She kept the baby. The words drum into my head over and over in time with my heart, the underlying rhythm to my swirling thoughts.
I have a kid.
What the actual fuck?
I push through the people in the hallway. Why are there so many fucking people backstage right now? Shouldn’t the roadies be striking the set? We don’t usually allow groupies. But there are at least two chicks I don’t recognize talking to Mason and Marcus in the greenroom. I veer away from it, leery of random fans. No need to give them some story to sell about me being an asshole. Or worse, if there are reporters there that I just can’t see.
I have to get out of here. I need …
Fuck, I don’t even know what I need. My mind is roiling. I feel like I might hurl. My first instinct is to call my dad. Tell him everything, even though I didn’t tell him when I found out Sam was pregnant years ago.
But now it’s too late. He died a few years ago of a massive heart attack when I was at Juilliard. Grief swoops in to mix with everything else, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
I need to move. I need to play. I need to hit something. I need to scream all my frustrations into the world. I need to do all of it at once, but I can’t manage to do any of it.
My keyboard is being packed up as we speak. Even if it weren’t, I can’t go play on stage with people still milling around. Which is also why I can’t scream or hit anything, much as I might want to. People, people everywhere, and not a single soul who could understand what a mindfuck I’m dealing with right now.
Wait …
That might not be entirely true.
Danny might get it. He’s a dad. He’s accidentally knocked up two different chicks. At least the second one wanted to stick around. And he wanted her to.
If anyone might understand, even the tiniest amount, it would be him.
Marcus would probably congratulate me and not understand why I’m so fucking pissed. Or maybe he would, but he’d try to calm me down anyway.
Mason would cover his mouth, eyes wide, and say, “Oh, damn! Better you than me, bro.” Because that’s generally his attitude about everything. It was mine too, actually, until now.
And Blaire …
Fuck. I don’t even know what Blaire would think. How she’ll react when she finds out.
I stop in my tracks, roadies carrying instruments and equipment swerving around me. One claps me on the shoulder. “Good show tonight, man. You guys killed it.”
I grunt in acknowledgment but can’t muster up more than that, my thoughts still on Blaire.
Our relationship isn’t serious. Despite the speculation that her, Mason, and me are a throuple or whatever, that’s not how it is. Yeah, she sleeps with both of us. But not at the same time. We’re all aware and consenting adults. We like each other, we’re friends, and it saves everyone the hassle and risk of dealing with groupies. At least for Mason and me. But I imagine Blaire has some of the same problems, at least with not getting boned for bragging rights and then there’s those douchebags that will slip a condom off without letting the girl know. Easier to have friends with benefits you can trust. For everyone.
But you don’t sleep with someone, even casually, without a certain amount of emotional involvement. I care about Blaire. I know she cares about me. And while we’re both free to sleep with whoever we like, I don’t do that. At least I haven’t since Danny became a dad. Like I said, not worth the risk.
And then Blaire pops up in front of me, the general marshaling her troops, directing the show behind the show. A smile spreads across her face at first. “Hey, Aaron! Looking for me?” Then the smile falls as she takes me in, and she steps closer, running a hand up my arm. “Hey,” she says softly, and I force my eyes to focus on hers. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Part of me wants to blurt out everything that just happened. Sam. The baby. She kept the baby. I’m going to meet my baby tomorrow. My baby’s not a baby anymore. She’s a she, and she’s fucking four. Four goddamn years old, and I’m just finding out.
But I swallow all that down and give a shake of my head. “Where’s Danny? I need to talk to him.”
She narrows her eyes in suspicion, her fingers tightening around my forearm. “He went back to the hotel already. You know how he is. Between Eli and Ava, he won’t stay for longer than a five minute postshow interview these days. Why? Did something go wrong during the show? Everything looked fine from my end.”
I shake my head again. “No. I just need to talk to him about something.”
“What? What’s wrong? Does it have to do with the girl you pulled backstage at intermission? The one Marcus serenaded? Kendra said that you know her.”
