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  The bus pulls into Kacen and Logan’s long driveway and the four of us are on our feet. I can’t wait to sleep in a full-size bed and take a long hot shower. Sure, the showers on the bus and even at the stadiums are hot, but we’re always rushed, needing to be at our next destination or someone’s waiting their turn.

  “Make yourselves at home,” Logan says.

  “Night,” Kacen says over his shoulder, pulling his wife behind him.

  “Fucker’s whipped,” Gavin laughs.

  “Yeah, but it’s good to see him happy. Cole too,” I add.

  “You next?” he asks.

  “I thought you were,” I counter.

  We both laugh, neither of us willing to answer the question.

  “See your ugly mug in the morning. That big-ass bed is calling my name.”

  “Night, fucker,” I say to his back as he disappears upstairs.

  I wait a few minutes before reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone.

  Me: You up?

  Lauren: Yeah, haven’t been home long. How was the show?

  Me: Good. Wish you could’ve been there.

  Lauren: Me too.

  It’s then that a thought hits me.

  Me: You up for some company?

  Lauren: Where would you tell them you’re going?

  I hate that she wants to keep us… this… whatever it is, this friendship we have a secret. I know Logan, and she would be fine with it, but Lauren is still not convinced.

  Me: Everyone is asleep.

  Lauren: I’ll send you my address

  When her next text comes in, I save her address under her contact in my phone. You never know when something like that might come in handy. I wait a painstaking ten full minutes before quietly stepping out on the front porch and calling a cab, instructing them to pick me up at the end of the driveway just to be sure I don’t wake anyone up.

  Me: Cab will be here in ten.

  Lauren: K

  I pace back and forth, keeping my hat pulled low and my hands shoved in my pockets. Luckily, the cab shows up quickly, and Lauren only lives about ten minutes away from Kacen and Logan.

  When we pull up to her small house, I toss the cabbie a hundred and climb out. Rushing up the front steps, I lift my hand to knock but before I can make contact, she pulls the door open. She’s wearing short little shorts and a tank top, her long brown hair pulled up in a knot on the top of her head. She doesn’t have a stitch of make-up on, and I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I tell her.

  She blushes. “Get in here before the neighbors start gossiping.”

  I do as she asks and step inside, Lauren immediately closing the door behind me. She moves to walk around me and I grab her arm, stopping her. “You’re beautiful, Lauren.”

  Her blush deepens. “You don’t have to waste your lines on me. We’re already friends.”

  “Is that what we are?” I raise my hand and rest it on the side of her face. I don’t even think she realizes that she leans into my touch. “We’re more than that,” I tell her. I don’t know what we are, but it’s definitely more than friends. I can feel it in my bones. No matter how hard I try to tell myself otherwise. I know it’s there, simmering between us.

  “We are?” she asks.

  “Yeah, beautiful, we are.” Leaning in, I press a kiss to her forehead. Her hands grip my forearms and I can feel her trembling from my touch.

  “Hungry?” Her voice shakes.

  “No,” I reply, raking my eyes over her. Her curves are fucking begging me to reach out and pull her to me.

  Unable to resist, I cover her lips with mine.

  We’ve shared a few pecks here and there, but this, this is different. And I want more of it, more of her. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I pull her close. Her hands release my arms and rest on my chest. She’s still trembling from my touch and fuck if that doesn’t fuel my desire. I nip at her bottom lip, trying to get her to open for me.

  “Tristan,” she sighs against my lips.

  “Just kissing,” I tell her. “I just want to kiss these lips. I need to be back before everyone wakes up, so I can’t stay, but I have a few hours. Let me spend them kissing you.” I kiss down her neck and her breath hitches in her chest.

  “Okay.”

  Little did I know that one word sealed my fate.

  I spent my time in Ohio sneaking out at night to be with her. During the day, she would stop by when she wasn’t working, and it was pure fucking hell keeping my hands off her. She would give me these soft flirty smiles, the ones that make her brown eyes sparkle. That smile pulled me in and I let it. We talk and text every day, but it’s not the same.

  My last night in Ohio, things went further than I think either of us was expecting them too. We were kissing, our usual routine, when one thing led to another and we ended up in her room. I can still feel her so hot and so wet. It was one time, and yet it’s all I can think about. I took my time with her, cherishing every inch of her creamy white skin.

  The sun was about to rise by the time I was finished and I had to leave her. I tried to convince her to let me have the bus pick me up there so I could spend a few more hours with her, but she said no. I remember that night in detail.

  Looking over at the clock, I see it’s time for me to go. I’ve been awake all night, just trying to process… this. Her, us and what happened this week. Replaying every second of our time together. Lauren is curled in my arms, her head resting on my chest and climbing out of this bed, leaving her is the last fucking thing I want to do right now. For the first time in my life, I want to stay. I want the morning kisses and breakfast in bed. Lauren stirs, throwing her leg over mine. My cock, that’s seems to stay hard when she’s around is raring to go, but I ignore it. Instead, I wrap both arms around her and kiss the top of her head. I run through the schedule in my head and with everything that’s going on with the label, I don’t know when we’ll get back to Ohio. The chances of convincing her to come to Tennessee to see me are slim to none considering she won’t let me tell our friends.

