“Thank you Stacy for being so wonderful,” I sob, clinging to the two most important people in my life other than my little fetuses.
“I’d do anything for you Em, you know that.” He kisses the top of my head, I can hear him inhaling my scent.
And I just melt. This is the most amazing man on the planet and I can’t seem to understand how a woman can’t keep him—or a man, for that matter. He deserves to be happy and loved and have a family of his own. I wish I could give that to him. I can’t but I wish I could. If only I could tap into my brain and make myself love him in the way lovers do. I would do it for him. But the thought of sleeping with Stacy isn’t a sexual one. It creeps me out and makes me want to throw up. It’s like having sex with your brother, which is so not a good feeling.
We break away from the hug and I kiss him on the cheek. I can’t bring myself to tell him that what he is proposing will probably never happen but I can’t ruin the ascending mood. We go into the living room and I curl up next to him on the couch. I throw the blanket over my legs and we tangle our bodies together. He feels so good against my skin. I love this man!
“How about I make up some tea,” my mom suggests with a smile standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Wiping her puffy eyes clean of tears.
“Can I have tea still?”
She chuckles so sweetly. “Yes darling but it will have to be decaf. I’ll make us some and we can talk about your pregnancy. Stace, do you want some?”
He nods with a smile and places a gentle loving kiss upon my temple. I squeeze him tighter. “How did I ever get so lucky to have such a wonderful best friend?” I nuzzle his chest with my nose. He smells like cologne and chocolate.
“I wonder the same thing every day of my life,” he says and pushes my wavy hair from my face and kisses my forehead again. His lips are so soft and heartwarming. God I am lucky to have him. Especially now.
My mom reenters into the living room and hands me a white mug of tea and Stacy the same.
“Thanks mom,” I say with a crooked genuine smile. I’m exhausted. I need a nap and a lobotomy. That might fix my major ever growing anxiety issues.
“So…wonderful daughter of mine. I know I haven’t gotten a chance to weigh in. I just want you to know from your father and I’s perspective, we are happy. I know it’s not the most ideal for you to be pregnant without a husband. But you’re pregnant, which is more than we could have ever dreamed for. And if you need anything from us, you always know we will be there.”
“Thanks mom, you know that means a lot to me. You and dad have always been great to me and Stacy.” I kiss his shirt covered chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring a man with me into this situation. But I promise I won’t ask for much. I just need you to be grandma and grandpa and spoil the crap out of these little two.” I rub my tummy and Stacy sets his tea down on the end table and places his hand over mine.
“I will take care of her Mom, I promise,” Stacy says, rubbing his hand across my belly.
“I know you will Stacy, you two have more of a functional relationship than most married couples.” She readjusts on the loveseat, crossing her legs. “So honey do you have any questions on your pregnancy? I think I could help with the questions. Not only from a mother’s point of view, but a nurses. I do work with little babies every day.”
That guides us into a two-hour conversation of me and Stacy asking my mom a thousand questions. Like how much weight I am going to gain? Which I guess depends on the woman. But my mom said with carrying twins I will most likely gain fifty, if I am anything like her. That seems like a lot of weight on my small body. I know I don’t know how much I weigh but I figure I am somewhere around one twenty only because my butt is huge and my boobs are large. Now adding fifty pounds to my frame I will look like the Goodyear blimp by the time I am ready to deliver. I was even lucky enough to find out that I will most likely have morning sickness for the next two months, my breasts will swell and fill with colostrum, I will get massive amounts of stretch marks and I might as well kiss my tiny feet good-bye as they will probably plump up to be the size of watermelons along with my ass. Oh, the joys of becoming a mom. And, to be honest, I would take that and fifty more things if it meant in the end I deliver two healthy babies.
