Love Me Reckless (Love Me Dangerous #2)

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

SAWYER

Kirilee takes off down the sidewalk. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she says, anguished. “I should have started this sooner. I should have known it was too late.”

“Hey. Give yourself a break.” It comes out harsh, but I’m not okay with her torturing herself.

Kirilee draws in a shaky breath. “Let’s just go home.”

Home. As in back to the toxic soup she’s swimming in. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

We reach the corner, but the light turns red.

She wipes a tear from her cheek. “What other choice is there?”

“There’s a whole world of them, princess. All you gotta do is open your eyes.”

“My eyes are open.” She shakes her head like she’s angry, then hugs herself and blinks up at the stars. “But it doesn’t change the view.”

Fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut for an instant to keep grounded because if this is what’s keeping her from her dreams, the solution is right in front of her. It’s called trust. In herself. In the incredible and beautiful confidence she carries inside her.

“That doesn’t mean what you wish for isn’t there. It just means you can’t see it yet.”

She swipes at her cheeks and huffs a giant sigh. “So you’re saying I just have to leap into the unknown and hope for the best?”

As much as it kills me to see her upset, does she ever allow herself to feel like this? To let her guard down?

“Is it the fall that scares you? Or the risk of making a mistake?”

Her eyes flash. “Neither.”

I brush a stray hair from her face. “Then what is it, sweetheart? What’s holding you back?”

She blinks and inhales a shaky breath. “That I’ll end up alone.”

I hold her gaze so she knows it’s safe to share this with me. “I’m sorry. That’s a really awful thing to fear.” It tears me up inside that she feels this way. And it’s not even true. How could she end up alone when so many wonderful people love and care for her? But maybe this has to do with a deeper fear, one rooted in the way she was raised to believe that she’s only worth her parents’ love if she fits their mold.

Fuck, that hurts.

“Kirilee?”

I look behind us. Brydeen is hurrying our way, a determined expression on her face.

Kirilee steps back. “Is something wrong?”

“Leif’s seven o’clock just canceled. Do you want it?”

Kirilee locks eyes with me as a smile slowly brightens her face. “Hell yes, I want it.”

Back in the shop, we’re ushered to Leif’s station. He’s smiling, his eyes bright, like he’s thrilled at this turn of events.

“We’ll print a stencil of what we worked on, so go ahead and get comfortable.”

While Leif gets busy preparing the stencil and setting up, Kirilee rolls up her tank top again and lays on her side.

I stroke her hair from her face, caressing her forehead with my thumb. What I’ve just learned about her is crushing me inside. I want to promise her that she’ll never be alone. No matter what happens—whether she decides to leap into that unknown or play it safe—I’ll be there for her. Even if I have to do it from the sidelines.

Our eyes lock and she reaches out for my hand.

“Tell me about yours,” she says while Leif flicks on his extra light source.

“The first few minutes are the hardest, but then your skin kind of adjusts and it won’t hurt as much.”

Leif slips on his nitrile gloves and settles onto his stool. After a gentle wash with an antiseptic cloth, he carefully adds the stencil to her skin. While it sets, he gives Kirilee a rundown: how he’ll work on the less sensitive areas first, how she can ask for a break if she needs it. He ends his pep talk with a warning not to move.

“Ready?” He places a hand on her shoulder.

Kirilee glances at him and releases a slow breath. “Yeah.”

He adds a thin layer of ointment so the needle can move easier. The burr of the machine shocks her a little, and she laughs.

I lock eyes with her. “Take a couple of breaths, nice and easy. Tell your body it’s okay.”

Kirilee complies, her gaze tense with determination.

“Here we go,” Leif says.

Kirilee’s face twists in pain and she tightens her grip on my hand.

“You got this,” I say.

She releases a slow breath. “Tell me about when you were little.”

“Why?”

“To distract me.”

“What do you want to know?”

She winces. “What you were like. What you did for fun.” She takes a slow breath. “The trouble… you’ve got into. All the hearts you’ve broken. Gimme all the dirt.”

I rub the tops of her fingers with my thumb. “Okay, princess. All the dirt.”

I tell her about my mom’s job at the grocery store and how sometimes she got to bring home food that was about to spoil, and how we would try to cook with it, even when we didn’t know how. Things like broccoli soup—gross, or salmon soufflé—too fussy, or strawberry shortcake—which became a favorite.

I tell her about picking huckleberries in the woods behind the trailer park, eating so many my fingers and my tongue turned purple.

