Page 36 of Something Reckless

ALBA

L ate in the afternoon, my mom pops over to pick up Jagger. With Easton around now, she hasn’t had to babysit every day, like she normally does in the summer.

So when I told her I needed a sitter tonight, she jumped at the chance to hang out with her grandson.

As we stand in my living room chitchatting while Jagger grabs his stuff, I can’t help but notice how good she looks. She’s even dressed more like her old self, in nice jeans and a cute blouse. No more mismatched sweatpants.

“Did you get your hair done?” I ask, trying to hide my shock when I notice the highlights.

Mom reaches up to touch the ends of her hair. “Oh, I got it done the other day when I went out with Monica and Tammy. “You like it?”

“I do. It looks so good on you, Mom.” I give her a hug.

Right then, Jagger runs into the room and joins in. “Yay! Group hug!”

Laughing, Mom and I both squeeze him tightly in our little huddle .

“Bye, Mimi!” he calls as he leads the way to the door, lugging a big bag full of books and puzzles to take to Grandma’s house.

“Bye, Buddy. You be good for Grandma, okay?”

“Of course I will.” He frowns at me over his shoulder like it should be obvious. “I love you!”

“Love you, too, Jag.”

We grin at each other and speak in unison. “Twenty-four-seven. All the time.”

Jag doesn’t know that I’m hanging out with his dad tonight.

I sort of feel guilty about keeping that from him.

A part of me questions whether I’m doing the right thing.

I can’t let Jagger get hurt just so I can have a little selfish fun.

But Easton and I have vowed to be careful and to keep Jagger’s best interests at the forefront of our minds. That’s what’s most important.

Mom ushers the little boy out my door, but just before she closes it, she pokes her head back inside. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it. I’ll drop Jag off early in the morning.” Then she smirks. “Just remember to put a sock on the front door, in case you’re, y’know, knockin’ ‘em boots.” She winks.

“Mom!” I gasp, watching her sashay down the porch steps with a little pep in her movements.

Who is this woman and what has she done with my mother?!

I’m most surprised at the fact that, when I told her I would be spending time with Easton tonight, she didn’t try and talk me out of it.

She didn’t say much at all. If she’s not going to interrogate me about going to dinner with my sister’s supposed baby daddy, I’m not going to volunteer any information, either.

We’ll cross that awkward bridge some other time in the future .

I stand at the door for a few moments, collecting my thoughts. But then I get my butt moving, heading to my room.

I need to get ready for my date with Easton.

Oh my god. My date with Easton.

Squee!

Although I probably shouldn’t call it a date.I don’t really know what to call it.Our just-for-practice make-him-work-for-it friends-with-benefits spice lessons , maybe?I don’t know. Whatever it is, I am determined to look good tonight.

But the more I sort through the options in my closet, the more nervous I get. Damn. I have nothing to wear.

I try on outfit after outfit, feeling less certain after each one. I start taking pictures of each different look, sending them in my text message thread with Jules.

Me: HELP! Which one should I wear tonight?

Jules: Sry babe. None of the above.

My insecurities skyrocket. I send her a string of bawling emojis.

Me: Come over begging hands emoji

Jules: Oh, damn. Sorry. I’m at work now. I can’t come over.

Shit. I’m in this on my own.

Then another text comes through from my bestie.

Jules: Hold on. I have an idea.

I keep one eye on the clock as I continue trying to pull together a decent outfit. But I’m running out of time. Easton will be here soon and I still look like a mess.

My stomach is coiled into a tight ball when I hear the doorbell ring. I rush to the door, ready to tell Easton that this was a bad idea and to call the whole thing off.

But it’s not Easton standing on my front porch. It’s Laney. She’s holding a cluster of garment bags in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Fairy godmother to the rescue!” she announces.

I almost fall to my knees in gratitude. “I thought you were at work,” I squeak.

Laney shoulders her way past me, dropping the clothes on my bed and then marching in the direction of my kitchen. “My shift just ended. I was driving home and Jules called me.”

I clasp my hands over my pounding chest. “You guys are the best.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She pours herself a cup of stale coffee from my coffee pot and pops it into the microwave. Then she directs me to my bedroom. “Come on. Let’s Cinderella you up!”

Laney’s presence eases my nerves, and getting fancied up sort of becomes fun.

Exhausted after her twelve-hour shift, my friend is guzzling shitty coffee while she does my makeup and curls my hair and buffs my fingernails.

I pour myself a big glass of wine and let her work her magic, pretending I’m not silently freaking out.

“So, give me the details. Did you finally come to your senses and realize that Hockey Hottie is the one for you?” Laney asks as she plucks at an errant eyebrow with her evil tweezers.

I flinch in pain where I’m sitting on the edge of my bed. “Hardly.”

“Then why are you going on a date with him?” She frowns.

