After peeing on the cotton tip of the white stick as instructed, I place the cap on and place it on a piece of toilet paper on my sink. I stare anxiously as I watch the saturated cotton inside the test begin to change the lines on the test. When not one, but two pink lines pop up in the window, my breath catches.

No.

No. No.

No. No. NO!

This is the completely wrong time for this to be happening. I knew it was a possibility, but never did I think it was going to actually happen. Tyke doesn’t want a baby. He told me that himself. And while I’ve just came around to the idea of trying to let my guard down and become something more than a friend who fucks from him from time to time, I know we’re not ready for this.

Neither of us.

“It Goes Like This” – Thomas Rhett

The ringtone on my phone wakes me from a deep sleep. I roll over and grab it off the nightstand and answer when I see Trip’s name pop up.

“No rest for the wicked or what?” I ask.

He chuckles. “I’ve been up working, smartass. The track has a huge event coming up, so we’re running around like crazy trying to get things ready.”

“Damn, another event? You’re making money hand over fist now with that place.”

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“I don’t know about all that, but it’s definitely doing a lot better financially than when I first got there. My girl has done some amazing things to promote our business.”

My brother’s happy. Probably the happiest I’ve ever seen him. I’m glad he’s found someone. I didn’t understand his infatuation with Holly before, but now that I’ve met Frannie, I’m starting to understand wanting to spend all your time with one woman.

“That’s great, Trip,” I tell him. “But what does all that have to do with calling me before the rooster even fucking crows?”

“Sorry, bro, it was the only time I’d have time to call you today. I wanted to let you know that Noel spoke with the label yesterday. They want the new album done within two months. Do you have any songs for it yet?”

I sigh. “No, not yet, but I’ll get cracking, and as soon as I get out of here, hopefully I’ll have some decent lyrics and melodies together so we can go straight into the studio.”

“Awesome. I knew we could count on you. We’d never be able to make the new record without your crazy ass. You’re a lyrical genius. Hold on, Tyke.” The rustling sound of him putting his hand over the receiver while he speaks to someone else pours through my phone. “Sorry, man, gotta go. I’ll call you soon.”

“All right. Later,” I reply before we disconnect.

As I lay there, Frannie’s face is the first thing that pops into my mind as I think about leaving to reunite with my band.

This idea Frannie has about me hitting on other women to draw attention away from us messing around is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. I tried to convince her that it was a terrible idea, but she was convinced it wasn’t. She can be very persuasive because all I want to do is make her smile.

I hum a rhythm that’s been working its way into my brain over the last few days. For some reason, the urge to get back to writing music has hit me hard. I’m not sure if it’s the small piece of happiness I’ve found recently with having Frannie in my life, or the fact that I want to finish this album and get not only the band back on track, but myself as well.

I pull out my phone to type down the lyrics that hit me as I think of the melody.

You . . . you don’t see how much you mean to me.

How you make me work hard to be the man I’m supposed to be.

Frannie’s face is all I see as I type out the words. It’s true she probably doesn’t see how I really feel about her. I mean, hell, why the fuck would she believe that a recovering drug addict like me, stuck in this place, would actually have feelings for her? I’m sure she still thinks this is a relationship of convenience.

I mumble a few more sentences but nothing seems fitting so I close the app and check my email. It’s then I see the email that Frannie forwarded to me of the video of us fucking in the woods.

I can’t resist. I open the video and turn the sound down low. My eyes drift down to Frannie’s face and the expression she wears is absolutely the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She wants me. She needs me.

My cock begins to throb and swell as I remember what it feels like to be buried deep inside her. Absently, my hand drifts down into my boxers and I grab my shaft. The only way I’m going to get rid of this boner now is to rub one out.

I pause the video, needing something to help me with the job at hand. I reach into my shower bag and grab a bottle of lotion before pulling my shirt off and lying down. My boxer briefs quickly get shoved down my hips, before I squeeze a small amount of lotion into my hand. The sensation of my fingers around my stiff cock, stroking, is nowhere as pleasurable as Frannie’s pussy, but it’ll have to do.

I restart the video, the moans coming from Frannie, coupled with watching me fuck her on film quickly causes every nerve in my body to tingle. My pace quickens and the moment I see Frannie come, I lose it. I close my eyes and try to fool my brain into thinking I’m balls deep in her, sliding against her slick flesh while giving into my own pleasure.

I shoot my load all over my stomach and lower chest as I stifle back a moan. I rub my thumb over my head and wipe the rest of the dripping come off my tip.

Holy fuck. This woman is going to be the death of me if I don’t start banging her more than twice a month. After cleaning up, I’m finally relaxed, and drift off to sleep with thoughts of Frannie on my mind.




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