Complication (Rock Stars & Romance Book 6)

by A. K. Evans

  I tipped my head to the side. “You can cook?”

  “I can do a few things,” he proudly stated. “But I was just going to order a pizza for us tonight.”

  Pizza.

  I hadn’t had a slice of pizza in ages.

  That sounded amazing.

  But before I could answer him, Roscoe leaned forward and snatched his phone up off the coffee table.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “The look on your face told me everything I needed to know,” he answered. “Do you like anything on your pizza?”

  “Sometimes. But it’s been months since I’ve had pizza that I’d love nothing more than to sink my teeth into a plain slice right now.”

  Roscoe gave me a funny look before he chuckled. “Plain, it is.”

  After he ordered the pizza, I picked up my own phone and said, “I’m going to call my mom real quick and have her and my dad bring my car here instead of taking it to my house. Do you mind if I have them do that?”

  “I don’t mind, but what do you need your car for?” he asked.

  “My appointment with the orthopedic doctor is tomorrow morning,” I explained. “I figure it’s just easier if I have them bring my car here, so you don’t have to get up early and take me home.”

  Roscoe placed his elbow on the arm of the couch and rested his chin on his thumb while two of his fingers rested on the side of his face. Then he cocked an eyebrow.

  “What?” I asked. “What is that look for?”

  “I’m guessing it’s not a wise idea for you to drive tomorrow,” he began. “In fact, I think it’s smart that we wait until the doctor says that it’s okay for you to drive with a broken wrist and a cast on before we have that happen. And honestly, I think with a baby on the way that it’s only reasonable that I start setting my alarm a little earlier, don’t you think?”

  I didn’t respond. I simply stared at him.

  “Come on, Sienna. Help me begin the process of becoming a good dad. I need to fix my routine,” he begged.

  This is how he was going to play it. Every time I indicated I was going to do something for myself, he was going to find a way to bring it back to the baby so he could get his way. I hated that it was going to work.

  “Fine,” I huffed. “But I at least have to let my mom know that I’m here, so she doesn’t worry when she goes to my place and doesn’t find me there.”

  “She knows,” he said.

  “What? How?”

  “When you were getting your X-ray, I told her I was going to have you stay with me,” he shared.

  My eyes widened. “And she was just okay with it?”

  Roscoe burst out laughing. I sat there completely mesmerized by the sight of it. When he finally settled himself down, he asked, “Why would she have a problem with it? What am I going to do? You’re already pregnant.”

  He had a point.

  “Fair enough.”

  It wasn’t much later when the doorbell rang. I was so excited about the pizza that I was convinced I could smell it through the closed front door.

  Roscoe returned to the living room with a box of pizza, a couple of plates, some napkins, and drinks.

  He didn’t make me wait to eat. Only after he’d given me a slice did he turn on the television and start searching for something to watch. I didn’t want to be rude, so I held off on taking a bite until he found whatever he was looking for and was able to get his own slice.

  Roscoe must have discerned what I was doing because without even looking over at me, he ordered, “Eat, Sienna. You don’t have to wait for me. I want you to eat.”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice.

  I lifted the slice to my mouth, bit down, and moaned as the cheese stretched when I pulled it back.

  It was the most indulgent thing I’d eaten in months.

  “Oh my God, this is delicious,” I said.

  “It’s sounds like you’re enjoying it,” Roscoe noted as he lifted a slice for himself out of the box.

  “I didn’t realize how much I missed having stuff like this,” I told him.

  “Well, there’s plenty, so eat as much as you want,” he advised.

  I had no plans to eat the entire box, but I definitely wasn’t stopping at one slice. Though I knew it wasn’t the healthiest thing for me to be eating, I didn’t see any reason to punish myself. I’d been very good about eating healthier and more nutritious foods that one meal that was slightly less wholesome wasn’t going to do any harm.

  After a second slice, I set the plate down on top of the coffee table and sat back with a big smile on my face.

  “What’s that look all about?” Roscoe asked.

  “I just ate the most delicious meal I’ve had in months, and I didn’t need to cook it,” I told him. “Thank you for giving me that.”

  Roscoe’s features softened and warmed. “You’re welcome. Can I interest you in some dessert and make this an even better night for you?”

  I wanted to remind him that the last time he wanted to give me a good night, I wound up pregnant. But I didn’t think that was smart after all that had happened and the effort he was putting forth to make things better between us.

  Plus, he’d offered dessert.

  “What’s for dessert?” I asked.

  “Ice cream.”

  My eyes widened. “I promise not to be mad and will accept whatever ice cream you have, but you would make my whole week if you told me that you had chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.”

  Roscoe grinned.

  “What if I told you I had three cartons of that ice cream?”

  “You’d make my whole month,” I deadpanned.

  He chuckled. “Sit tight. I’ll go grab it for you.”

  I watched as Roscoe got up and made his way to the kitchen. The whole time he was gone, I sat there feeling completely mesmerized. I didn’t know what was going on, and I never would have thought that a trip to the hospital would land me in this position. But I absolutely was not going to complain.

