Deep (19 page)

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Authors: Kylie Scott

BOOK: Deep
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All very friendly. I just needed to adjust. Still. And damn it, tonight I would. Tonight, my crush on him came to an end. It had to. The man really was hell on my heart and loins.

“Remind me again why we’re here,” said Anne, slipping her arm around my shoulders.

“To party.”

“We’re here to party?”

“How could you doubt it?” I smoothed the big, flowy black T-shirt down over my small bump of a belly.

“So long as we’re not here to spy on Ben.”

I scoffed. “As if I’d do that.”

“’Cause you’re so over him.”

“Big-time. Huge. We’re friends.”

Anne made a humming noise. “Friends don’t let friends stalk their friends.”

“You and I aren’t friends, we’re sisters. Totally different.” My jaw cracked on a particularly large yawn. Ugh. This growing a baby stuff really took it out of you. “You have to suck it up and support me no matter what crackpot crap I do.”

“You two still sharing the suite but not the bedroom, huh?”

“Do you really want to know?” I asked, curious.

She sighed. “You’re pregnant with his baby. I give up. Of all the males I might have chosen for you, he’s not even remotely on the list. But at the end of the day, it’s your choice, not mine.”

I nodded, pleased.

“I just want you to know, you have options.” Just like when we were kids, Anne twirled a lock of my hair around a finger and gave it a tug. I slapped at her hand, same as I’d always done. She grabbed my fingers and held on tight. “Mal and I have been talking. However you want to do this, we’re happy to support you. Whether that’s move in with us or whatever.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And on the off chance you and Ben can’t work things out, you don’t need to worry about money.”

“Ben wouldn’t leave me hanging like that, Anne.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know. But trust me, I don’t need to worry about money.”

“No. You don’t.”

“Yeah, I really don’t,” I said, turning to face her. “He put six figures in my account before the tour started.”

“Huh.” The whites of Anne’s eyes were showing. “Good. This makes me think better of the bearded wonder.”

“Mm.” It was a step up from her calling him the Sperminator, at least.

We sat huddled together in a single large lounge chair, watching the postconcert party get going. When I’d moved into Ben’s two-bedroom suite, the party had changed location to the room of Down Fourth’s singer. He shared the smaller suite with his girlfriend, the band’s drummer. She’d been more than welcoming, if a little surprised, when we knocked on the door.

I had the worst feeling that Anne was right, though, and I shouldn’t have come. Not to this room, this tour, none of it. Also, apparently my mood currently registered around the shitty level. Shooty. No, that didn’t work. Crappy. Yes,
crappy
made for a suitable non-sweary replacement.

“I hate that I have to be looked after, that all of a sudden I’m no longer me, I’m a condition, a baby-making machine.” I leaned my head against Anne’s with a
Poor me
sigh. “Should have stayed in Portland and worked in the bookstore. I don’t belong here.”

“Of course you belong here. Don’t be a dolt.”

I gave her a half smile. “I sound pathetic. Quick, slap me with a wet fish or something.”

“If only I had one handy. This baby sure makes you an interesting person to be around. I never know what mood I’ll get next.”

“You have no idea. I need to get laid so bad … my dreams are just one endless stream of pornography.”

“Oh-kay. So go on, talk to me about him. I’ll try to be open-minded.”

“There’s not much to say.”

“You two looked pretty cozy when he stormed the castle to rescue you from your evil sister and brother-in-law.”

I raised my brows.

“Sorry,” she said. “When he pushed his way in because he was worried about you—kudos to him for caring—you two looked like you were getting on well. I take it this is no longer the case, since you’re clearly unhappy and we’re lurking here, waiting for him to appear.”

“We’re very polite. We’re always texting, he checks on me constantly, and if I need him he’s there. But … I don’t know. It’s not like we’re really saying anything. We share the same space but we’re living at a distance. He does his thing, I do mine. He gets up and goes, comes back in the early hours after drinking here with these guys.”

She frowned.

How to explain it? It was all such a mess. “Thing is, I can’t get over him when I’m living with him. The proximity doesn’t work. It just turns me into some perverted weirdo, hopped up on pregnancy hormones, sniffing his dirty laundry.”

“You sniffed his dirty laundry?” Anne gave me a look of much judgment.

“It was only a shirt.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Okay.”

