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"No, I said that Riggs will kill him. You, of all people, know how possessive he is," Ears states.
I can't argue, but I don't know what else to do right now. I have no money. I firmly declare, "Noah's been kind enough to let me stay in his guest bedroom. Until my royalties come in, I have no other options."
Ears tilts his head, the crease in his forehead growing.
"What is that look for?"
"Riggs will give you money. He wouldn't want you to not have any," he claims.
"I don't want his money."
"You're married. It's yours too," Ears insists.
I put my hand over my face and breathe, trying to stop the queasiness in my stomach.
Ears suggests, "Let me talk to him for you."
I lock eyes with him. "And say what?"
He sighs. "You need money, superstar. You can't stay with Noah."
"I don't want to stay with Noah, but I have no other options," I assert.
"Let me work on your housing situation, then," Ears says.
I'm too drained to think. I finally nod. "Okay. Thank you."
"Great. Why don't you go into my office and try to sleep? I can pull the sofa out into the bed," Ears offers.
"No, thank you. I'm going to do my job," I assure him, then push past his large frame, not wanting to talk anymore. I go into the studio and into the recording booth.
For over an hour, I try to throw myself into my work, but it's almost impossible. My voice doesn't sound right. I'm unable to follow the directions I'm getting from Ears and Noah.
Rhonda finally comes into the studio and knocks on the window. I excuse myself and leave the room with her.
She says, "It's in the bathroom in the cabinet."
"Thank you," I reply gratefully.
She hands me a bottle of water.
I take it, go into the restroom, then close and lock the door. I find the box of pregnancy tests, take a deep breath, then down the bottle of water.
My pulse throbs so hard in my neck that I think I'll have a stroke. I follow the directions and unwrap the test. I pee on the stick, place it on the counter, and then set my timer on my phone.
Too many worries plague me. I pace the bathroom, trying to get Riggs's face out of my mind, but I can't. The alarm blares through the air, and I freeze.
This is it.
Please don't be pregnant,I chant to myself with my eyes closed at least a dozen times, with images of a little boy who looks like Riggs filling my mind and making my heart hurt more.
I force myself to look down at the stick, then pick it up and stare at it, with too many emotions exploding inside me like it's the Fourth of July.
2
Riggs Madden
My fist curls so tight I might break my knuckles. All I wanted to do was rush into the studio and pummel Noah in the face. He put his hand on my pet's back and escorted her into the studio as if she were his. If Ears's security guys weren't there and he hadn't already warned me that I wasn't allowed to get out of the car, I would've done it.