  I’d just had pizza. I was about to have my favorite flavor of ice cream. And Roscoe had told me that he wanted to try to be a good father.

  Things were definitely looking up.

  And when I put that first bite of dessert in my mouth, I couldn’t help but look over at Roscoe and smile at him for turning my whole day around.

  Sixteen

  Roscoe

  My eyes shot open.

  I reached out for my phone and lifted it up.

  Seven o’clock.

  That had to be a record for me when there was nowhere to be.

  I didn’t know who I was trying to kid. I knew exactly why I was awake so early. It was the same reason I’d found it difficult to fall asleep last night.

  Sienna was in my house, in a bed, and she wasn’t beside me.

  And after all that had happened with her since yesterday morning, I wholeheartedly believed that she should have been in my bed last night. The craziest thing about all of that was that it wasn’t even about having her there for sex. I just wanted her close to me. I wanted our baby close.

  Over the last couple of weeks, I’d noticed myself feeling something different than I’d ever experienced before. All the thoughts I’d had for years about going out, partying, and having a good time ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered to me was Sienna. Her and the baby.

  Maybe it was the result of what happened at the grocery store. Maybe it was talking to Beck and the rest of the guys the night afterward. I didn’t know. But seeing Sienna sacrifice something she wanted just to make sure she had enough to take care of our child had me taking a step back and looking in the mirror.

  I needed to do better.

  For her.

  For the baby.

  For myself.

  I could think of no better way to make that happen this morning than by making her breakfast.

  On that thought, I tossed the blanket back, moved to the bathroom to take a piss, and pulled on a pair of sweats.
I walked out of my bedroom and moved down the hall toward the stairs when I suddenly stopped.

  I had assumed that Sienna would be sleeping still, but she wasn’t.

  And it seemed she’d just found out what I’d been doing over the last few weeks. I stopped in the doorway of the room she’d walked into, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched her.

  A moment later, she noticed me standing there.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  There was no missing the disbelief and confusion in her tone.

  “I told you I wanted the chance to be a good dad,” I started. “So, I’ve been picking up things I thought we’d need.”

  “We?” she repeated. Before she gave me a chance to acknowledge that, she went on, “Roscoe, my mom is throwing a baby shower.”

  Nodding, I confirmed, “I know. But none of this stuff is on the registry.”

  She jerked back, completely surprised. Her eyes moved through the items in the room before coming back to me. “How do you know that?” she questioned me.

  “I talked to Beck and told him I wanted Chasey to give me a list of the items you didn’t add to the registry,” I explained.

  “I didn’t add them because there were other items I thought were more important to have or these simply wouldn’t fit in my apartment,” she replied.

  “I understand. But they’ll fit here. And your place or mine, this baby is going to need diapers. I’ve been doing a lot of reading. Babies go through a ridiculous amount of them. I just want to make sure there’s enough.”

  She moved her head up and down slowly as she looked away from me and back at items I’d purchased. There were more things on the way, but I didn’t think it was wise to share that at this juncture. She was already dealing with enough shock.

  “They’ll fit here,” she rasped.

  “What?”

  “All of this stuff. It’ll all fit here,” she started. “Everything from the registry probably will, too.”

  Sienna’s voice was filled with worry and concern.

  “Is something bothering you?” I asked. “Are you upset that I bought these things?”

  There was a long stretch of silence. Eventually, she shook her head and replied, “No. No, I think it’s great that you want to be a good dad, Roscoe. I have no doubt that you’ll be just that.”

  While I didn’t think she was lying about most of what she’d said, I could hear the despondency in her tone. Something was upsetting her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I pressed.

  She shrugged. “You’re far more equipped to raise this baby than I am,” she murmured.

  “That’s a lie,” I declared.

  “How do you figure?” she questioned me. “Look around this room. Forget about everything in it. Roscoe, you can give him or her a bedroom. His or her own bedroom. I can’t do that.”

  “I distinctly remember someone telling me that money isn’t the only thing necessary to take care of a baby,” I reminded her. “You have this unbelievable determination to protect and nurture our child in a way I’m certain I’ll only ever come in second to. And I’m okay with that. Because while my plan never included having children, it happened. I’m grateful as fuck that it happened with you. There’s not a doubt in my mind about the kind of mother you’ll be. You’d sacrifice everything you might want for this baby.”

  I had to stop myself there because I could have kept going. In doing that, I might have revealed more than was smart given where we were.

  “Are you worried?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  Her hand went to her stomach before she rasped, “About this baby living in my apartment.”

  It was all suddenly starting to come together. I was holding myself back, but maybe I needed to be clear with her. Maybe Sienna needed reassurances. I couldn’t continue to hide what I wanted if it was going to cause her unnecessary stress.

