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.