Free Every Second With You by Lauren Blakely Page B

survive it.”
    “We just have to hope. We have to hope for the best. Because there are no promises.”
    “I don’t want to be scared, though. I don’t want to live each day remembering how awful it was to lose them.”
    “So don’t, Trey,” I say, meeting his gaze, and not letting go. I place a hand on his cheek, so he has to look at me. “Make a choice. Make a choice to live going forward. We don’t get to have a protective suit.”
    “Some days I just want to escape.”
    “And when you feel that way, you need to talk to me, okay?” I grasp his hands harder for emphasis.
    He squeezes back and nods. “I will.”
    “One day at a time, right? Isn’t that what they all say?”
    “Yeah, but sometimes the fear feels so insurmountable, and I want to be strong for you.”
    “You are strong, Trey. You are.”
    “And then there’s the whole matter of, you know, being twenty-one and having a kid.”
    “This isn’t what I would have chosen for us. Not now, at least. But it’s our reality, and we have to deal with it,” I say, then a dark thought crosses my mind and I tense and pull away. “Wait. You didn’t come here to end it with me?”
    He stares at me like I’m a puzzle that makes no sense. “Seriously? Did you seriously ask that?”
    I nod, jutting out my chin. “Yes. I seriously asked that.”
    “Let me ask you a question. Do I look insane?”
    I pretend to inspect him, peeking behind his ear, checking out his face. “No.”
    “Then no. Never. You’re not getting rid of me. Because here’s the thing you need to know. I’m in love with you, and that’s a package deal. And that means no matter what, I’m by your side. Whatever happens, I’ll be here. I’m not the kind of guy who walks away. I might be scared out of my fucking mind, but I’m not running. You’re stuck with me, Harley,” he says, and shoots me another lopsided grin that makes my stomach flip.
    I snort. “Well, we’re definitely stuck together now.”
    He slides his hand under my shirt, feathers his fingers against my belly. “Yeah, we are.”
    “But you really hurt me the other night in your kitchen, and you can’t do that again. You can’t have sex with me like I’m not important,” I tell him, pressing my hand against his strong chest.
    “I know. I won’t. I promise,” he says, his eyes locked with mine, so sincere.
    “I’m not a drug, Trey. I’m your girlfriend, and I’m going to be the mother of your child, now. I don’t talk to you like I did my clients, so you can’t talk to me like you did.”
    “I won’t. I swear.”
    “I believe you,” I say. “I just don’t want to be like them. I wish there was a position or something you’ve never done with anyone else. That could be just for me. But that’s stupid.”
    “It’s not stupid, Harley. It’s just I’ve done a lot, and you know that. It’s not fair to ask for that.”
    “I know,” I say in a low voice. “It doesn’t matter. Forget I said it. Besides, I don’t feel like talking anymore.”
    “What do you feel like doing?”
    “Making up,” I say, then I kiss him, and even though his lips have touched mine countless times, it feels like our first kiss, all over again. But a new first kiss, a kiss that comes from knowing someone and hurting someone and loving someone and promising you’ll do everything not to hurt them again.
    He kisses me slowly, taking his time, sliding the tip of his tongue across my lips, parting them. There’s something both sweet and dirty in how he kisses me, like it’s a kiss and a teaser of all the other things he can do with his tongue, all the ways he touches me. I moan as he kisses me, roping my arms around his neck, tracing the soft ends of his hair. Then the kiss becomes more urgent, a desperate kiss because we need each other so much.
    His hands are all over me, moving from my neck to my shoulders down to my wrists, and every place he touches me sets off a fresh wave of goosebumps. By the time he