The lighter notes my mom decided to tack on as filler to make my anxiety level simmer down was the fact that I will most likely glow. Not like a lightening bug but my skin will radiate warmth. Or some happy horseshit like that. Also, I will be able to feel the babies move in a few months, which I am seriously looking forward to and to top off the GOOD list, I am supposed to be horny all the time. Like a walking orgasm or that’s kind of how my mom put it. I refused to ask if she was that way when she was pregnant with me. Knowing her and my dad had to have sex to conceive me is bad enough. The thought might actually scar me for life.
The rest of the night goes rather smoothly. I take a dip in the claw foot tub. Pad around the house in my newest PJ purchase. A pair of smiley face boxers they have guitars on them and the smiley faces have Mohawk’s. They’re men’s size medium and run a little big but I prefer them that way and finding out about the babies I might get lucky enough and be able to wear them my entire pregnancy. Fingers crossed.
My mom ordered pizza, Stacy and I lounged on the couch tangled up together like always. Stacy holding me always feels so nice. It’s like a big comfy blanket, wrapped in unicorns, dipped in chocolate and rolled in pure happiness. Mom sat on the loveseat in her plaid night pants and a baggy T. Stace had on blue gym shorts and a yellow shirt. Popcorn was stuffed by the fistful into our mouths throughout the night as movie after movie played on my parent’s flat screen. It was so relaxing after spending what feels like the past month drowning in anxiety and stress.
Chapter Seventeen
The entire week with my parents and Stacy went by in the blink on an eye. After the initial pregnancy revelation and Stacy’s apologetic surprise from his mother the rest of the week passed rather simply and comfortably. It was the R&R we needed. Over ten movies were watched, our faces were stuffed every day with delicious food my mom cooked. We slept in late every morning and watched the sun go down swinging on the porch. It was the kind of life you’d always dreamed about but rarely lived. With our busy lives and schedules it’s hard to sit back and enjoy life and the small things you take for granted. Like watching Stacy eat fifteen butterscotch cookies in one sitting and complaining of a stomachache afterward. Or going to bed late and staying up remising about life with your best friend in the same bedroom you spent years bonding together as teenagers.
This whole past week we rarely talked about Kyle or Johnathan or the band except when I ran some ideas I had a chance to work on, by him. I spent hours when he was visiting his mom and his aunt jotting down ideas and searching my laptop. Google is the best invention known to mankind, I swear. I know Stacy brought me into the band to help when he takes time off. I am capable of doing it and the roadies are set on how they assemble and disassemble the sets. He’s taught them so well, they rarely need direction. So, in addition to making sure the bands gigs go off without a hitch I decided to put my P.R degree to some use. I studied mainly with public relations at NYU but I also took extra classes in marketing to make myself more competitive in the workplace. With those both under my belt I have some great ideas I want to propose to the men once we get back to the bus which is parked in Washington D.C ready for our next gig. Eight more weeks of this tour both in the US and moving into Canada and I am hoping to use the time afterward to promote the band further. I will work the media and marketing and Stacy agreed to help with planning and venues. We seriously make an amazing well-rounded team.
We are now flying from Fort Wayne to D.C. in coach. I refuse to use part of my measly 32k a year salary to fly first-class. I called Dr. Shells to be sure I am allowed to still fly before I booked our D.C flight. He was confident that I would be fine to fly until I hit about twenty four weeks, after that he wants it strictly ground transportations. He
said with normal pregnant woman he’d advise them to stop after thirty two weeks but me carrying twins he didn’t want to chance it. I am fully on board with that.
So now Stacy is sleeping with headphones on, jamming to music on his iPhone. Probably Stricken or Ice the Monkey. Which is a new band Magic records signed about six months ago. They just released their first album Jungle Bitch that just so happens to be the title of their number one hit. According to Stace, the band will be opening for Stricken the last five shows of this tour.
I’ve spent the past hour and a half on our flight reading a pregnancy book on my Nook. I’ve downloaded twelve and gotten through two so far. I’m now in my sixth week and according to my phones new app each baby is approximately the size of a pomegranate seed. I haven’t had any more sickness since vomiting at the docs. I was nauseated one night after I ate spaghetti and meatballs. Other than that it’s been smooth sailing and the excessive horniness has yet to kick in. I’m still leveling out at my normal horniness which is mild and only needs taken care of once or twice a month. Although I do have a feeling that will change soon enough. Yah me! Or not.