I shake my head. “It’s not like that. Easton found out that I hadn’t been with anyone— ever —and I think he feels bad. Maybe not like a pity-bad, but like he-thinks-it’s-his-fault bad? ”

“His fault, how?” my friend questions. She’s applying press-on fingernails to my chewed-up little stubs now. I’m not sure this is a good idea.

“Well, I’ve been taking care of Jagger all these years, and he feels like that should have been his responsibility. Either way, he sort of offered to let me…explore with him. No strings attached. Nothing serious. Just…exploration.”

Laney squeals in delight. “That is so fucking hot.”

I roll my eyes. “I hate how inexperienced I am. And with Easton…despite all the years where we fell out of contact, our friendship seems to be picking up right where we left off as teenagers. He’s probably the one guy in the world that I trust implicitly.

So, this way, I’ll learn some new things and get to satisfy some curiosities, while still feeling safe. ”

“Not a bad deal for getting all your wildest fantasies fulfilled,” Laney suggests, her eyebrows comically bouncing up and down.

I feel my ears burning. “Yeah. I guess so.” I pause. “Do you think this whole thing is kind of sleazy?”

“Hell no,” Laney says. “You deprived yourself of years of fun so that everyone else could live their best lives. Now, you get yours.” She winks. “And who knows—maybe this thing with Puck Daddy could lead to more than just a few sexy nights…”

Not wanting to smudge my fresh lipstick, I resist the urge to gnaw on my lip. “It’s too…complicated.”

Laney stands back, observing the finished product and looking very proud of herself. “Well, this dress is about to un-complicate things, sister.”

She pushes me in front of the mirror and I blink at myself, barely recognizing this new version of me.

Wow—I look…good.

It’s been a long time since I wore a nice dress, and this little red number is bringing out curves and angles I didn’t even remember I had.

I smooth my hands over my tingly stomach. Yet again, I ask myself if I’m doing the right thing.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” I mumble, eyeballing my reflection skeptically. “It’s very…red.”

My friend waves me off dismissively. “Yes! It’s the perfect shade. It says ‘sex’. It says ‘seduction’. It says, ‘giving blowjobs is my superpower’.”

And maybe that’s precisely the problem. Giving blowjobs is not my superpower. In fact, I don’t know a damn thing about giving blowjobs.

Now, I’m freaking out even more.

But right then, the doorbell rings and I’ve officially run out of time to change my mind. Squealing again, Laney runs down the hall to get to the door first. I shake my head, trailing behind her as she swings it open and crowds the doorway.

Staring past her shoulder, I blink in a daze.

Easton Raines is standing under my porch light, wearing a navy blue suit that looks like it was custom designed for his delicious six-foot-five frame.

Hell—it probably was.

The man looks painfully good.

“Hey. Laney, right?” he asks.

My friend just stares and nods. Hell—I don’t blame her. As good as he looks, Easton has the power to render even the most confident woman speechless tonight.

He’s so, so tall. He’s wearing the hell out of that suit. Plus, that dazzling smile. And those dimples. And those muscles. And that perfect silky, shiny hair flopping over his forehead.

My friend is openly swooning, so stunned by Easton’s hotness that she forgets to behave civilly and invite the man inside.

When she says nothing further, his eyebrows rise questioningly. “Um, is Alba ready?”

Laney stares and nods some more.

For crying out loud . I step forward, nudging her out of the way.

That’s when Easton’s eyes fall on me and his jaw unhinges. He looks downright breathless at the sight of me. He blatantly checks me out from top to bottom. Then our eyes lock and I feel heat rush to my cheeks.

“Hi…” I say, my tone doing nothing to hide how jittery I feel.

“You look so beautiful, Alba,” he says, his voice low and rough.

I blush even harder. I reach up to adjust my glasses—a nervous tic of mine—but since I’m wearing my contact lenses tonight, I almost stab myself in the eye with my awkward new fingernails. Oops!

I quickly play it off, smiling at Easton. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He clears his throat. “Are you ready to go?”

My head bobs slightly. “Y-yes.”

Laney hands me my purse and then gives me a little push toward the door.

“Good night, Laney.” Easton pats my friend on the shoulder, his eyes coasting over me again from head-to-toe.

“Welp—I’m pregnant now,” Laney mutters, shivering visibly. Then she slaps a hand over her mouth. “Oops!”

I snort a laugh. “Lock up for me?” I ask her as I descend the steps on wobbly legs.

“Of course,” she promises as Easton carefully guides me down the staircase, my palm clasped firmly in his. “You two have a good night now,” Laney calls out, a devilish tone in her voice.

“Oh, we will,” I hear Easton say with a delicious promise hidden in his words. A shiver runs down the length of my spine.

How does he make me feel this way? It’s foreign and it’s overwhelming.

Laney yells her goodbyes. When I glance back, there’s lots of winking and thumbs-ups behind Easton’s back, as he leads me to his car.

The man walks me all the way to the passenger side and opens my door for me, helping me inside. Once he’s closed my door and is walking around to his side, I take a shaky breath.

I don’t know—I think tonight’s gonna be a good night.