A hysterical laugh breaks free. “Yeah. Yeah, I know her. Or I used to. I thought so anyway. Maybe I never knew her as well as I thought after all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I pull my arm from her grip and use it to wipe my eyes, which are unaccountably wet. “Never mind. I’m heading back to the hotel.”
She examines me with her narrowed blue eyes again, not buying anything. “She’s your ex, isn’t she?”
My gaze sharpens on her. “Yeah.”
She nods, like she suspected all along. “She’s the reason you only do casual things.”
It burns my throat to admit it, but … “Yeah.” I never really got over her. I hated the way she pushed me away, wouldn’t even talk to me that Christmas break after we left for college. My brows pull together. “Wait a second,” I whisper as the pieces fall into place. “She wouldn’t see me because she was pregnant. She didn’t want me to know.”
“What?” Blaire shrieks. “Your ex was pregnant? When?” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Who’s the father?”
Dammit. I wasn’t going to tell her yet. Not like this. I mean, I knew I’d have to at some point. But I was hoping after Danny helped me get my head on straight. If he even can. Either way, I wanted a game plan before telling Blaire. The fact that she and I have an ongoing thing makes involving her more complicated. But as the band’s assistant, there’s no way she wouldn’t need to know. Especially since I plan on being part of my baby’s life now that I know it—she—exists.
What was her name again?
Madison.
Madison Erin.
The knife twists deeper. She named our daughter after me. At least to some degree.
Blaire’s fingers clench my arm again, her nails digging in. “Answer me, Aaron. Who. Is. The. Father?”
I raise my eyes to hers. “Me.”
She flinches, almost flinging my arm away from her. “Get a paternity test.”
I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “We were together. She didn’t cheat on me. The kid’s mine.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She purses her lips. “Your ex suddenly comes out of the woodwork now that you’ve made it big with a story that she kept your baby and kept it a secret?” She shakes her head. “Even if she’s telling the truth, you need a positive paternity test for legal purposes.”
My eyes flare at the mention of legal anything. “What?”
“When are you meeting the child in question?” Whatever emotion Blaire betrayed at finding out I have a long lost baby out in the world is now closeted away, replaced by her problem-solving mode. And this is why Blaire’s awesome at her job. She doesn’t back down, doesn’t buckle under pressure, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. Especially not us.
“Tomorrow.”
She nods, hugging her iPad to her chest. “Okay. Good. Let me get in touch with the attorney. It’ll be different than with Eli, because he wasn’t born yet. This should be easier and quicker.” She stares at a point over my shoulder, her fingers tapping on the edge of the iPad as she thinks. Then she refocuses on me. “Let’s start with an over-the-counter test just to confirm. If you want to sue for custody, we’ll need a legal test. But we can probably get a home cheek swab deal at a pharmacy nearby. Go back to the hotel. I get
why you want to talk to Danny. Text me when you’re done.”
With that, she brushes past me, calling out to one of the roadies to be careful with the piece of stage he’s hauling out and almost bashing into a wall.
Fuck. Sam’s going to be pissed if I show up demanding a paternity test.
I harden my jaw. But what should she expect, keeping my kid from me for four fucking years?
Blaire’s right. It’s best to confirm paternity before we pursue anything.
I don’t want to take Sam to court. But dammit, if she tries to block me from seeing my kid, I will if I have to.
Chapter Six
Aaron
The urge to hit things has mostly subsided as I drag myself to Danny’s suite down the hall from mine. I texted him from the car letting him know I was on my way.
I’m crashing hard, between the adrenaline wearing off after the show combined with the emotional rollercoaster of the last hour, I just want to collapse. Drink some beer. Maybe whisky. And see if Danny has any sage advice to offer.
I knock softly at the door, mindful of the fact that Eli’s probably in bed. Danny answers and ushers me inside with a soft, “Hey, man. This is unexpected.” He closes the door behind me, his gaze probing as he takes in my hair sticking up in every direction and the exhaustion dragging at every cell in my body.
