She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not(17)

Kenny is still for a minute, knees to her chest, arms anchoring them there. “Partly.”

“And the other part?”

She flicks her eyes to me, and then away. “I guess I’ve gotten used to controlling things… It’s easiest to do that when I control the people I’m around. I can’t control you,” she says, finally looking at me again. “That’s dangerous.”

My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my body is tense. Leaning forward, I curl my arm around her waist and bring my left hand to her face, tilting Kenny’s chin up so she can see me without the shadows. “Why is it dangerous?”

And, then, Kenny breaks my heart. “Because some of us were meant to be alone, and it’s hard to remember that when you’re with me.”

I don’t slam my lips against hers the way I want to—I wait, patiently, for her to see my intention and accept it. “I’m going to kiss you again.” She nods, and then my lips are on hers, my body rolling until we’re laying on the sand, her beneath me, one of my hands at her waist, the other in her hair.

Kissing Kenny, tasting the salt of the sea and the sugar of her ice-cream on her lips while my body presses against hers, I fall in love with the beach all over again.





Chapter 15


Week 5: It’s a Girl!

Kennedy

Me: She won’t stop crying.

Gage: Are you asking for help, Kenny?

Me: April has the midnight shift at the ER. Brad has to wake up in three hours. I’ve been walking for an hour around my room. The kids all have school tomorrow and I don’t want her to keep them awake.

Gage: I knew you would need me. I’m on my way.

Me: It’s 1 a.m.

Gage: Life-partner, remember? And she’s our baby. BRT

My body sags with relief when I see the lights of Gage’s truck flash in the front window.

I open the door so he can walk right in, reveling in it when he pulls me close, despite the baby between us. She whimpers again, and he pulls back, grinning down. “So, she’s not exactly as easy as your siblings, huh?”

I want to glare, but I can’t. The relief that he’s here to help is too great. “She won’t stop crying. I was getting so desperate, I almost put her in a closet, but then I remembered what Ms. Moyer said, how they can detect abuse and neglect, so I called you.”

He raises his brows. “Glad to know relying on me is one step up from child-abuse.” Taking her from me, he brings her up on his shoulder like he would a real baby. The doll that has become our daughter for the next five days continues crying. “Come on, Cal, you’re gonna be okay.”

“Cal?”

Gage grins, patting her back. “She needs a name.”

Adorable that he thinks of these things—not that I’ll tell him. “Why Cal?”

“Cal Ripken, Jr. He played for the O’s? Baseball player?” I shake my head. He rolls his eyes. The baby cries again, and he jiggles her before he holds out his hand for me. “Come on. We can take her for a drive, so she doesn’t wake your family up.”

I stand in my spot, amazed, relieved and all around happy despite being ready to tear my hair out only seconds before. “Thank you.” He pauses, his smile confused, and I lean forward on my toes and press my lips to his, kissing Gage because I can. Because I want to. Because I need to.

“Thank you. For coming here when I needed you.” Dropping back down to my feet, I wait for him to open his eyes and look at me. “You’re a good life-partner, Gage Christensen.”

He smiles, linking our fingers before tugging me out the door toward his truck. “You have no idea, Kenny. No idea.”

But I do. An ache blooms in my chest, and I realize just how much I’ve come to rely on Gage, and just how much I’m going to miss him next week when our partnership is over.





Chapter 16


Week 5, Part 2: Don’t be a fool, wrap your... you know how the rest goes.

Gage

Having a baby sucks. If there was a perfect PSA for abstinence or safe sex, this week has been it.

Dear sweet baby Jesus, I do not want a child anytime soon.

I’m so tired, I can barely see straight. Kenny and I have been walking Cal every night, taking her for a drive, taking turns snuggling her because, apparently, even a plastic baby knows how to cry if she isn’t getting the attention she wants. I haven’t focused this much on anything other than baseball since Call of Duty: Black Ops was released.

Or since I laid eyes on Kenny.

The bonus of having a fake-baby together? More time spent with my lovely life-partner. Every night this week, since Kenny had to ask for help, she has taken Cal after school, sitting in the bleachers at my practice, doing homework with the baby strapped to her chest in a little carrier April pulled down from the attic because Cal cries every time she’s put down. When practice is over, I take them both home. I’ve had dinner with her family a couple of times, and, tonight, she’s having dinner with mine.

I don’t want a baby, but I sure don’t mind having Kenny. I think I have her, that is.

I shift a little in my seat, eyeing her and wondering what she’s feeling. When we’re alone, she’s a little more relaxed—kissing me back—though she has only initiated that one time and that could have been more in gratitude than desire—holding my hand, and hugging me. But never at school, no matter how often I lean down to hug her, kiss her, or hold her hand, and never has she said anything about what’s going to happen when this week is over and we aren’t required to spend time together. That unsettles me, and has a weight plummeting in my stomach.