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“You’re that girl,” he said in amazement.
I nodded. I would be any girl he wanted me to be if he was the gatekeeper between Roman and me. “Sure, yeah. Is Roman here?”
Cash looked at me strangely and stepped back. “Do you want to come in and check?”
He was standing there shirtless, holding the door. There wasn’t enough space between him and the wall to get through without brushing against him, especially now I had a bump—I’d officially “popped,” and it was inconvenient as all hell.
But I wasn’t going to be deterred, so I took a deep breath and nodded. “That would be awesome.”
I held my chin high as I went into the room, my body brushing his. He was different from Andrew—his chest was covered in hair and rippled with muscles. Andrew was a lanky boy compared to this man, whose stomach wasn’t flat, but it wasn’t fat either.
I bit my bottom lip as a whimper crawled up my throat when my ass brushed against his crotch. I wasn’t the only one with a discernable bump under my clothes, and now all I could think about was getting my hands on his. Everything else about this pregnancy was horrible. I didn’t need the pregnancy hormones jumping out at the worst possible moment. But God, what I would do for a good romp in the hay.
I finally got past and turned to find him smirking at me. If this was a test, I must’ve passed. Walking further into the room, I was disappointed Roman wasn’t there. The tray of drinks was, though.
I pointed it out. “Are you expecting company?”
Cash glanced at the tray. “No. I was about to take it over to … my bandmate’s room.” He spoke slowly like he realized if he said “Roman,” I’d ask to go with him. Which I did.
“I can help out.” I offered him my best smile.
He sized me up. “Looks like you’re carrying enough there. I don’t want to add to it.” He walked past me and picked up the tray.
Our eyes met for a moment, and the whole room stopped moving while I tried to remember to breathe.
Cash put the tray down again. “Do you really think the baby is Roman’s?”
“Cutting to the chase, are we?” I said with a sigh, looking at my stomach. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. You probably don’t want to believe it, being his friend and whatever. I’m sure most of the girls who throw themselves at him are a bit more … free-spirited … than I am, but I haven’t been with anybody besides him. That night is the only one that makes sense.”
Cash frowned as he stared at me, processing this for a minute. “Come on, then, I’ll take you to him. But I should warn you, he’s probably in no condition to be having a conversation if tonight is anything like last night, the night before that, and every night for the last nine months. He’s probably got enough alcohol in his bloodstream to be a hundred proof.”
I processed what he’d said. I mean, I’d seen it myself. I knew what condition he was in the night we slept together.
So, if this was the kind of guy he was, did I want him to be the father of my child?
Well, I didn’t have a choice, did I? But at the very least, he could pay child support. That’s all I’d ask because I certainly wasn’t going to be able to cover the baby’s expenses with my job at the grocery store.
“Why does he party so hard?” I asked as Cash picked up the tray again.
He looked at me and shrugged. “That’s the million-dollar question. I guess he’s haunted by something he doesn’t want to discuss. The only person who knows the answer is Hunter Moore, who fucked off to someplace called Pleasant Lake, ruining his career.”
My face lit up slightly. “I know where Pleasant Lake is.”
Cash lifted an eyebrow as he walked to the door. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, it’s only thirty miles from where I live. Hunter Moore is a bit of a legend. That’s how I got into Roman in the first place. Before they were big-big, they did this show in Pleasant Lake, and after that, I was hooked.”
I got lost in my thoughts for a second, remembering that night. Cash wasn’t wrong. The Roman from then was very different from the Roman I met six months ago. “Come on, let’s go. Maybe I’m wrong.”
As we walked out, Cash gave me a look that said he didn’t think so, especially after Roman had already announced my ban at all future venues.
Cash head toward the elevators and hit the down button. The door slid open, and Cash held it for me. He pulled out a key card, swiped it, and hit a button.
“So, why do you bring your own drinks to the party?” I asked, leaning back against the wall as we waited for the elevator to descend.
“They’re all mocktails,” Cash said, nodding to the tray. “I bring them to the party to pretend to drink. Nobody is the wiser, but really, it’s just pop.”
He held one out to me as I took a sip. He was right. It was just Coke—the liquid kind.