“Even my poop was purple,” I say.

She squeezes her eyes shut in a half-wince, half-laugh. “You’re making that up.”

“Nope. I even freaked out my mom.”

“I’ll bet. Quit making me laugh. If I have a crooked line, it’s going to be your fault.”

I tell Kirilee the story of how Shel and I broke a window by accident one time when we were playing midnight baseball with some of the other trailer park ruffians, but the memory of those kids and the trouble we caused, and what it led to, sends a warning spike through my gut, so I move on to the time a grizzly bear broke into our school lunchroom. Then I skip ahead to the earthquake that happened the fall of my junior year and how we hid under the desks while the walls shook.

“Get to…” She winces “The broken hearts.”

“All the dirt, huh?”

She smiles.

I tell her about when I got caught making out in the back row of the movie theater with my eighth-grade crush, Margaret Dunleavy. And about my first girlfriend, Allie Robinson, who broke up with me for a basketball player.

“How dare she?” Kirilee says, her eyes flashing. “Obviously she chose… wrong. Nobody likes… basketball.”

I laugh.

“Did you love her?” She coaxes a slow breath in and out.

“I thought so at the time. I was crushed when it happened.” But that was nothing compared how crushed I’ll feel when Kirilee marries someone else. How am I going to let her go?

Kirilee frowns. “Have you ever been in love? ”

My stomach takes a dive. I focus on her fingers and shuffle my feet. My answer is on the tip of my tongue, but I lock it away. Because there’s no way I’m thinking clearly right now.

She squeezes her eyes shut and tightens her grip on my fingers. Leif is finishing the lines on her rib and the vibrations are humming through her bones.

Leif swaps out one machine for another and eyes her. “You doin’ okay?”

Kirilee inhales a slow breath and nods. “Tell me how it looks,” she asks me.

“It’s fucking stunning.”

She smiles, but her eyes quickly turn apprehensive. “It’s going to show.”

“Kind of the point, isn’t it?” And if she wanted to keep it covered, a modest one-piece swimsuit would do the trick.

“My dress.”

I frown, and then it clicks. Fuck. That dress. “You have so much courage, Kirilee.”

She winces. I glance at Leif, but he’s completely focused on his work.

“They’re going… to hate it,” she says in between measured breaths, her mouth a round O.

“Good thing you didn’t do it to please them,” I say.

There’s trepidation in her eyes. Behind it is a quiet but steely determination. “Indeed.”

Leif clicks off the machine and sits back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Okay. All finished.” He slips off his gloves and reaches for a mirror.

Kirilee holds it up, and her lips part in awe. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Glad you like it.” Leif flashes her a proud grin.

“Yes. Oh my god. I can’t…” She swallows hard. “…believe it.”

Leif gives a low chuckle. “It takes some getting used to, but she’s yours for life.”

“That’s the best part.” Kirilee glances at Leif. “Thank you. ”

“Welcome,” he replies, beaming.

After Leif adds a bandage and details the aftercare and healing process, it’s time to go.

“Whoa,” Kirilee says when she sits up.

“Adrenaline crash.” I help her stand. “I got you.”

Kirilee hugs Leif, catching him off-guard, and they both laugh.

Outside, the little town is completely still, the shops closed. Clouds have moved in, obscuring the stars, and the chilly night air smells of snow.

Kirilee is quiet as we walk.

“How does it feel?” I ask.

She gives me a thoughtful glance. “It definitely hurts, but I kind of like it.”

“Being in pain?”

“It’s forcing the memory to sink deeper. Making it last longer. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” We turn the final corner. “No regrets, then?”

“None.”

Ahead, my truck looks lonely on the side street all by herself, the only light a faint glow from the main road.

“Thank you for being a part of it,” she says.

“It was an honor.” I give her sideways glance, and she smiles.

At my truck, I unlock it and help her inside, then cross over and jump in. But when I slide the keys into the ignition, she puts her hand on my thigh.

A charged heat passes between us. I think about what she just told me, about the memory sinking deeper because of the lasting ache. Is that why she’s already so deep in my heart? Because it’s breaking?

I exhale a slow breath and cover her hand with mine.

“What you said… before,” she says in a soft voice. “Is that what you’ve had to do too? Step into a future you can’t see?”

“In some ways, yeah.” Her hand is so delicate and smooth beneath mine. “Moving here was a little like that. ”

“No regrets?”

My skin prickles with heat. I turn a little to face her. “Not yet.”

She gives me a pained look. “What does that mean?”

