Waking Up Married: A Rock Star Rom Com

by Lisa Suzanne

  “How was that for a warm-up to the main event?” he asks playfully as he slides beside me.

  I giggle, my body heating again at the thought of him inside me. “Perfect.”

  He gives me a minute to come down from my high, and then I see that he’s already wearing a condom. He’s ready for me, and I’m more than ready for him.

  I lean over and kiss him, this time slowly and passionately. It’s a thank you for the pleasure he just gave me just as much as it’s a preview for what comes next.

  He shifts so he’s hovering over me again. He gazes down at me for a few intense beats, and then he says, “I love you, Em.”

  “I love you, too,” I say, and his mouth moves back to mine just as he pushes inside me.

  There are moments we dream of and moments we hope for. There are times that could never measure up to how we think they’ll be, and then there are times like this, when dreams and hopes collide into something bigger and better than we ever could have imagined.

  And that’s what we call perfection.

  His body fills mine, and as he thrusts his hips to mine, moving in and out, it’s complete and utter perfection. He satisfies the ache as he was born to do, and he fulfills my craving for him the way no other man ever has or ever could.

  I realize the reason why as he pushes me closer and closer to my second orgasm of the night.

  It’s because he’s my person. He’s the one person who was put on this Earth for me.

  His hand grazes slowly up my thigh.

  His lips find my nipple.

  He presses wet kisses to my neck.

  He kisses me softly as his body moves over mine.

  My nails claw at his skin as I move closer and closer to my release.

  Our bodies rock together, the sounds of our moans louder than the music and providing a steamy chorus to the beat our bodies are making.

  And finally, after what feels like a month because in a lot of ways it has been, we both find our release at the same time, flying over the edge of bliss together.

  CHAPTER 47: ADAM

  I pant as I try to catch my breath after what was definitely the best sex of my life...and hers, I hope.

  It was just like I remembered from that fateful night a month ago, but my blackout memory buried a lot of the finer details.

  The feel of her body squeezing mine as she dove headfirst into her orgasm, for example.

  The sounds of her moans filling the room, seemingly battling my own for who could be louder...so unlike my usually quiet, adorkable Emily and the sexy times we’ve shared on the bus.

  I’m happy with her.

  Deliriously.

  And I never really saw it coming. I thought I was happy with Bree, but looking back, it wasn’t happiness. It was contentedness. I was content, comfortable with where we were, and I didn’t even know there was a question to be asked. I didn’t know there could be something more out there for me...something like this, what I have with Emily.

  The feelings I have for her are overwhelming.

  They’re powerful and lasting. We have something I didn’t know existed. It isn’t just about looking for her in any room I enter, but it’s about that feeling of home when my eyes meet hers. It isn’t just about being content and comfortable, but it’s about truly feeling a joy in just being around this other person. It isn’t about just me anymore. It’s about her. I’ll do anything for her.

  It’s love, plain and simple.

  And if Bree had never asked me if I’d choose her or the band, I may never have gotten the chance to fall in love with someone as selfless and caring and sexy as Emily.

  We have sex three more times in our anniversary suite—once in the shower, once up against the windows, and once more in the bed in the middle of the night—and I feel like New Orleans will always be a little more special to me because I’ll never forget how meaningful this night has been.

  Something changed here, and even though I knew I loved her before, this was the place where I fell more deeply and began to understand the implications of that.

  I don’t want a contract with Emily that states we have to stay married for six months.

  I want a marriage that lasts a lifetime.

  And so, before we leave for bus call and head toward Florida and before we check out of the magical suite that marks a turning point in our relationship, I have something to say to her.

  “I have a question for you,” I say. She’s freshly showered and beautiful sitting on the edge of the bed as the morning sun beats in our windows.

  She raises a brow, and I get down on one knee. Her brows furrow. “What are you doing?”

  “Will you marry me?” I ask her.

  She smacks my shoulder and giggles. “We’re already married, you dork.”

  I shake my head, dead serious as I don’t even crack a smile. “I want you to be my wife, Em. No more faking. No more pretending. I know we said we’ll give this a try, but last night something changed for me. I don’t want to just give it a try.”

  I pause, and she looks a little confused. “I want a marriage,” I clarify. “With you. I want our wedding next month to be for us, another turning point where we agree to really live as husband and wife. I want to shred that stupid fucking contract and stop putting on an act for the show. And I’m telling you this, here and now in this hotel room where it’s just the two of us, no mic packs and no cameras and no prying eyes, because I mean it. I love you and I want to spend every single day showing you how much.”

  By the time I’m done with my rambling, her eyes are sparkling with unshed tears.

  “I...I don’t know what to say,” she says.

  “Say yes.”

  “This is all so fast, Adam. We just celebrated our one-month anniversary and I feel like in a lot of ways, I’m still getting to know you.”

