Page 52 of Rockstar Baby Daddy

Gavin had been gone for two weeks, and the truth was I didn’t have time to miss him. Not because I was incredibly busy, which I was, but because he’d kept true to his word and made it impossible to miss him.

He called regularly, sent photos with different celebrities in green rooms around the country. He snapped pictures of himself or a grouchy Alex along with other reluctant band members in front of iconic landmarks in Los Angeles, New York, Atlanta, and Chicago. He made it as if I was on tour with him and I appreciated the effort.

I loved him even more for keeping his word and for making such an effort to be present during my pregnancy.

And in return, I kept my promise. I told him about the middle-of-the-day craving I had for cheese puffs with mayo and mustard sandwiches. I hesitated to let him know about the glory of melted chocolate candy bars mixed with peanut butter and brie, but a promise was a promise, so I shared the craving and the photos with him. I told him all about the weird dreams that plagued my nights, even the ones about him. Even the sexy ones.

The worst or maybe the best part? Gavin ate it up. He appreciated and reveled in every message; every weird quirk of pregnancy, he indulged as if he were here in Jackson’s Ridge with me. That made it difficult to keep the distance I knew I needed to keep. Made it impossible not to fall deeper in love with Mr. Unattainable. Mr. On-The-Road. Mr. Too-Far-Out-Of-My-Reach.

It was a situation made even more complicated by pregnancy hormones that I couldn’t blame for my feelings, but I could blame for their intensity. Women were biologically wired to be attracted to men who were good providers, and Gavin, despite his rock star status, was the best. Not just at providingthings,but at providing emotional support. A dose of humor. All the things that made a difficult pregnancy a little less difficult.

It was, in the truest sense, a case of conflicting emotions. Gavin was larger than life when it came to his music and the interviews, and when it came to me and the baby he was amazing, but in a real-life, salt-of-the-earth kind of way. He was no different than Cal or Casey or Antonio were with their significant others. Except he was gorgeous, and famous.

The doorbell rang, pulling me from my deep thoughts about Gavin Ross, his intentions and what it meant for my poor confused heart. I was as grateful as I was wary of the interruption, but with nothing better to do, I heaved myself off the sofa and made my way to the front door. It wasn’t Gavin, and I hadn’t expected it to be, because he and Alex had shared with me his schedule for the next two weeks. Instead, I pulled the door open to a man in a dark blue uniform with a baby face.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Suzie Wright?”

I frowned and nodded. “That’s me.”

“Special delivery, ma’am. I just need a quick signature.” He flashed a toothy white smile while I signed the clipboard, then handed me a box that was too small to be flowers or food yet too big to be jewelry. I knew, without a doubt, the sender was Gavin. The man seemed to be addicted to giving gifts, whether or not I wanted or needed them. He was good at it, but I would rather have him here with me, the sound of his laughter wreaking havoc on my body and hormones.

Intrigued, I opened the box and gasped at what was inside. It was old school, but the fact of the matter was that I’d have found a way to listen to Gavin’s new album even if it was sent to me on vinyl. Thankfully, I hadn’t updated my stereo system in more than a decade, which meant I could still play CDs without trouble.

I popped the disc into the slot and curled up on the sofa, the way I always did when a new Gavin Ross album hit the shelves. Quickly, it became clear that I was too emotional, too hormonal to listen objectively to his latest work.

“The Girlwiththe Glasses” was a gritty yet soulful bluesy rock song about a girl the singer was crushing on. She had a rainbow collection of eyeglasses and each day he played a game with himself, guessing which color she would wear. Some might consider it egotistical to see myself in that song, but I couldn’t help it. The song brought tears to my eyes as I listened to it three for four times before moving on to the next track.

I listened to “Hot & Sweaty” with an embarrassed smile, not totally sure it was about our night together but fairly certain. Each song felt like a love letter of sorts, from Gavin to me. Whether the song was about sex or love, or a special moment between us captured in time, by the time I got to the last song, I was a soggy, bawling mess.

“Better For You” was the song that broke me. It was all about Gavin’s fear of fatherhood, of repeating his own father’s mistakes even while he hoped and wished that he would be better. I knew him well enough to read between the lines and my heart was thoroughly touched that I meant so much to him, that our child meant so much to him, he’d captured it for posterity in song.“I promise to be better for you. To be everything you need in a mentor, a fighter, a protector, a man.”It was exactly the wish I would make for the child growing inside me, and somehow, Gavin had captured it perfectly.

The entire album was perfect. It was heartfelt and the lyrics were undeniably fantastic. It was his best work to date, and I couldn’t stop crying, not even as I sent Persy a quick text to come over.

She knocked and stepped inside with a concerned look. “Suzie, what’s wrong?” She was at my side in a flash, brows dipped in concern as she gripped my shoulders.

“It’s Gavin,” I said around a few hiccups. “He sent me his new album today. It’s magnificent, Persy.”

“But it doesn’t release until next week,” she said with a frown. “Can I listen?”

I nodded and reclaimed my seat on the sofa. “That’s why I called you. I need some perspective.”

Persy nodded and dropped down beside me, one hand on top of mine as she closed her eyes and motioned for me to play the album.

I let the whole album play, tears streaming down my face as I tried to force the lyrics, the music, the themes, to bounce off the barrier I tried to erect around my heart. My soul. There was no way the words meant what theyseemedto mean; it just wasn’t believable. It flew in the face of logic, in the face of the way things worked in the real world. No matter the chemistry between us, Gavin and I lived far different lives, and his was on the road, with gorgeous groupies willing to satisfy his every sexual fantasy. My life was here, in Jackson’s Ridge. With my baby.

That was just the way things were. The way the universe had arranged them and trying to fight that was like trying to stop a hurricane.

“Holy shit.” Persy’s shock cut through my thoughts quickly and I turned to her, a question in my eyes. “Gavin Ross is totally in love with you. Madly and deeply and with his whole heart in love with you.”

I shook my head against her words because I could not let them take root, could not start to believe that. “We’re friends, Persy. Friends who are having a baby together.”

She nodded. “I get why you’re telling yourself that ridiculous lie, but you need to get real, Suzie. A man doesn’t write deep and soulful lyrics like that for a friend or a bang buddy, they just don’t. He loves you, and you need to decide what you’re going to do about it before you lose him. Is that what you want?”

I shook my head. “No, but it’s inevitable. I can’t let myself believe that he feels for me what I feel for him. It’s madness. I can’t afford to be mad, not with a baby on the way.”

“Honey, that’s when we are allowed to be themostmad. Hormones and growing a human are the perfect excuses to go a little bit crazy. Put yourself out there. Lay your heart bare and let that gorgeous man pick it up and claim it as his.”

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