Inflame (Explosive) Read Free

Hell, I even tried Facebook messaging her, and she didn’t reply. And I know she saw it. I’m just worried about her,” I tell her sincerely, and her face softens at my words.
    “Kale, this is kind of a big deal for her. Well, for both of you. She may need time and space, but she probably needs reassurance and support, too. And if she’s not answering her phone, well, you know where she lives.” Charlie slaps a hand on my back. “You two have a lot to figure out. But I’m rooting for you.”
    “Yeah, I guess we do. Thanks, Charlie,” I agree, and I know she’s right.
    Lucy may be trying to avoid me, but one thing she’ll have to learn is that I can be persistent as hell.

 
    T HE SOUND of the doorbell wakes me from my sleep, and when I look at the clock, I see that I’ve been napping for at least two hours on my couch. Inhaling deeply, I can almost smell the pinewood scent of Kale’s cologne still lingering from when we had sex right here just two nights ago. Two freaking nights ago, when every single thing in my life changed with one plastic, digital stick. Charlie once told me that Kale looked like walking, talking sex on a stick. Now I’m wishing she’d kept her damn mouth shut.
    Ever since I so rudely pushed Kale out my door the other day, I’ve done nothing but sleep, watch T.V. and work on lesson plans when I have the energy. The whole thinking and processing things? Yeah, so didn’t happen. All I wanted to do when Kale left was make lists, just like I do to plan out my school days, but then he left a package at my door—an extremely sweet gesture I hadn’t been expecting. My mind was reeling from the thoughtfulness, even though it shouldn’t have.
    Regardless of the lack of label on our relationship, he’s always been attentive—in and out of bed. That’s probably the confusing part of our relationship. Behind closed doors, we act as if we’re together, but we’re not, and in public, we’re nothing but friends. In all reality, he’s become one of my best friends over the past year and a half, and we just so happen to sleep together. And I just so happen to be in deep lust with him. Secretly, of course. The night I met Kale Montgomery, I knew I was in trouble. I just didn’t know how much.
    Not long after he’d left, I heard a quick knock. I opened my door and saw no one there, almost missing the package at my feet. When I opened it, my silly little heart swelled. I took the box to the kitchen and unpacked it. Smiling at the contents, which were perfect for my queasy stomach, I set the drinks in the refrigerator. I grabbed the bubble bath and settled into the most relaxing bath I’d had in a really long time, courtesy of Kale.
    The doorbell rings again, tearing me out of my thoughts. I go to answer it, surprised that it took him two whole days before showing up again. I feel bad for having ignored his phones calls all weekend, but I just couldn’t figure out what to say.
    “Hold your freaking horses. In seven months, I’ll be waddling and you’ll have to wait even longer for me to get to the door,” I huff, swinging it open wide, but instead of Kale, Charlie’s on the other side, frowning as she looks me up and down.
    “Sorry, no sweet and sexy, dimpled playboy here. Just me, your annoying best friend, wondering why in the hell your baby daddy was the one to tell me you do, indeed, have a baby daddy,” Charlie says, narrowing her eyes at me.
    I told her on Friday night that I thought I was expecting, but after Kale came over and we confirmed it, I didn’t know what to do or what to think. Plus, I figured Charlie and Knox were in post-coital bliss from Knox’s public declaration of love, and the last thing they needed was morning-sickness-ridden, hormonal, bum-looking me hanging out on their doorstep, lamenting the errors of my faulty-birth-control ways, all the while painting a nursery in my head.
    I’m feeling extremely bipolar when it comes to this pregnancy. I wasn’t lying