  “I know it’s fast.” I wrap my arms around her waist from my kneeling position on the floor. “But it’s also right. We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

  She’s quiet for a minute, and then she leans her head down and places her hands on my cheeks. She stares into my eyes for a beat, and something in her eyes changes. “You’re right,” she says, and I realize what that little change in her eyes was: Faith.

  In us.

  She presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I love you. I want to be your wife. Let’s do this.”

  I can’t help my wide smile at her words. “Let’s do this.”

  And then, well...we celebrate by having sex one last time in this magical suite before we have to leave for bus call.

  After New Orleans, we play two dates in Florida then move through Hershey, Atlantic City, Nashville, and Louisville, and now we’re marching on toward the end of January with a stop in Chicago.

  I’ve always loved traveling, and my job has given me opportunities to travel to places I never could have imagined. But seeing some of these places for the second (or third or fourth) time with Emily by my side makes it a brand-new experience.

  Pizza and hot dogs in Chicago, for example, have always been great. But with Emily, they’re an adventure. She tells me about some hot dog joint a friend of hers visited years ago, and we hunt it down and have the best chili cheese dog and crispiest French fries I’ve ever eaten.

  The only downside?

  Apparently it doesn’t agree with Em’s stomach.

  Our bus is parked for three nights in Chicago with a gig on the middle night, so I got us another hotel suite to ourselves. We have a nice time on a date in Chicago and cap the evening with some sexy time in our suite, but by morning, Emily has locked herself in the bathroom.

  Every time I’ve tried knocking on the door, I’ve been turned away with some muffled, weak yell from behind the door. “I think it was the chili dog.” “I’m still not feeling well.” “Give me a few more minutes.”

  I don’t know what, exactly, is going on in there, and I don’t want to know, but I’m more than willing to hold back her hair if it’s a throwing up k
ind of thing. Every time she’s come out, though, she just collapses in bed looking totally spent, sleeps for a few minutes, and runs back into the bathroom.

  “I need to head over to the Allstate Arena for soundcheck. Are you able to come?” I ask through the door when I simply can’t wait any longer.

  She opens the door, and her normally vibrant cheeks are pale and her normally shiny hair has turned greasy.

  Even so...she’s still beautiful.

  “I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Buttercup. I just want you to feel better.”

  Her pale lips lift at my term of endearment, and then she turns a little green. “Have a good show,” she says, and then she slams the door.

  “I love you!” I yell through the door.

  “Back at you!” she yells back through her retching.

  I heave out a sigh as I lean my head against the door. “I wish I could stay with you.”

  “I get it. Just go.”

  I scribble a little note for her to find whenever she emerges from the bathroom, and then I take off for work.

  CHAPTER 48: EMILY

  Whoever planned this tour did a good job accounting for the weather, but touring through the Midwest when I’m used to San Diego in January is, to be honest, a little dreary.

  I feel like I haven’t seen the sun in weeks.

  It’s cold and slushy and snowy, the conditions making the roads dangerous and a little scary.

  But Adam has assured me all is fine, and so I’ve been placing my focus on enjoying the experience.

  All the way until that damn chili cheese dog I just had to have.

  Though to be completely honest, I did enjoy it.

  The first time.

  When it came back up...not so much.

  I never want chili again. Or hot dogs.

  I refuse to give up cheese, though, no matter how it just made its exit.

  An hour after Adam left, there’s a knock at my door.

  I pad over in my slippers and the hotel bathrobe and peer through the peephole before I open the door.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  Kylie sweeps past me into my room with a paper bag in one hand and a white Styrofoam cup in the other. “I came to check on you.” She holds up the paper bag. “And I brought soup, crackers, and Sprite.”

  “You’re a lifesaver,” I say, though truthfully the thought of even soup isn’t settling well at the moment.

  She gives me a sympathetic smile as she sets the bag on the desk by the window. “I manage MFB, and that includes the wives therein. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got run over by a truck.” I fall back onto the bed, and she sits on the couch. “I’ve been alternating between throwing up and sleeping for the last eight hours and I just want to go home and lie in bed.”

  She nods. “I get it. Being sick on the road is the absolute worst. At least you know it’s food-related, though, and not contagious. Because being sick sucks, but knowing you made everyone else sick is even worse.”

  “Have you been sick on the road before?” I ask.

  “Yep.” She stretches her legs out in front of her and rests a hand on her stomach as she gets comfortable. “Aside from minor colds and congestion, I got really sick about six weeks into this pregnancy. I was totally fine, and then one day it just snapped and I had horrible morning sickness for a month.” She shakes her head at the memory, and I sit up at her words.

  “Six weeks?” I ask softly as a bolt of fear races down my spine.

  Six weeks.

  She nods. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant yet. I realized I’d missed my period and combined with the throwing up, well, Dax made me take a test, and sure enough, it was morning sickness all along.”

  “You didn’t know you were pregnant?” The bolt of fear settles into my stomach and forms a pit there.

  Her eyes widen at my line of questioning, but she doesn’t say anything as she shakes her head.