  Unsure how she would feel about it but believing it was the right thing to do for Sienna in that moment, I reached out for her and tugged her toward me. My arms went around her as I said, “I understand why you might not trust me, Sienna, but I need you to believe me when I tell you this. I do not care how much money you have or don’t have. It does not bother me that you live in a one-bedroom apartment. I have no doubt that apartment would be full to bursting once this baby arrived. And that’s not because of the things that would be in there but because of the love I know you have for our son or daughter.”

  Sienna’s arms came around my waist, and her body began to relax a bit.

  It still wasn’t enough for me.

  “You’re here right now because we’re doing what we have to do to make things easier on you with your wrist and because I want to be sure I’m around for all the remaining milestones in this pregnancy,” I began again. “I don’t want to make false promises about what’s going to happen after the baby is born, but I do know we’re going to need each other to get through the first few months. I’m not going to kick you out, but I’m also not opposed to staying at your place if that’s what you want.”

  Sienna pulled her face away from my bare chest, took half a step back, and looked up at me. Before she could say anything, I added, “What you have in your bank account doesn’t matter to me. I already know everything I need to know about the kind of woman you are right here.” I pressed one finger to the skin over her heart and ended, “This is the only thing that matters to me.”

  “You really mean that?” she asked.

  I smiled at her and replied, “I do.”

  She returned the smile and said, “Thanks, Roscoe.”

  Following a beat of silence, I asked, “How did you sleep?”

  “I woke up quite a few times in the middle of the night,” she told me.

  “Was the bed uncomfortable?”

  I was already making plans to switch with her and let her take my bed tonight to see if that was better. And if not, I’d take her out and let her pick one that she liked.

  “Oh, no. The bed was fine. Way better than the one I have at home. It’s just that if I wasn’t waking up to pee, I was waking up because my hand was throbbing.”

  “Did you take anything for it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I know the doctor said it was safe to, but I was still worried,” she explained. “So, I’d simply elevate it for a bit. That seemed to help a little.”

  “You should have woken me up,” I told her.

  She let out a laugh. “What would you have done? Kissed it and made it better?”

  I grinned at her, feeling happy that she seemed to be in better spirits. “If you think it would have helped.”

  Sienna rolled her eyes and shook her head at me.

  “You hungry?” I asked.

  “These days, the answer is always yes.”

  I chuckled and said, “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll make you breakfast.”

  With that, Sienna and I walked out of the room and went downstairs for breakfast.

  I might have seemed to her like I was completely focused on cooking, but the truth was that my mind was still upstairs in that room, the one I hoped we’d be able to turn into the baby’s nursery. The same one I hoped to walk into every day after the baby was born to see not only that baby but also his or her mother there as well.

  I looked across the center console when I brought the car to a stop. Something swelled in my chest at seeing Sienna sitting there.

  We’d just finished having her wrist checked out and put into a cast this morning at the doctor’s office, but I didn’t take her home right away.

  I made a stop at the grocery store. Since my intention was to have Sienna living with me indefinitely, I wanted to be certain there was food in the house that she liked.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I thought it would be good to stop and make sure we’re all stocked up,” I shared. “If you’re going to be living with me for the next few months, I think there should be food there
that you like.”

  Hesitation and uneasiness crept in and marred her features. “Oh, Roscoe, that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine with whatever you’ve got.”

  I shook my head. “No. No, this is important. We should make sure there’s lots there that you like. I don’t want you having to eat things you don’t enjoy, because you might not eat enough and then the baby won’t grow. This is me doing my part to be a good dad.”

  Her caution vanished as she shot me an incredulous look. “You’re really going to use that excuse on me every chance you can, aren’t you?”

  “If it’s working,” I answered.

  And that was the truth. I knew she would start to cave if I made it all about the baby. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do, but it worked. And for now, I was willing to do anything to make it so she’d start letting me take care of her.

  As we strolled through the store, I asked, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

  Sienna shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter to me. I’d like to help cook, though.”

  “Is there anything that you’ve been craving since you got pregnant that you haven’t had yet?” I asked.

  “Parmesan-crusted chicken with a heaping pile of homemade mashed potatoes,” she deadpanned.

  I didn’t know what parmesan-crusted chicken was, which meant that I didn’t know how to make it. And while I’d eaten my fair share of mashed potatoes, I wasn’t sure I could make them unless they came out of a box. Did that count as homemade?

  “Will you teach me how to make it tonight?” I asked.

  “Roscoe, you don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “It’s a lot of work.”

  “And you did nothing today?” I countered.

  Sienna shot me a dubious look as her eyes shifted back and forth. “Not really. I mean, I woke up, ate breakfast that you made, took a shower, got dressed, and had you drive me to the doctor. Now we’re here.”

  “You also did all of that while sacrificing your body so our baby could develop lungs,” I pointed out.

  “What?”

  “I keep telling you, I’ve been reading. Don’t diminish what you’re doing because you can’t see it. You’ve worked hard today, probably harder than I’ve ever worked in my whole life. Now, I want to know if you’re going to teach me how to make this fancy chicken.”