has been haunting me ever since.

  “Yeah,” Alana says in a more upbeat voice. “My mom has a whole box of those in her bathroom. The little slut. We can both take one.” She smiles and grabs my hand. I let her lead me upstairs to her mom’s bedroom.

  Her mom's closet door is open, and a couple of sleek, black dresses are draped across the bed in dry cleaner bags.

  “Her business trip was last minute,” Alana explains. “She left in a hurry.”

  “That’s a gorgeous Chanel.” I lightly run my fingers over one of the dresses.

  “Uh-huh.” Alana’s voice echoes in the bathroom. She sticks her head in a cabinet and proudly returns with two pregnancy tests. She eagerly hands me one like it's a sweet piece of candy. “You go first.”

  Does she not get how serious this is?

  “I need some water.”

  “Fine,” she flips a strand of hair. “I’ll go first.” She unwraps one of the tests and slams the bathroom door shut. I sigh and sit on the bed. My butt sinks into the fluffy comforter. I can feel another wave of nausea starting to stir. I shake my head. I know what that stupid plastic stick will say. It’s obvious. Even if I hadn’t taken a pregnancy test, I would have figured it out by now.

  I’m definitely pregnant.

  I hear the toilet flush. Alana opens the door and proceeds to wash her hands.

  “Okay, now you go.” She giggles. "This is fun."

  I shake my head.

  “It’ll be a waste of a test,” I comment.

  “Don’t be so negative. What if that first test was a fluke?” She wipes her hands with a towel and joins me on the bed.

  “It wasn’t.” I clutch the side of my stomach. “The morning sickness is killing me.”

  “Maybe it's only food poisoning?” she suggests.

  “For two weeks?”

  Alana’s expression slowly changes. I can hear her breathing start to pick up. She uncomfortably scratches the side of her head.

  “Who else knows?” she quietly asks, finally realizing that I am not joking this time. I look down.

  “No one.”

  Her hand touches my shoulder. An overwhelming urge to cry overcomes me. A tear escapes. I sniff and wipe it away. But as soon as I do, more tears come. It makes me angry that I can’t stop them.

  “Oh Paige,” Alana sighs. I glance at her with misty eyes. “So . . . who’s the father?

  GAVIN

  Chapter Three

  “I wanna keep my teeth.”

  “You’ve done well. You have a real talent for this.” Matt Haskell is an expert in every area but one. I’ve been working for him for two months, and he still hasn’t caught on that I’ve been circling back to his place to see his daughter.

  I guess I have a death wish.

  This guy freaks me out. I find myself ass-kissing and hating him at the same time.

  “Thank you, sir,” I reply. I put my hands in my pockets. Matt eyes me suspiciously. I quickly take my hands out of my pockets and clasp them in front of me. I never know how to act around him.

  “It might be a while until your next assignment,” he continues. He hands me an envelope. “As promised.”

  I carefully open the envelope. My heart starts pounding when I see the green stack of cash. My older brother Dan always says I’m the greedy one. Now I finally have the money to get my bike fixed.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Matt says. He walks past me and out of the alleyway. I lean against the brick wall of the building next to me and breathe in the night air. This alley is our meeting spot. The very first time
I met Matt Haskell was over by the dumpsters. Some jerk-off was beating the hell out of me.

  I let him punch me until he got tired.

  When the guy finally left, I saw Matt standing there watching me. I just looked at him and sat down to catch my breath. Matt walked closer and asked me why I let the man do it. I had all my defenses up, but I wasn’t fighting back. I remember laughing and holding up the guy’s wallet. The information in there could do more damage than a one-time drunken beating.

  That’s when Matt outstretched his hand and offered me a job.

  I reach for my cell phone. Paige is calling me again.

  “Yeah,” I quietly answer.

  “Finally,” Paige responds. I grin. The more attitude I hear in her voice, the more I can tell she misses me. “Why are you so hard to get a hold of?”

  “You wouldn’t have wanted me to answer the phone five minutes ago, trust me.”

  “Whatever.”

  I hear her sigh.

  “I need to talk to you,” she goes on. “When can we meet?”

  “My place?” I’m already chuckling because I know how she’s going to respond.

  “Ew no. Your brother gives me the creeps.”

  “Fine, we’ll do it your way.” I look down at the envelope in my hand and quickly shove it into my pocket. “The mall. I’ll find you.” I hang up before she tries to discuss the boring details. I don’t need details. I know where she’ll be. She visits the same stores in the same order every time she goes shopping.

  I keep the smile on my face and stroll around the corner onto the open sidewalk. The bright sky lights up Main Street like it’s a happening place to be. I hear laughter from the bar next door. Dan will most likely be in there. I would bet myself a hundred bucks that he got fired again.

  I push through the pub doors and walk through a cloud of cigarette smoke. Dan is sitting at his corner table surrounded by empty beer glasses. I shake my head and sit down next to him.

  “I knew you would turn up,” he growls. He takes a drink. “Come to gloat?”