“Anyway, it doesn’t feel right, the way things are. I invaded his private space, taking up the offer of moving in. It was a bad move. So I’ve been thinking about either heading home or getting my own room.”

“Don’t leave. Move back in with me and Mal. I promise we’ll keep the sex noises under control.”

“No way. I still get these horrible flashbacks of that night and wake up crying, terrified that some sexed-up howler monkey is going to attack me.” The sniggering—I couldn’t contain it if I tried. So I didn’t.

“Funny,” she said drily.

“Thanks. I amuse me.”

“I hate the thought of you being on your own.”

“I know. But I’m going to be a single parent, Anne. I am on my own, it’s a fact of life. Time I got used to it.” I shrugged. “I know you and Mal want to do what you can, and I appreciate it. I do. Bean’s lucky. She’s going to have an awesome extended family with all of you guys.”

“She really is.”

I gave Anne’s knee a friendly squeeze. “I’m glad we could talk about this. I’ve missed talking to you.”

“Sorry I was so judgy. It was just hard, with all our plans for you to study and everything.”

“Yeah, I know.”

We just about sat in each other’s laps we were so close. After the last few months, I think we needed it.

“I keep telling myself that he and I are just going to be friends,” I said, letting it all out, dumping the whole sorry story on her. “There’s a deeply stupid part of me that’s still holding out hope, however, that doesn’t quite want to accept it. I can’t sit in his hotel room waiting for him to come home so we can have some magical moment together that’ll fix everything and make it right. He and I are never going to be like that. I just have to accept it.”

My sister just stared at me. “You have real feelings for him, don’t you?”

I snorted. I don’t know, it just seemed ridiculous that she was still in denial after everything.

“Sorry. I guess I just always thought this was some crush you’d get over,” she said. “But it’s not.”

“No. But it’s way past time for me to move on. You’re right there. Hence we are here, waiting for him to make an appearance. I’ll see him in action, schmoozing with sexy women, and hopefully realize the depth of my silliness. Then I’ll tell him it’s time for me to go big and get my own room or go home.” I picked up my glass of lemonade from the coffee table and took a sip.

Anne cocked her head, studying me. “Are you in love with him?”

Good question.

“I just thought … maybe seeing him in action isn’t what you need,” she said. “Maybe taking a stand would work better.”

“Demanding he love me? I don’t think that would work.”

“Hmm. But back to the original question. Do you love him?”

“I’m not sure I even know what love is.”

“Does it hurt?”

Air was apparently in short supply. I stared at my sister, confused at the question and yet completely understanding. And that question—I didn’t want to answer it. I needed to concentrate on my definites. Bean. Being a mom. Things like that.

“Well?” she asked.

“Yes.” And god I hated it. The truth sucked.

Slowly Anne nodded, no smile on her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Anyway.” My smile felt so impossibly plastic. It was a wonder my face didn’t crack. “When he gets here, I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, party-party girl, that’s me. And I’ve got a feeling this one’s going to be an all-nighter.”

“It’s nearly midnight. I’m impressed you’ve managed to stay awake this long.”

“You’re only saying that because I’ve been asleep by eight o’clock every night this week.”

She smiled.

“You wait. Later we’ll go completely crazy and do shots of warm milk. It’ll be awesome.”

“Living on the edge.”

“I know, right?” I turned to look over my shoulder at my new, ever-present shadow. “You can do the honors and pour, Sam.”

“I’ll look forward to that, Miss Rollins.” The security man gave me an austere nod, never taking his eyes off the room. Damn it. He joked and smiled with the members of the band. I’d witnessed it with my own two eyes. Eventually I’d wear him down.

From out in the hall came the unmistakable wailing of He Who Shall Not Be Named. Stage Dive had finally arrived. Or some of them. Mal barreled into the room, searching for his mate, while Ben wandered in at a more sedate pace, chatting to a dude I didn’t recognize. Ben’s hair was slicked back, his beard neatly trimmed. I guessed he’d changed shirts after the show, because this one was a black button-down, neatly ironed. The cuffs were rolled up, the top few buttons undone.

He looked lovely. Hell, he looked like love. Harps, angels, all of it. God, I was a sap. I really had to get this under control, for my own sanity’s sake if nothing else.