The pilot just announced our decent into D.C. I nudge Stacy with my elbow and pull one of his ear buds out. “Rise and shine beauty queen.”
He doesn’t say a word or move an inch. Now I have the choice, do I play nice or do I play dirty? The naughty part of me says grab his dick, that’ll wake him up. The conservative side is telling me to be nice and wake him once we land. I decide to go with something in the middle and I lean up and lick his face from his chin to his forehead in one rather wet swoop.
“Ah, hell! Em, what was that for?” he wakes, his face is scrunched, grossed out. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the slobber off his face.
I giggle a little naughty laugh “I tried to wake you. You didn’t move so it was either that or grab your balls. I decided the lick was nicer. You lucked out,” I teased and pretended and in slow-mo that I was going to grab is balls. I extend my arm over his seat arm and I start my descent between his legs. He grabs my hand fast and squeezes it. Then he gently lays it on our mutual armrest.
“See that’s better. You’re right, the lick was better.” He shoots me a wicked smile.
“I knew you’d see it my way.” I rub the side of his arm lovingly.
Our week together has brought us even closer together if that was possible. He’s made me happier than I’ve been in a long time just being around him. The mom stuff with him I think has helped a lot with his internal struggles and in turn he’s started to heal from his past. I couldn’t be more thankful for that.
I lean over Stacy’s lap, my hair falling around my face as I peer out the window. We are just about to land. I can see the runway underneath the plane.
“Sit back, we are about to land,” he says.
I snap up and put my hand on the seat on front of me. When the wheels hit the pavement my body leaches forward and I brace myself. This is the worst part of the whole flying experience.
Getting out of the plane and down to the baggage claim was quick and painless. James parked a Mercedes SUV by the exit and Stacy and I got in without a hitch.
“How was your break James?” I ask him while I reach over and fasten my seat belt next to Stacy who decides to nix the safety harness.
“Very nice, Miss Bronwyn. Thank you,” he says politely. Always so punctual and proper. If he wasn’t driving us to the tour bus right now I am sure he would have bowed.
“Are the boys back at the bus already? Or are they arriving later on?”
“Ah yes, Mr. Striker, Mr. Moyer, Mr. Dob’s and Mr. Welling all arrived earlier this morning. Ma’am.”
“Do you ever use our first names or is it always this formal with you? James.”
“I have been given instructions to use whichever. Being in the Marine Corps for twelve years and eight years working for internal affairs I’ve been trained to use surnames, not first. An acquired taste I suppose,” he replies evenly. Dignified and formal.
Which puts him a little over forty.
“So why do we use your first name?”
That seems like a logical question to me. Why would he be the only one using proper surnames and we are stuck using his first.
“James is my last name, ma’am. Calvin is what my mother named me.” I can hear a smile in his voice. He knows he caught me off guard.
“Ah, well Calvin James, I’m glad to see you again,” I voice warmly. I need to show him I do care for him. If he is going to be our number one bodyguard I want him to like me.
Ten minutes later and we pull up outside the tour bus parked behind the Verizon Center. The fans are already lined up outside trying to get any glimpse of one of the guys. Groupies are relentless, I swear.
James gets out first and opens my door and offers his hand. I take it and Stacy scoots out behind me. All the way into the bus James blocks my body from the crowds view that is growing in number right behind a fence.
Inside, all the guys are sitting on the couch. I barely look at them. I don’t want to see Johnathan yet and they’re presumably talking about how their short vacation went. James carries in my bag and drops it on the floor by my bunk.
“We cleaned out two drawers for you.” I hear Keith say eyeing me from the couch.
“Thanks. Which ones?”
