Owned (Rockstar Romance) (Lost in Oblivion Book 5) (2 page)

“End of April.”

Huh, so she was already pretty well along. That was good news. “Wow, and she’s not even showing yet? Last time she looked like she had a damn watermelon under her shirt.”

“Notice I’m ignoring you?”

“Used to it.”

“We’re having a girl. We just found out yesterday, so Jazz got the women together tonight to tell them. She figured on telling the guys together later, or that I would.”

“The women?” Nick frowned. “As in my woman too?”

“Is she not part of the family?”

“Yes, she is, but baby stuff…” He trailed off and stared at the ring box. That feeling of a noose tightening around his neck had to be psychological. Funny how it matched the sudden deflation of his balls.

He’d been all geared up for a night alone with Lila, fulfilling her fantasies before he popped the question when she was too sated to say no. He hoped.

Now his dick was ready to retreat back behind an impermeable layer of latex.

“Baby stuff is part of life for a lot of people. You want to marry Lila, right?”

“Yeah.” No, his voice didn’t sound squeaky. He was just imagining things.

“Have you thought about what happens if she says yes and you actually, you know, tie the knot?”

“Yes. We legally bang all the time and if anyone else looks at her sideways, I have the right to kick their ass.”

Gray laughed. “Okay, fine, but what about the family part?”

“She is my family, and I’m hers. As for the rest—” Nick swallowed a sigh. “I’m in denial, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much,” Gray said cheerfully. “You know Lila wants children. Jazz told you as much last Christmas. If you want to marry her, you need to face reality.”

“I could be infertile.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say that hopefully before.”

Nick laid down on the bed. Maybe he was being a little overdramatic, but he was alone—other than the infernal cat, Spot, who only seemed to like him half the time and was probably stalking his ankles from under the bed like she normally did—so he was allowed. “Yes, okay, I know Lila wants kids. Someday. In the far off future.”

“Far off isn’t that far off when you’re ready now.”

“How do you know you’re ready?”

A wail sounded in the background and Gray exhaled. “Hang on a second. Dylan bumped his head on the cabinet door.”

Nick mumbled a response, then hit the phone on the side of his head.

Dear God, that wasn’t
him
asking about being ready for children. He might as well trade his boxers in for a thong at the rate he was going.

Wedding rings and baby talk. Who was he becoming? What had he done?

Nothing yet, he reminded himself, tucking the ring into his jeans pocket. Putting it safely out of sight. He hadn’t broached the subject with Lila. He’d better find out what her feelings on babies were before he sprung the whole marriage topic on her.

It wasn’t that he was totally against the idea of children. They could be cute, and there were a few he even sort of liked. Including Dylan, Gray and Jazz’s one-year-old son, and Lexi, Deacon and Harper’s one-year-old daughter. Then there was Axl, his old bandmate Snake’s kid with Chloe, a woman Nick had also, erm, hooked up with back in the day. Way back, when his balls had barely dropped.

Lila was none too fond of Chloe or her connection to Snake, and that wasn’t entirely Chloe’s fault. She’d been the co-star of some completely innocent pictures that Lila’s stepson had decided to send to Lila to—

Ah, hell, who even knew why that creeper Michael had sent the pix? Nick had cleared the air with him somewhat over the summer about the whole situation, but he still didn’t fully know the guy’s motivation. Michael had told Lila it was all some misunderstanding born out of wanting to help her. Sure. More like wanting to bang her.

Nick couldn’t even totally blame the guy. Lila was smokin’, and she was barely older than Michael. Hot stepmother fantasies were a very real thing. Weird and unsettling, but real.

Nowadays Lila tolerated Chloe—and her baby—coming around, but not well. In the interest of full disclosure, Nick told Lila how he’d given Chloe money to help with expenses, since Snake had once been a good friend. One of his best friends.

Yeah, his track record with those kind of sucked ass, didn’t it?

But Axl was pretty adorable, in a squirmy, whiny sort of way. He was almost eight months old, and he’d gurgled something that sounded suspiciously like “Da” the last time Nick saw him, so he’d promptly taken a break from Axl visits.