  With another look at the clock, I know I need to get moving or we’re going to get busted. As careful as I can, I slide out of her hold, missing the warmth of her bare skin against mine. Using the light on my cell phone, I make my way to the bathroom and take care of business. Fumbling around, I find my clothes and quickly dress. Glancing over at Lauren, there is this foreign feeling deep in my chest. She’s Logan’s cousin, that has to be it. She’s not some groupie; she’s family to my family and we’re… friends. Friends who took a step into something more and I don’t know where we go from here.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed I take her in. She’s gorgeous. Her brown hair is fanned out over the pillow, it’s a tangled mess from where my hands where wrapped around the silky locks just a few hours ago. With featherlight hands, I reach over and move an errant strand off her face. She looks like an angel sleeping.

  “Tristan,” she mumbles in her sleep, and that foreign feeling, the one I don’t have the words to describe, makes itself know again. I place my hand over my chest as if that alone will explain it.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Lauren,” I whisper.

  She doesn’t move.

  Leaning in I kiss her forehead. I let my lips linger, memorizing the softness of her skin. I have to force my legs and feet to move. To stand from the bed and walk away from her.

  Saying goodbye to her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I kissed her one last time, then turned and walked away. The entire cab ride home, I kept telling myself that it only felt wrong because of how we were connected, her being Logan’s cousin and all that. I tried to convince myself that with a little distance, it would be just like any other hookup.

  I was wrong. So wrong.

  It’s going on three months since then and she’s still all I think about. I was certain that she would come down last weekend when Cole and Stacy had their barbeque—I heard the girls talking, so I know they invited her—but apparently she’s really busy at work and couldn’t get away.

  Surely there’s another manager at that damn restaurant who can cover her for a few days.

  Me: When can I see you?

  Lauren: Work is crazy right now. Sorry.

  That’s the same excuse she’s been giving me since the day I realized that neither distance nor time would take away the ache I have for her. That was the next day. I made it a whole twenty-four hours before I caved and asked her when I could see her again.

  Tossing my phone on the table, I tilt my head back and close my eyes.

  “Whoa,” Stacy says. “What did that phone do to you?”

  Peering one eye open, I look over at her. “Nothing.”

  “Sure looks like something.”

  Sitting up straight and opening both eyes, I turn to face her. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get a platter for Gavin to put the meat on.”

  She pulls one of the bar stools over to the counter.

  “Stop!” I scold her. Standing, I walk to where she’s standing, reach up and grab the platter, and hand it to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.

  “Now, when you’re ready to tell me who she is, and what she’s done to tie you up in knots, you know where to find me.”

  “He not talking to you either?” Logan asks, joining us with baby Drew in her arms. “I tried to get it out of him last week when we were here and he clammed up.”

  “You two are nosy.” I point at each of them before taking Drew from Logan.

  “Observant,” they say in unison before laughing.

  “Women,” I scoff, leaning down close to baby Drew. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them
. We need to go be with the men.” I flash Logan and Stacy a smile and head to the back deck.

  “What are you doing to my son?” Kacen asks when I come up beside him.

  “Manly bonding.”

  “So the girls cornered you,” Cole laughs. “I wish whatever it is they think is going on, you would just confess or convince them it’s nothing. Stacy keeps asking me.”

  “Me too,” Kacen chimes in.

  I can see how this would go over. I remember how protective Kacen was of Stacy when Cole started pursuing her, and she’s only Logan’s best friend. I don’t even want to think about how he would be when it comes to her cousin. Although, now that I think about it, he backed off once he realized that Cole was all in. I wish I could say for certain that I am, but I need to see her again, need to know if that spark is still there or if it was just one magical night that has me spinning tales in my head. Besides, she insisted we keep this to ourselves.

  “They’re in a love bubble and want Gav and me to be there too. It’s all in their head,” I insist.

  “Don’t knock it until you try it.” Cole grins.

  “I’m not,” I say defensively.

  “I do think he protests too much,” Kacen laughs.

  “When’s the wedding?” I ask Cole, changing the subject.

  “Not soon enough. Those two”—he points through the patio door into the kitchen—“have a month tops before I rush her off to Vegas.”

  “She know that?” I ask him.

  “Yep,” he says, taking a swig of his beer.

  Drew coos in my arms and I focus my attention on him. “What do you think, little man? Does Uncle Cole need to give you a little cousin to play with?” I ask the slobbering baby.

  “Gladly,” Cole deadpans. “I’d do it today but Stacy wants to do it in order. You know, marriage and then baby.”

  “Although I’m not there yet, I have to admit this little guy is going to be a blast when he gets older.”

  “Are you corrupting my son already?” Logan asks.

  “Me?” I feign innocence.

