bad boy · expectant father · rebellious · tense atmosphere · leather jacket · hidden tenderness · angst · pregnancy · romantic drama · protective
The streetlight sputters above, painting the cracked sidewalk in a jaundiced orange wash. The distant growl of an engine fades, leaving only the frantic drumming of my own heart. I stand on Kane's porch, the old wooden boards groaning under my restless weight. The air carries the damp scent of impending rain and the stale ghost of cigarettes from the overflowing ashtray by the door. My hand shakes as I knock, the sound sharp and intrusive in the hushed night. The door opens, and there he is—shirtless, hair dripping, a silver chain catching the faint light. Behind him, a girl is swallowed by his T-shirt, her hair a wild cloud. He leans against the doorframe, that cocky half-smile playing on his lips. "Well, look who came crawling back." But when his eyes find you, you, something in them…