Ava’s standing in the living room dressed in leggings and an oversized shirt, one hand resting on her baby bump. I swallow hard, imagining what Sam must’ve looked like pregnant. Hating that I missed that. Hating that she kept me in the dark all this time.
“Are you alright, Aaron?” The question is from Danny, and I swivel my head to look at him.
“Uh, no. Not really.”
Ava steps closer to me and wraps her arms around me. At first I’m so surprised that I just freeze. She’s nice, and I’ve gotten to know her since she joined the tour, especially once she and Danny went public with their relationship, but we don’t really hug. I gingerly wrap my arms around her shoulders, painfully aware of Danny standing a few feet away. When I glance at him, though, he’s smiling softly at his fiancee.
She pulls back after giving my torso a squeeze and looks up at me. “You looked like you could use a hug. I’ll leave you two alone to talk.” Crossing to Danny, she cups his cheek and gives him a kiss.
“Don’t wait up for me if you’re tired,” he murmurs softly.
“Don’t worry about me.” She smiles when he gives her a look like she should know he worries about her not matter what.
Watching the two of them together makes me ache. That could’ve been Sam and me. Sure, we were young. But I would’ve been there for her. If only she’d given me the chance.
Danny watches Ava move to their bedroom, not saying anything until she closes the door with a soft click. Then he turns to me, his eyes roaming my face again. “Beer?”
I nod. “Please.”
“Have a seat.” He motions to the living room, and I plop myself down in one of the overstuffed chairs.
Danny hands me an open bottle before settling across from me on the couch with his own, propping his feet up on the coffee table and eyeing me as he takes a sip. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I chuckle. “What? I can’t just come hang out with you?”
He arches an eyebrow in clear disbelief. “Of course you’re always welcome. But don’t you usually hang out with Blaire?”
“‘Hang out.’ Is that what we’re calling it now?”
He laughs. “Boning? Is that better? I know you guys aren’t serious, not with her and Mason having the same sort of deal, but I know she’s your friend too.”
“Yeah.” I pick at the label of my beer bottle, avoiding his gaze. Seeing Sam today threw me for a loop all by itself. Finding out we have a baby … I’m so fucked up that thinking about Blaire and all of that together sends the beer swirling in my stomach again.
Danny plants one foot on the ground and points at me with the neck of his bottle. “Wait. Is that what this is about? The whole thing with you and Blaire and Mason?”
“Ha.” I shake my head and take a drink. “I wish. I feel like that would be an easier mess to untangle.”
Danny’s brows pull together, and he crosses his ankles again. “Then what’s up?”
I take a deep breath, hold it for a second, then just blurt it out, ripping-off-the-band-aid style. “I have a kid.”
Danny’s still, not even blinking. “I’m sorry, what?”
I sigh. “Sam. The girl that Marcus pulled on stage tonight? We were together in high school. I accidentally got her pregnant the summer after graduation. She told me she was going to have an abortion. Well … I found out tonight that she didn’t. I have a four-year-old daughter who I’ve never met.”
His blue eyes go wide. “Holy shit,” he whispers.
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
He studies me for a long moment without saying anything. “What are you gonna do?”
“That is the question.” I shake my head and take a swig of beer, relishing the cool bite. “According to Blaire I’m getting a paternity test before anything else.”
“Yeah. Makes sense.” He raises his eyebrows. “Surprised you told Blaire, though. Or was she there when you found out?”
“Ah, well … no. She wasn’t there. But I bumped into her on my way to find you and sort of let it slip.”
“Let it slip?”
“I was still in shock. I don’t even remember what I said, but it was enough to make Blaire dig. You know how she is.”
He nods sagely. “I do, yes. But you know she’s got our back. I’m sure yours and Mason’s particularly.”
“Hey. She doesn’t play favorites.”