  I grab my phone and check the app that tracks my period.

  It was due two weeks ago.

  With the craziness of life on the road and settling into this wild new normal, I knew it was a little late but figured it had something to do with traveling and stress...not potentially being pregnant.

  Oh my God.

  I don’t even remember the night that this might’ve happened.

  It would have to be Adam’s.

  Chad and I hadn’t been intimate for a long time before I found out about the cheating...just one of the many broken things in our relationship, now that I look back. I figured it was because we’d both been busy, not because he’d been cheating on me.

  But none of that matters.

  Kylie clears her throat and sits up, placing both feet on the floor. “Do you, uh—I mean, would you want...”

  I know I must be sitting staring at her in horror as this little idea forms into what could be my new reality.

  “Do you want me to get you a test?” she finally manages to spit out.

  “I don’t know.” I don’t know anything right now. I can’t think clearly past the buzzing in my ears, and I’m a little worried I’m about to pass out either from the lack of food over the last half day or the blood draining out of my face.

  And then, to make matters worse, I start to cry.

  I’ve been sick all day, I can’t control my emotions, I’m totally exhausted, and I missed my period.

  It all adds up. I don’t need a test to know the answer.

  “Yes, please,” I manage through the tears as they stream down my cheeks.

  I don’t even know why I’m crying.

  It may be out of fear, or it may be out of anxiety, or it may be from a totally different place I haven’t even explored yet.

  Kylie comes over and sits beside me on the bed. She tosses an arm around me and squeezes my shoulder as she pulls me closer for a side hug. “It’s going to be okay, Emily. No matter what happens, it’ll all be okay.”

  I nod as I swipe the tears falling down my cheeks.

  “Are you okay if I run out to grab a test?”

  I nod.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes.” She bolts toward the door.

  I’m alone.

  All alone in a hotel room...but maybe I’m not alone.

  I place my hand on my lower belly. It’s still flat...but will it be in a few months? Is there a baby in there? A baby created one drunken night between two people who clearly made some really dumb decisions?

  What we did isn’t this baby’s fault.

  And despite those dumb decisions, I can’t help but already feel some sort of intense connection unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  If there’s a baby in there, it’s half me and half Adam.

  I know we’re still in the getting to know you stage, but we’re also well past it in other ways. We’ve already decided this is real, and we’ve already pledged our commitment to one another. That makes this one lucky baby...if there is one.

  And yet...

  Life on the road is hard. We’re making it an adventure so far because that’s just the way our relationship has evolved, but what would that look like with a baby? Would I stay home and raise the child while Adam travels the country or the world with MFB? Would we ever see each other? Would he ever see his baby, or would he constantly be working?

  Even though tradition tells me a baby is the next step, that doesn’t mean I’m ready for one. It doesn’t mean we as a couple are ready for one, either. I don’t even know if he wants kids. It’s just not a conversation we’ve had yet despite everything.

  But ready or not, here one might come...pending the results of the test Kylie ran out to get for me.

  I never imagined I’d be sitting in a hotel room alone, contemplating bringing a child into this world with a rock star. If you’d have told me seven weeks ago that this would become my life, I would’ve thought you were straight up insane.
>
  And yet here I find myself...and a part of me (a much bigger part than I ever would’ve expected) is suddenly hoping it’s true.

  Without even realizing it, I’m giving up a silent prayer that this is more than just food poisoning.

  CHAPTER 49: EMILY

  I set the stick face down on the bathroom counter. I check the directions one more time. One line means not pregnant. Two lines means pregnant.

  I leave the stick there and rejoin Kylie. She starts the timer on her phone as I plop down next to her on the couch. She takes my hand in hers. “Whatever it says, I’m here for you. And you know Adam will be, too.”

  I nod, but I can’t seem to form words around the lump in my throat.

  “I have five minutes to distract you, and I’m going to use that time to tell you a little story,” she says.

  I nod as I press my lips together.

  “Once upon a time, I had a crush on the lead singer of a band. As fate would have it, I was offered the position of managing that band. I worked my ass off to impress the singer, but I knew I wasn’t on his radar.” She rolls her eyes before she continues.

  “He teased me, or he ignored me, or he was straight-up rude to me, but he never appeared to want anything more than a professional relationship. So I signed him up for a dating reality show as a way to get the band’s name out there and to get him off my mind. The drummer’s dad was one of the producers involved with the show, so it was easy to get him interviewed for a spot. He went on the show and dated all these women, and meanwhile I buried my feelings way down low. I had to for the sake of the band. I watched him date ten different women. He kissed some. He did other things with some.” She wrinkles her nose at the memory.

  “But I could tell as I was watching him date all these other women that none of them were as right for him as I was. And then one day, the singer admitted his feelings for me. And you know what?”

  I shrug.

  “In a little over two months, I’m going to marry him, and in a little less than six months, we’ll be bringing a new life into this world together. If that’s not a happy ending, I don’t know what is.”