Inflame (Explosive) Read Free Page A

when I told Charlie I was secretly excited about the possibility of being pregnant. My own childhood wasn’t the greatest, to say the least, and I looked forward to being the best mother I could be, regardless of the situation. But the moment I realized I had to include Kale in the equation, I panicked and burrowed into my couch, ignoring my phone and mindlessly watching Top Chef marathons for hours all while trying, and failing, to make lesson plans.
    “Lucy!” Charlie snaps in my face, getting my attention. She waves her hands up and down my body. “What is this? When was the last time you showered?”
    Looking down, I cringe at myself. I’m in my most comfortable sweats—synonymous for my oldest and rattiest sweats, complete with holes and all. The thin cotton tank top I’m wearing is practically see-through. My usual blonde curls are in a messy bun on the top of my head. I don’t even want to know what my face looks like right now. Probably puffy, with swollen eyes and swollen cheeks. Just a sign of what’s to come in the months ahead.
    Grabbing a light track jacket off the coat rack next to the door, I cover up and wave her in.
    “I haven’t been feeling well, and I’m sure you can figure out why. Sorry, Charlie, but I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”
    She follows me into the living room and sits down on the couch next to me, raising her eyebrows as she takes in the sight of the room. Normally, I hate clutter, but I’ve done little more than watch reality TV. My hormones have been running rampant. I wasn’t lying when I told Charlie that I was excited at the prospect of being a mom. It wasn’t until I actually saw the digital PREGANT glaring back at me that reality started to sink in. Then, the moment Kale held me close and told me that we’re in this together, it suddenly felt all too real.
    “So it’s positive?” she asks, getting right to the point.
    “Yep,” is all I manage to say, and I cringe when her look turns to pity. “Don’t, Charlie. Don’t look at me like you’re about to tell me you’re sorry. Like this is a bad thing. I don’t want to hear that right now.”
    She leans over and grabs my hand. “I wasn’t going to say that at all, Luce. I’m happy for you, even if this wasn’t exactly planned. I’ll be here for you through all of it, okay?
    Giving her a small smile, I squeeze her hand before releasing it. “I know, I know. And I appreciate it. It’s just a little overwhelming right now, you know? I knew it. In the back of my mind, with all the changes in my body and mood, I knew I was, but a part of me didn’t actually believe it. I’m just trying to process it all.”
    “How’d Kale take it? When you told him?”
    I groan and fall back on the couch, not wanting to get into this, but I know Charlie won’t relent.
    “That bad?” she asks, cringing at my reaction, and I shake my head.
    “No, the complete opposite,” I admit, and as I retell the story, I start feeling like a complete ass.
    Kale was so sweet, gentle, considerate even, and I practically threw him out of my house and have been avoiding him ever since. The thing is, I thought he’d turn around and run the moment he saw my tear-filled eyes. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and let me know that everything was going to be fine. That confused me even more, so like a coward, I’ve been hiding out in my apartment ever since.
    When I finish talking, I lean back against the couch, waiting for Charlie to reprimand me for my behavior. She’s always been the one with a calm head on her shoulders, while I’ve been more of the wild child, the loose cannon.
    “All right, I know you want to yell at me, so let me have it,” I tell her, bracing myself.
    “Lucy, I have no intention of yelling at you. But you have to admit, it’s pretty damn sweet the way he reacted. And the care package? What guy would think to do that?”
    I shrug, not saying a word even though I know exactly what kind of guy would do