The crowd suddenly seemed at capacity. I guess a lot of people had been hanging out downstairs in the hotel bar, waiting for the important people to arrive.

The mad drummer went down on one knee before Anne, holding out a hand. With a grin, she placed her fingers in his.

“Who is this unearthly creature I see before me?” he asked. “You dazzle my eyes, mysterious stranger. I must know who you are immediately.”

“I’m your wife.”

“Thought you looked familiar.” He kissed the back of her hand, turning to rest his spine against the bottom of the lounge chair, between her legs. “Fuck that was a long night. Adrian lined up an interview after the show. Next time the little butt-weasel does that, remind me to kill him.”

“You got it.”

“Work my shoulders please, Pumpkin,” he asked, cracking his neck. “I hurt.”

Anne started rubbing him down. “Book you a massage tomorrow?”

“You’re the best.” He gave me a pat on the knee. “Lizzy, you talking to me today?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said.

“Isn’t much of it left, baby momma. Better make up your mind.” He smirked. “Benny-boy know you’re here?”

“I don’t have to report my whereabouts to him,” I sputtered.

Mal laughed. “No? This should be interesting.”

“Tell him, Sam.” I chugged down my lemonade.

“Miss Rollins is a fully grown, independent adult,” the security man reported dutifully.

“Puh-lease,” said Mal. “Fifty says he hauls her ass out of here within the next five minutes.”

“You’re on.” Sam shook his hand.

Screw them both. If I had to choose, however, Sam would get the win. With no grace but with great purpose I wriggled and lifted, maneuvering my way up and out of the chair. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

“Oh now, c’mon. You can’t hide from him,” cried Mal. “That’s not fair.”

I just smiled.

“Benny-boy, look who’s here! Why, it’s sweet little Liz, and she’s up way past her bedtime. Don’t you think you should do something about that?”

The asshat. With swearing ruled out, I flipped Mal the bird. No way was he winning the bet. I’d talk to Ben when I was damn well good and ready. With all due haste, I ducked my head and made for the bathroom. The great thing about pregnancy is the way you basically always need to pee. It makes for such an awesome hobby. Sam took up guard duty outside as I opened the door and slipped in, shutting and locking it.

And wow, how about that. The bathroom was occupied.

“Hi.” I raised a hand.

“Liz, hey.” Vaughan laughed, one hand going down to cover his abundant essentials. “Guess I forgot to lock the door.”

My face was on fire. “Guess so. Sorry to barge in.”

“My bad. But good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.” And to see so very much of him. I stared, stunned. Whoa, the man was built. What this did to my already hormonally needy-in-the-sexwise charged state was a worry. “Yeah. Ha.”

“Been wanting to catch up with you. How are you?” he asked, running a spare hand through his wet hair, all relaxed-like.

“Good.”

“Heard you were sick,” he said.

“It was just a cold. I’m fine now. Feeling great.” And horny. Wildly horny. The boy didn’t understand how close to being attacked he was.

“That sucks. Glad you’re better.”

“Thanks.” As long as my eyes stayed on his face I was fine. It’d just been a while since I’d seen any downstairs action. No need for my cheeks to go thermonuclear. How uncool to get all fussed. Clearly the man himself had no such hesitation about nudity. “How’s the tour been going?”

“Great. Really good.”

“Excellent.” I studied the floor. “Yeah. Should I leave?”

“No, stay. Fuck knows when we’ll get another chance to talk alone.”

“Ah, okay, sure. You maybe want to wrap a towel around your waist or put on some pants?”

“In a minute. I want to ask you a question first,” he said, dimple flashing in his cheek. The man was seriously cute. Also, nice to know he was a natural redhead. I didn’t mean to look, it just happened. A bare, unintended glimpse when I first walked in. A real live naked man smiling at me invitingly—my body liked the notion all too much. Crazy-ass hormones.

“Shoot,” I invited, my face firing up yet again at the thought of his groin. Holy crap.

“You really pregnant?”

“Yes, I am.” I flattened the oversize shirt again over my belly. Soon there’d be no chance of hiding it.

“Damn. And I take it the daddy’s Ben, huh?”

My mouth stayed shut.

“Not so hard to figure out.” He reached for a towel off the rack, wrapping it around slim hips. “There’s tension between him and Mal, but no one’s saying why. Then you come on tour.”

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