Page 119 of Rockstar Baby
“I get it.” He wrapped himself around me, crossing his arms over my chest until I was completely surrounded in his warmth and comforting smell. “I regret you had to do any of this alone. That I missed even a minute. I wish to God I’d picked up those calls. But there’s something I haven’t told you about a situation in my past—”
“A woman.”
His lack of answer was answer enough.
I swallowed deeply and stared straight ahead until the bright swirls of paint on the brushes in the sink blurred together. I wanted to curl into him and never, ever leave. But somehow, I stood strong. “I can’t hear about any of that today.”
“Okay. Whatever you need.”
“Right now, I need you to go,” I said brokenly. I hated that I was on the verge of tears again. Still. I also hated like hell to let him out of my sight for a second.
What if this was the last time I ever saw him? Would I survive it?
But if he stayed, I would crumble. He would sneak his way under my defenses, and I needed to do what was best for my child—not me. It would never be about just me and my needs again. It was one thing if he breezed in and out of my life. Quite another if he did the same thing with my baby.
“Ivy, baby, please.” His husky voice against my ear was nearly my undoing. “Let me stay and make this up—”
I let out a dry laugh. “We can’t make this up in bed like we did everything else.”
“Christ, I didn’t mean like that—”
“Rory, just go. Please.” The shuddering breath he released made me toss him a bone. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
If you’re still around.
He didn’t answer for a minute or more. All he did was hold me and let out more of those shaky, pain-filled breaths. Each one tore through me.
I came so close to turning and taking it all back. All I wanted was for him to stay. For real. Not just for me, but for the baby. For love, not only responsibility. It was all too soon, I knew, and I was expecting far too much. I wanted the fairy tale, and he was a flesh and blood man.
Except he’d been the reason I’d dreamed so big in the first place. Because deep down, I knew we could live that life. It wouldn’t be perfect, but we could be happy together.
All three of us could be.
Or we could have been if he wasn’t so attached to escape routes. And a rockstar never changed his spots, did he?
When Rory finally let me go, I wanted to sob. Yet somehow my eyes stayed dry.
“For you, I’ll go. Not for me. If it was up to me, I’d sleep on this truck floor if necessary. If that’s what it would take to prove to you I’m not going anywhere. You’re the one making me go, not me.”
He walked to the door and took a step down, then another before stopping and turning back. “I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early. Make sure you rest. And dream of me, as I dream of you.”
The last bit I wasn’t sure if I’d heard or imagined. He was gone before I could ask.
I squeezed my eyes closed and let out a tired laugh.
Big surprise there.
Twenty-One
I tuggedthe brim of my pink baseball hat lower over my eyes. The sun was brutal and my to-do list seemed never ending. I was ticking things off on my app on my phone, the letters jittering a little as I walked.
I missed my coffee so damn much.
The measly eight ounces a day I was allowed per my doctor seemed more like a tease. Who could survive on that? Especially when sleep had been non-existent in my life.
All night long, the shock and panic in his eyes were replaying on a loop.
Rory was back.