Not that he expected the break would last long. It was almost Christmas, and Nick had bought a metric shit ton of stuff for the kid. All kinds of fun toys that he would love. Like a mini guitar, and a basketball set, and okay, so Axl wasn’t old enough to use any of those yet, but in a couple years he would be.

Boys he understood. Women—even the tiniest members of the species—were like alien life forms. So if he could order a boy child, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He wouldn’t mind a mini Nick. Someone who’d like the same video games, and who would never bitch about him liking pepperoni, sausage,
and
bacon on his pizza.

Best of all, he’d probably side with his father against his mother, because Lila already had an unfair advantage on account of being the original Dragon Lady. Nick was always outvoted, just because she was so ultra-reasonable all the time.

“Sorry,” Gray said, coming back on the line. “He’s got a bump. Jazz is gonna kick my ass for turning my back on him for even a second.”

There it was, the reality check. The bucket of cold water over his head. Having a boy kid wouldn’t be about playing
Halo
and chowing down pizza and having someone to clown around with. He’d need to watch the child at all times. He would have to be a psychologist, so he could interpret whatever the kid said and translate it into the truth. He’d have to be a disciplinarian and not a friend. And he’d have to tell the kid important stuff about life.

Like never start a band with a shithead so-called pal who would screw you over for reasons he refused to tell you ten years down the line.

Most importantly, he would have to make sure his son knew he would never leave him. Never turn his back on him or think he was less than. He’d always make sure he knew he was loved, no matter what kind of fuckup idiot he acted like. Because of course, he’d do fucked up things. That was part of being a man and growing up.

And one day, maybe he’d even want to marry a girl and he’d have to ask someone for advice on how to do it. Maybe that someone would be Nick.

God help them both.

“Is Dylan okay?” Nick sat up and rubbed his fingers over the box in his pocket. It pressed against his thigh, reminding him of its weight at every second.

“He’ll be fine. Getting banged up a bit is normal toddler stuff. He’s not even crying anymore, just sucking on a grape popsicle.” Gray chuckled.

“Food as bribe?”

“Hey, it works. And you asked how do you know when you’re ready to be a parent. I didn’t think I was the least bit ready. I’d just gotten out of rehab, and I could barely take care of myself. But then Jazz told me she was pregnant, and it was like a whole new world opened up. I had to become better than I was, for him. Because he was worth it. While I was getting better for him, I improved for me too. Loving him and loving my wife gave me a purpose that I guess I hadn’t had in quite that way before.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, sounds emo.”

It didn’t, not at all, which was what worried Nick most. “I understand the wife part. I get that.”

“Then you’ll probably get it for a kid too. If you’re meant to have them. Wanting isn’t always enough. Jazz and I have been lucky, but not everyone is.”

“I have to do it for Lila.” Nick set his jaw. “She wants one, so I have to deliver.”

One child he could probably handle. Maybe. With some time to think about it and wrap his head around the idea.

A couple decades might be long enough. Perhaps.

Gray snorted. “It’s not a pizza, man. Besides, if you’re only doing it to make her happy, you’re better off being honest and explaining to her you just don’t think the dad thing is for you. At least not yet.”

“I didn’t think the husband thing was for me either, yet here I am.” Nick withdrew the box from his pocket and set it beside him on the tidy navy blue bedspread with little white checks. Lila had purchased it so the room would feel more “manly” for him. Hounds-something or other she’d called the pattern.

She’d made lots of little concessions for him, including the whole moving-in thing before maybe she was strictly ready. She’d only been divorced for not quite a year. This whole marriage and kid plan might be way beyond her scope. Only one way to find out—an open, honest conversation.

God, he hated those.

“Talk to her, figure out if you’re going the same direction. Then you’ll know how you should propose.”

Gray didn’t say the rest, but Nick heard it just the same—
if
you should propose.

“Yeah.” Nick jerked to his feet. He’d taken a couple steps away from the bed before he remembered the ring. He pivoted and grabbed the box, then returned it to its rightful place in his sock drawer. “Thanks, man. And congratulations again to you guys. Hope you’re happy.”

“We are. Very. Thanks. You’re still going to sit for us next weekend, right? You and Lila, I mean?”

“Couldn’t get the part about Lila out fast enough. God forbid I be left alone with a damn baby.”

