Page 41 of Beautifully Reckless

I got a glimpse already, and I really don’t like what I see.

These clothes are not me.

I don’t actually mind the pinktint in my hair. It’s already faded a lot since I first did it, and in a few more washes I bet it will hardly be noticeable.

Even so. What I see isn’t me.

Shutting off the tap, Ringo dries his face using a hand towel before finally turning to me.

Widening his stance, he crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes raking over my face, my hair, and then down my body.

It’s like he’s seeing me for the first time tonight under these bright, unforgiving lights.

“You remember how you were wearing my hoodie and didn’t want to take it off, but couldn’t explain why?”

I frown at his question, nodding slowly.

“I remember.”

“Well, I need you in here with me for the same reason.” He unfolds his arms, stepping closer and crowding me against the vanity. “I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make sense. I just know that’s what I need.”

Reaching up, he pinches a few of my pink strands between his fingers before running them down to the ends.

“You look really beautiful with pink hair, Angel.”

I can’t breathe.

Like I actually think my lungs have stopped working.

“I’m not sure the clothes are you though.” His smirk breaks the moment, and finally, I remember how to breathe.

“I hate the clothes. So bloody much.”

Ringo chuckles. “Let’s see if Lexi has some you can borrow.”

I scoff.

“I doubt Lexi has anything that’ll go over my fat tummy.”

Ringo growls. “It’s not fat.” His gaze drops to the bump between us. “It’s beautiful.”

My cheeks burn and my gaze drops to his lips, remembering the times he kissed me. The way he kissed me. The way he owned me.

My tongue darts out, wetting my lips and my gaze shoots back to his, to find him studying me.

He knows exactly where my mind just went.

Would he kiss me again if I asked?

A loud thump on the door shatters the moment, and Ringo takes a step back, irritation flashing across his face.

“Stop fucking like rabbits and get out here, Ringo. We need to talk strategy.”

My brows shoot up and Ringo mutters under his breath, something that sounds a lot like‘fucking Devon’before he reaches for the door, jerking it open.

“Fuck off, Devil.”

Devon grins, leaning lazily against the door frame.

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