“The shortest ones, of course,” he explains, gets up and walks over to me. “Those bottom two.” He kicks them with his Adidas.
“You know you guys didn’t have to do that. I was doing fine living out of my suit case it was so rock and roll after all,” I tease, bending over to open the drawers and unzip my bag to unpack.
“That’s what I told the guys but they didn’t listen,” D chimes in from the couch. I can’t see his face.
“Whatever D you just wanted to keep those two for your sick shit,” Keith says, his tone serious.
“What shit?” I tuck my hair behind my ears and turn my gaze up to him from the floor that I am now kneeling on.
“Don’t you dare fucking tell her, Keith,” D warns darkly.
“Oh, come on D,” Keith taunts, I can hear the smile in his tone.
I lay my folded clothes on the floor next to the open drawer.
“Deacon had that bottom drawer stuffed full of women’s panties that he’s picked up over the tour as souvenirs,” Stacy chimes in, kneeling beside me with a naughty smile. He’s so going to hear it from D. I don’t care, it’s funny and I cover my mouth to hold back a laugh.
“Ah. I see,” I say, nearly choking on my words. I don’t know how much longer I can hold this laugh back. It’s really disgusting he’d keep panties that women have worn but it doesn’t surprise me. Nothing about that man does.
“I hope they washed out the drawer,” I whisper to Stacy.
He smiles my way holding back his own laugh “I doubt it so I’d grab the Clorox wipes from under the sink to make sure.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you Stacy?!” D barks, my heart just about jumps out of my chest he’s standing right behind us and his face is filled with anger.
“It’s true bud. She was going to find out one way or another,” Stace adds with a grin. Great, make him angrier why don’t cha?
I leave them to it and turn around to crawl between D’s legs and Keith’s. Just far enough apart that I can fit. I need to go get those wipes and I need to put my clothes away. They are all locked into a bitching match with Stacy and I know he can handle his own. He’s bigger than douche bag Deacon anyhow.
I get through the legs and two very large feet appear in my line of sight.
“Hello Emily, looking for these?”
Holy, mother of god my babies daddy is standing right in front of me holding the Clorox wipes and he is just as sexy as I remember. Maybe a little less sexy because he looks like he hasn’t slept in like a week. Dark circles encase his beautiful green eyes. Probably from all the sex he’s been having. Shit! No I can’t think about that. Why do I care? Oh, that’s rig
ht, I freaking love this man! Oh shit! No I don’t. I hate him. Okay, maybe hate isn’t the best word. I dislike him a lot. Dislike him from hurting me, dislike him for breaking my heart and hating him right now because I can feel my heart aching again and it hasn’t felt like that in nearly five days. And the butterflies are back fluttering in my damn stomach. This has got to stop. I need to go through Johnathan detox. Maybe if I call one of his last ten women they could give me tips on how to get past this. No, that’s probably a bad idea. They might be worse off than I am and I would hate to rub salt in their wounds. It’s bad enough mine are barely mending.
“Emily.” He snaps his fingers to get my attention.
Oh fuck, I zoned out again. What’s wrong with me? Dammit my mouth is hanging open like a fucking dog and I am on all fours, staring straight up at this hot rocker. I have got to get my shit together and fast.
Step one: shut your fucking mouth. I shut it. Step two: say something.
“Oh um, sorry.” I mutter.
Oh great Em, smooth, real smooth. Next time why don’t you just kiss his boot and tell him how much you worship him? I’m pathetic!
He holds out his hand. I ignore it and get up off the floor all on my own. I am going to have to do a lot of things on my own in the next couple of months. Consider this a testament to my growing motherhood status. Eat that assbag! Hell yes! I’m back!
Facing him, I brush off my jeans like I have something on them. Yep, I’m back in rocker gear. Actual jean pants. Lucky brand I think. I dunno exactly. Stacy said they were a bitchen brand or something like that, and I have on a tight yellow t-shirt printed with Nerd candy on it. Total high school geek alert but I thought it was cute.
Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set Page 16