“Right now, we’re here inside my truck. Just the two of us.” I caress down each of her fingers. Her rich cocoa scent has infiltrated my senses, and it’s making it hard to think. “But pretty soon you’re getting hitched to someone else.”

“Why is that your regret?”

I caress her hair off her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. Her emerald eyes seem to sparkle in the low light as she gazes up at me.

“Because it’ll mean I can’t do this.” I lean in and press my lips to hers.

Her lips are soft and plush, making the heat inside me explode.

“Sawyer,” she says when I finally release her, her voice tight with yearning.

I kiss her again, savoring the tender embrace of our lips and the way she’s leaning closer, like she wants more.

How long have I dreamed of giving her this kiss?

For too fucking long.

In one motion, I urge her onto my lap.

“Or this.” I cup the backs of her thighs and tug her closer. She shudders as our bodies come into contact. Only a few layers of fabric separate us, but I can feel her heat, her desire.

I caress under her hair to the back of her neck because I need her closer. We kiss again.

Her lips are silky smooth. And she smells so incredibly good. I tug on her lower lip, drawing out the kiss just a little longer. I want it to be gentle, and soft—so I don’t scare her—but the restraint is making me tremble and my breaths hitch in my chest.

What if this is the last time I’ll ever kiss her?

She kisses me back, making a soft little hum of pleasure that sends prickles all the way down to my toes. I kiss her again, my grip on her neck the only thing keeping me grounded.

I want to touch her, please her. Taste her. I want to watch her unravel before my eyes. Watch her let go. And then I want to hold her as she gently drifts back to me, sated and happy.

And eager for more.

Have I wanted anything else since I first laid eyes on her? Since I discovered how quickly she suppresses her desires in favor of everyone else’s?

Fuck, I want to see her unhinged. Free.

She rocks her hips, grinding where she’s soft and warm against where I’m hard and thick, adding delicious friction exactly where we both need it. I flick the tip of my tongue against her mouth like a question, and she answers by letting me inside. She grips my shoulders as our tongues dance a playful duet.

Our quickening breaths echo inside the truck, broken only by the sound of our lips and the shifting of fabric. The brush of her breasts against my chest sends a thrill across my skin. What I wouldn’t give for this kiss to lead where it should.

For the two of us to explore each other. To take our time.

Or not.

My thoughts tumble end over end as all the delicious possibilities flash inside my mind. A deep, intense craving is building inside me.

Fucking hell, do I want her. All of her.

A bright light blasts the cab, startling us both. Our fast breaths and the heat from our bodies has fogged up the windows.

Tires screech behind my truck and a door slams.

Kirilee glances out the window. “Oh no.” She scrambles off my lap. “It’s Birch.”

“What the…?” My words die in my throat when the passenger side of the truck is yanked open and Birch peers in.

“Kirilee?” He glances at her, then at me. “What the hell is going on?”

“Hey! Easy,” I bark.

He sends me an icy glare.

“What are you doing here?” Kirilee asks him. She’s pressed back into the seat, like she wants to stay away from him. My pulse taps hard in my temples.

“You didn’t answer your phone. We were worried sick. I found your car, and when you weren’t in it… we thought you’d been taken. Your parents were ready to call the police.”

Taken? That’s a little extreme. “Hey, look at that… she’s perfectly fine,” I say, staring him down.

“My fiancée spending the evening with you is far from fine.” He turns to Kirilee. “Come on. We’re going home.”

“I can get home just fine without you,” Kirilee says.

Cold fury flashes in his expression. “Shall I tell your parents I left you here with him ?” He jerks his chin in my direction. “Tell them what I learned?”

“Whoa!” I cry as alarm bells go wild in my brain. What the fuck is this shit? “Learned about what?”

“About the kind of person you are.” Birch’s lip curls in a kind of open-mouthed sneer, revealing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “What you’re capable of.”

“Okay, just hold on a minute.” I’m trying to make sense of this while my anger is quickly eating me up inside. Now I know who was snooping around in my truck. What exactly did Birch learn? How much has he shared with Kirilee? There’s no way he can know about my past…

Fuck.

“Stop, both of you.” Kirilee sends me an anxious glance. “It’s better if I go.”

My temples throb and an ache sizzles behind my breastbone. “How is that better?”

“Please,” Kirilee says, her lip quivering.

Birch opens the door wider.

“That’s really what you want?” I ask her.

She closes her eyes for an instant, then turns away and slips from my cab.

With one final scathing glare, Birch slams my door.