  “I’m watching you,” Logan says, trying to hide her smile. “All of you,” she adds, looking at Cole and then over at Gavin as he sets a plate of burgers and hot dogs on the table.

  “I’m minding my own business, being good,” Gavin tells her, taking a seat at the table.

  “Good?” Stacy laughs. “Do the four of you know the meaning of that word?”

  Cole leans in and whispers something in her ear; her face turns pink and she nods. Kacen takes Drew, claiming it’s so I can make my plate. That little boy has his daddy hooked. I’m happy for him. This is what Kacen has always wanted. He hit pay dirt with Logan. Same for Cole. Stacy is one of the good ones.

  Pulling out my phone, I snap a picture of the food, the table, and everyone sitting around it, then send it to Lauren.

  Me: See what you’re missing?

  Lauren: Looks like you’re having a good time.

  Me: It would be even better if you were here.

  I know that’s not what she wants to hear, but I can’t seem to find any fucks to give. I can’t stop thinking about her. I need to see her again, in the flesh, standing before me so I can work this out.

  But is it her, or just the memory of her?

  I’m avoiding. I know I am, but I can’t seem to help it. The answer on that little white stick is going to change my life forever. Last month, my period was late. Though I didn’t think anything of it, because that’s normal for me. The sore breasts, the exhaustion, the cramps with no period, however, not so much.

  It didn’t really dawn on me until this morning when I climbed out of bed and nausea hit me. That’s when the last two months came rushing back to me.

  Tristan.

  For four days—or should I say nights—we made out like teenagers. That last night, I was so worked up that I pushed it out of my mind that he was a famous rock star who has a harem of women at his beck and call. I pushed the fact that he’s had and can have anyone he wants to the back of my mind. There was nothing, just me and Tristan and the passion between us. I expected a quick ‘wham-bam, thank you, ma’am,’ but what I got was sexy, intimate, and intense. He didn’t leave a single inch of my skin untouched. We also used protection, so the fact that I’m sitting here staring at a pregnancy test is baffling.

  Knowing I can’t delay this any longer, I open the box and empty it onto the bathroom counter. Grabbing the directions, I read them thoroughly. This isn’t something I want to mess up, though it’s idiot-proof: pee on the stick, then wait five minutes for the results to pop up on the little digital screen. I bought the most expensive one they had. I like that it spells it out for me, no second-guessing what one line or two lines means. Just plain old basic English, ‘pregnant’ or ‘not pregnant.’

  Taking a deep breath, I grab the stick and do my business. Placing the cap on the end, I sit it on the edge of the counter and wash my hands. Glancing behind me through the door, I can see the alarm clock on the bedside table.

  Five minutes.

  I refuse to look any earlier, no cheating on this test; I need to allow the full amount of time to ensure the results are final.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I see a picture message from Tristan of him and the guys, Logan, Stacy, and baby Drew. It’s accompanied by a message:

  Tristan: See what you’re missing?

  Me: Looks like you’re having a good time.

  Tristan: It would be even better if you were here.

  I don’t comment. I can’t. What do I say to that? ‘I’m not there because I’m pretty sure you knocked me up and I’m in the middle of confirming that suspicion?’ No, thanks. He’s a great guy, but I’m not cut out for his lifestyle—not that he’s offering for me to be a part of it. We had a hot night and he wants a repeat. He doesn’t realize that we got more than that.

  Looking at the clock, I have two more minutes, but my gut tells me I already know the answer.

  I don’t take my eyes off the clock as the numbers change. When five minutes finally passes, I take a deep breath and turn to look at the test lying on the counter.

  ‘Pregnant.’

  Closing my eyes, I try to imagine my future. I’m a twenty-three-year-old recent college graduate, working in an entry-level management position at one of the local four-star restaurants. I’m a small-town girl who doesn’t like attention. Hell, in college, I almost passed out in speech class.

  I can’t put my baby through growing up with a rocker for a father, seeing him a few times a year, watching him with a new woman on his arm at every awards show. I shudder at the thought, thus sealing my fate.

  I’m going to be a single mother.

  Tristan can never find out. I’ll limit our messages and calls, be short with him. He’ll get bored and move on to the next willing female. I made it easy for him. I fell under his spell and made myself readily available. Now look where I am. Single, pregnant, and another notch on his bed post.

  Resolve set, I gather the test, the box, and all of the packaging and toss it into the trash. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I call my gynecologist and make an appointment. It had been over a year since I had been with anyone before my night with Tristan, so I’m at an advantage of knowing the exact date of conception. I relay that information to the receptionist.

  “How’s Thursday at ten?” she asks me.

  Mentally, I run through my work schedule. I’m off Thursday. “Yes, that works. Thank you,” I say before ending the call.

  Making my way to the living room, I curl up on the couch with a blanket and let the tears fall.

  It’s been a long week. I’m not quite sure why they refer to it as morning sickness, because I’m sick all the time. Of course, most of that is probably my nerves. I haven’t told a single person about my pregnancy, deciding to wait until after my appointment today—you know, make sure everything is okay.