“You said it, not me.” Gray’s cheery voice set Nick’s teeth on edge. “Jazz and I have been looking forward to getting out alone together forever.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re still in. But the weekend after that we’re heading to New York until after the holidays, so you’re going to have to lug the kid with you if you decide to party for New Year’s.”

“Did you miss the part that Jazz’s preggo? New Year’s partying is probably going to consist of some sparkling grape juice and watching the ball drop on TV.”

“So, ah, um, sex,” Nick blurted.

Gray laughed. “If you need help with that, son, we’ve officially reached the end of the line.”

“No, jackass, I mean the whole pregnant thing and sex. Is it like off-limits? Or restricted?” If he was going to consider things, he should have all the information so he could make an educated decision.

Ah, to hell with it. Soon as he got off the phone with Gray, he’d just order a damn book off Amazon. Something he could read in small bites that wouldn’t send him searching for an emergency script for an anti-anxiety drug.

“Sex is fine during pregnancy, unless there are special risks or if the woman is uncomfortable, obviously. Why, planning ahead?”

Nick shut the dresser drawer harder than necessary. “I’m just being a concerned friend. Don’t want you to break a hand or anything right before the band gets back together.”

“Uh huh. I’m certain you’re just concerned about me.”

Nick rubbed his thumb along his scruffy jaw. He’d been trying unsuccessfully to write a song for half the day, ever since that morning’s guitar student had trudged home, spirit broken after a stiff lecture on taking music seriously. He needed a shave. Needed to stop thinking so hard about the future, when the sound of the front door being opened meant that it was time to focus on the present.

“We’ll see you next Friday night. And uh, congrats again. ‘Kay, bye.” He clicked off and tossed the phone in the general direction of the bed before walking out to meet Lila.

Who just happened to be toting two paper sacks of groceries while wearing icepick heels that immediately reminded him why even going two weeks without sex with her would probably kill him.

Even her
calves
were an indescribable turn-on.

“Let me take those.” He moved forward to snatch the bags and thrust his face down into the first one, right into a round of still-warm bread. “Oh shit, freshly baked? I’m going to come right here.”

“Not on my kitchen floor you’re not.” She took back one of the bags and set it on the counter, then began efficiently removing items and putting them in their proper places. He set the other bag beside hers and grabbed a stool on the opposite side of the counter, helpless against the urge to just stare like a horny puppy.

After a year together, this shouldn’t still be happening, he was almost sure. Sex was supposed to become routine at some point. Just smelling her fresh-scrubbed apple scent shouldn’t make him harder than the granite that topped the counter.

When she withdrew a jug of apple cider, something he knew she had to search out for him specifically and never fully approved of unless it was from her family’s orchard, he narrowed his eyes. Clearly, he’d had his head too far up his ass. Cider meant she was buttering him up before she zoomed in for the kill.

“I insulted Simon numerous times on Twitter,” he said, which was still better than the other thing hovering on his tongue.

I want to marry you and I’d like to have a baby—a single male one, please—sometime in the far future, long after I’ve ascertained I won’t have to go without sex for more than forty-eight hours at a stretch. Maybe seventy-two hours if we marathon fuck first.

He’d already begun imagining being on tour without her, and that sat badly enough. She was Oblivion’s manager, but they’d have a road one for the next tour. Lila would come out for a few selected dates, true. She still wouldn’t be around nearly enough, and the idea of going from city to city without his girlfriend hit him all wrong. They’d be doing an album before another tour, so it wasn’t like he’d have to worry about it for months. Still, he wanted this figured out now.

Or as close to now as possible, once he drew up his attack plan.

Bottom line, she should be his wife. He needed to be able to look down and see that gold band on his finger and remember everything he had waiting for him at home. Not that the ring would encapsulate all of that, but fuck, he wanted to make promises to her. Wanted her to make them to him.

It was just that one male child—who had somehow taken on the visage of a chubby gold Buddha doll in his mind—standing in his way.

Lila continued putting away groceries as if she hadn’t heard him. While he watched, she took down a skillet and began tearing apart hunks of vegetables—broccoli to start—with a zest he might’ve appreciated if he hadn’t feared the hair from his head might be next.