Page 25 of Beautifully Reckless

“Abs, please,” he rasps, his lips brushing close to my ear, his beard grazing my skin, making my breath hitch. “Remember how you needed to tell me something from your past, but it was so hard? How you really didn’t want to take yourself back to that dark place in order to have the conversation?”

I stiffen, because I remember exactly how that felt.

I remember the fear, the shame, the way my stomach had twisted into knots. How I wanted to throw up.

“The reason I don’t want to havethisconversation,” Ringo continues, “is becausethisisthatsort of conversation.”

Shit.

The pain in his tone slices straight through my chest.

“But I will, Angel.” His grip around me tightens ever so slightly. “For you, I will… if you’ll just let me explain.”

Shit. The agony lacing his tone matches the pain I saw in his eyes moments ago, and all I want to do is turn in his arms and wrap mine around him and never let go.

But that’s my emotions trying to rule me. I need to be smart.

Shifting in his hold, he loosens his grip, allowing me to take a step away to face him, and the moment I see his face, I regret it.

He looks so shattered. Torn. Like he’s barely keeping himself together, and hell, it hurts seeing him like this.

Ringo gestures to the loveseat nearby, so I take in a calming breath, and move over to it, lowering myself down and trying to get comfortable despite the thick tension between us.

Glancing around the space, Ringo’s gaze lands on the low coffee table Lexi jumped over earlier to get to me, and he moves to it, dragging it closer until it’s right in front of me.

Then he sits on it.

It brings us close, his legs manspread, his thighs brushing mine as he rests his forearms on his knees.

God, I’ve missed him.

I don’t understand how that can be. I was with him for a little over a week, yet it felt like a month or longer. Maybe even a lifetime.

For a long beat, Ringo just stares at me. The weight of his gaze makes me squirm, before a warm smile tugs at his lips, but never reaches his eyes.

“When I saw you…” he starts, his voice quiet and strained.

He inhales deeply, as if he needs to brace himself.

Then his gaze flicks to my baby bump, and he clears his throat, preparing to speak again.

“When I saw you pregnant, I didn’t seeyouanymore, Abs.”

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

He nods, like he expected that. Like he’s already bracing for the next part.

“I didn’t see you, Angel. I saw my ex. Kylie.”

My eyes widen.

Kylie?

His ex-girlfriend.

It takes me a moment to figure out why, but then it clicks.

“She was pregnant?”

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