He quirks an eyebrow again. “I wouldn’t know annnything about that,” he drawls.
Lifting my beer to my lips again, I flip him off with my free hand. He laughs quietly, muffling the sound with his fist.
Is that going to be me soon? Being careful not to wake a kid sleeping in the next room?
Shit.
The thought is terrifying. But the alternative is not being involved with my kid’s life. Madison. I need to start thinking of her by name, and not some nameless, faceless baby. Not that I’ve seen her face. But she’s four. Hell, she’s older than Eli. Definitely not a baby.
“Dude. I’ve been a dad longer than you have.”
Danny chokes, swallows, coughs, and hits himself on the chest before raising his eyes to mine. “So should I be asking you for advice instead?”
“Ha. You’re fucking hilarious.”
He settles back on the couch, grinning at me. “That’s why you’re here, right? It’s not like we hang out on our own, just you and me. You’re here because I’m the one with a kid and you’re trying to wrap your head around the fact that you have one too. Even though you didn’t want one.”
Tapping my nose with one hand, I point at him with the other. “Got it in one.”
“So what do you want to know?”
I shrug. “I don’t even know. What do I need to know?”
He studies me again, those blue eyes steely and unnerving. “The kid comes first. Always. That’s the most important thing.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “Okay. And?”
He shrugs. “That’s the long and short of it. I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do. Marcus’ll be pissed if you leave us hanging, especially partway through a tour. But we have a break coming up. Use it to figure shit out. Get the paternity test, just to be safe.”
“She’s not—” I start, but he holds up a hand to cut me off.
“I get it, dude. I really do. She was your girl. You know she was pregnant. The timeline fits. Odds are, the kid is yours.” He lifts a hand, palm up. “But others, like Blaire, are going to be suspicious. If there’s proof, no one can call you a dumbass when you pay for shit. Or when you demand visitation. Because I’m assuming that’s at least a possibility?”
I nod. “I don’t like the word
demand, necessarily. But yeah, I want the chance to get to know her at least.”
“Her?”
Another nod. “I have a daughter,” I whisper. “Madison.”
“Got any pictures?”
“Not yet. I was so stunned I didn’t even think to ask for that. I just gave her my number and told her to text me to set up the meeting.”
Danny’s face gets wary. “Are you sure that was smart?”
“No.” I scrub my face with my hand. “Do you always do the smart thing when you’re reacting on instinct, adrenaline, and pure shock?”
Danny’s mouth twists, his gaze abstracting like he’s remembering something. “Can’t say that I do. What are you going to do if she doesn’t get in touch, though?”
I lift one hand in a gesture of uncertainty and let it drop. “Look up her parents, I guess. From the sounds of it, they’re probably in the same place. Hire a private investigator. I’m sure Blaire will have ideas or a list of people to help me out.”
With a bark of a laugh, Danny nods. “Yeah. Probably so. Hopefully it won’t come to that. But whatever you decide, however you agree with the mom to divide custody and payments and back child support or whatever, you need to get it in writing. It needs to be legal and on the up and up.” He holds up a hand again when I open my mouth, anticipating my objection. “I know you have history with this girl, maybe even loved her once.”
Swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth, I nod.
He nods back. “But it’s been a long time. And now there’s a child involved. Things need to be spelled out, that way everyone knows what’s what and there’s no room for interpretation and misunderstandings.”
I swallow and drain my beer. “Is that what you did with Eli’s mom?”
He nods. “Yup. Had lawyers draw everything up, paid her part of her money upfront and the rest after Eli was safely in my custody.” He points a finger at me. “After confirming the pregnancy and a positive paternity test that the baby was mine. She tried to hit me up for more money once, when he was a few months old. And one time she tried to see him. But the terms of our contract were clear. No room for wiggle. She got those two payments, plus her medical expenses covered. And then she agreed to leave us alone for good. That was our deal.”
Everything I Want Page 3
