“I really love that song you do … Shit…”

He laughed while my face slowly started to burn.

“No, I know the name.” How embarrassing and frustrating. “I do. I had it on repeat just the other day.”

“It’s fine.”

“Don’t tell me.” I closed my eyes, searching for the information inside my head. To have my own body rebelling against me, turning me into one big giant, idiotic walking baby-making machine. It wasn’t fair. “Just give me a minute.”

He laughed at me some more.

“Gah. Stupid pregnancy hormones.” I stopped dead.

The whites of Vaughan’s eyes suddenly seemed huge and glaringly bright. Yet again I faced down man fear. I don’t know why. It’s not like there could be any possible chance it was his kid I carried. The irony of a guy who got down to death metal being scared of a pregnant girl was not lost on me.

Way to keep a secret. The minute I said it, I wanted to slap myself silly. Either that or buy myself a muzzle. My pregnancy had been kept under the general populace’s radar, and I really wanted to keep it that way.

“I’d prefer that information didn’t get repeated,” I said, dropping my voice and moving a little closer to the man. “It’s just that it’s early days, and—”

“Vaughan.” Ben stuck his hand out to the man with an excessive amount of male zest. “How you doing?”

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“Yeah, good, Ben.”

“See you met Liz.” He pushed the long since requested juice into my spare hand, liberating the beer from my other. Then he cracked the ale open and drank deep.

“Yeah, we were just talking,” said Vaughan, the fear of babies happily gone from his face, replaced once more with his friendly smile. Thank goodness. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. “Turns out she’s a fan.”

“She is?”

“I am,” I confirmed. “I had ‘Stop’ on repeat all last week.”

Nailed it.

“How about that.” Ben’s smile looked about as natural, and as comfortable, as a polyester pantsuit in June. Whatever he was up to, it wasn’t good. Then, just to confirm my thoughts, he slid his arm around my neck, pulling me in close. Only not as you would a girlfriend or a lover. Nope, nothing like that at all. “Liz is Mal’s new sister-in-law. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yep.” Funny, I’d always loved it when he called me that. This time, however, was different. I took a sip of the apple juice to try to cool myself down.

Brows drawn in, Vaughan looked back and forth between the two of us, obviously confused. “Didn’t realize.”

“Yeah. Sorry to put the fear of Mal into you, but she’s out of bounds. Okay, man?” Ben planted a kiss on top of my head, then went that last irrevocable step too far and actually ruffled my hair like I was snotty-nosed kid. “Word with you in the bedroom, Liz?”

“Sure thing, Ben,” I said through gritted teeth.

He ushered me through the crowd, with a hand to the small of my back once more. The door to the main bedroom was closed—probably the only reason it too hadn’t filled up with people.

I didn’t say a word until he’d closed us in. Then I still didn’t say a word.

Instead, I threw my drink in his face.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, wiping apple juice out of his eyes.

“How dare you ruffle my hair like I’m your kid sister or something.” I dropped my empty glass onto the carpet. “How dare you?”

“I was doing you a favor.”

“Like hell you were.”

The man set aside his beer aside and stormed forward, towering over me. “The guy is a fucking man-whore, Liz. Nearly every night on tour he’s had a different woman.”

“What utter crap.”

“I’m not lying to you. He was flirting with you, trying to get into your pants. It’s what he does.”

“I’m not talking about him.”

Ben blinked.

“You and I, we are not together, remember? If I want to flirt with a guy, I will. It is none of your business.”

“You’re pregnant with my child.” The anger in his eyes—a smarter woman would have stepped back. Screw that. I went nose to nose with him. Well, as close as I could get to it, with the height difference. Next time we fought I was definitely bringing a ladder.

“That’s right, Ben, I’m carrying our child,” I said, breathing hard. “And I’m on tour to help us to figure out how to get along and be parents. Something that involves us having mutual respect for one another.”

“I got respect for you, Liz. What I haven’t got is the ability to stand by while some player tries to chat you up.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me you haven’t had sex with one of those wonderfully liberated, barely dressed ladies out there. Let me know this isn’t just some messed-up double standard you’re trying on me.”

He couldn’t do it. His lips slammed shut and he shifted, edging back, putting room between us. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Hearts are dumb like that. At least he didn’t try to give me excuses.

“No?” I asked.

Still nothing.

“We’re not together. You have no right to try and warn a guy off me. And treating me like you did—like a child, ruffling my hair, calling me ‘sweetheart’ that way.…” My eyes were itchy, turning liquid. Like hell. “How fucking dare you.”

I should have stormed out. I wanted to. The thought of losing it in front of the cool party crowd, however, stopped me cold. There had to be an alternative. Just a few minutes and I could pull myself together, go find my room. “I need to use the bathroom.”

My dignity was small, about the same size as my bladder since the invention of Bean. I pretty much had to pee constantly, so it wasn’t a complete lie, despite the sudden rising damp in my eyes. Dumb hormones. Idiot men and their god damn sperm. I strode into the grandiose bathroom and slammed the door shut. A tear trickled down my cheek, followed fast by another.

And the girl in the mirror, she still wasn’t glowing. How fucking unfair.

I went and did my business in the toilet, scrubbed my hands and then my face. All of the emotions inside of me kept building up, threatening to leak out again. This situation with Ben was doing my head in. So I did what any sensible knocked-up twenty-one-year-old college dropout would do and climbed into the massive, empty sunken tub to cool down and reassess my life. It was actually quite comfortable. In the distance I could hear the party carrying on with chatter and music. You’d think an upmarket hotel such as this would have thicker walls.




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