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I bit my lip.
No, that wasn’t the right thing to do. They were done with me, remember? Leaving my form gasping in the dirt, like I wasn’t good enough.
Plus, I’d just had my Come to Jesus moment. I was okay with it now. I’d live because the most special gift of all was growing in my belly.
Except my conscience stirred then. Because what kind of woman would I be if I never told these men about their child? If the baby was the most precious person to me in the world, then wouldn’t they want to know as well? After all, she was part me, but also part them. Didn’t they deserve to know?
I paused for a moment, biting my lip. On the one hand, I wanted to keep the baby to myself because it was less hassle. Life would be hard financially for sure, but I’d live. Many single moms raise happy, successful children and I was determined to do my best for the little darling.
On the other hand, every child deserves to know their father, right? Or their fathers, plural, in this case? At some age, the questions would start. Who was he? How did you meet him? And worst of all, why didn’t he want me?
That’s what turned the tide. Because I didn’t want my child to think that he was unwanted. This baby was a blessing in every way, and I wanted to give him the chance of knowing his fathers so long as they were amenable.
So with a determined chin, I turned towards my closet. It’d been a long time since I’d worn anything more than stained sweats, but it was time to do better, both for myself and for the baby growing in the belly. There was an A-line number, floral and sweet, that would do the trick. It would cover my growing belly, masking my pregnancy for a little while at least.
Because I was going to see Alpha Prime. My lovers, the light of my life, even after this difficult time.
Nick, Mason, and Trent. I could taste the names on my lips, so close and yet so far at once. And although I should have been trembling with fear, instead my heart leapt in anticipation because in my heart of hearts, I still loved them. Yes, the passion had run high, but the four of us were more than that. We had experienced something real and genuine … and I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d felt it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nick
“Is that my guitar?”
A rough growl rose out of my throat like I was a pit bull about to attack.
Trent snarled right back. “So what, bitch?”
Usually I didn’t care when any of the guys borrowed my shit, but anger was clawing at my soul like a she-devil struggling to get out. A fight would help extinguish the rage growing inside me. It was a rage that had been growing since Katy left.
Since she left? Because that wasn’t true. We left her.
It was the shittiest thing we had ever done.
“Come get some,” I snarled at my band-mate.
Mace was someplace in the giant penthouse hotel suite, but I couldn’t see him. His judgmental stare was practically tearing a hole in my skin. My fists balled up. I was going to give him a fat lip if he looked at me the wrong way.
Sweat ran down my back and chest, soaking into the waistband of my jeans and
into the deepest recesses of my pelvis. The Madison Square Garden concert was incredible. It was barely thirty minutes ago, and yet the high was already gone.
I could still hear the girls’ screams ringing in my ear.
Hungry and wild, wanting more. My hands should have been rubbing with glee at the cash the reaction promised. And yet all I could think was, why can't they leave us alone?
After all, the ladies paid to see us for two or three hours of music. Easy enough right? But without Katy, nothing’s been the same. We don’t get high off the women’s screams. We don’t care about the show, the venue, or anything really. All we care about is our sweet, lost girl.
Unfortunately, being back in New York City brought back unwanted memories.
Trent turned toward me, aggression and fury in every line of his face.
“Give me my shit!” I shouted at him, grabbing for my guitar.
“Come get it!” he taunted, like we were two year olds fighting over a toy.
“Shut the fuck up, you two!” Mason snarled from behind us.
