Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(35)

“Liz.” He scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Shit. It doesn’t have to be my first choice. Having a baby now wasn’t your first choice either—”

“But—”

“No,” he said, hands gripping his thighs tight. “My go to talk. Your turn to listen. Please.”

I stopped, then nodded because fair enough.

“Okay.” His thick shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath. “This is our baby. You and me, we made it together, whether we meant to or not. Those are the facts. No matter how I might have liked my life to play out, this is what’s happening. No f*cking way am I going to be some douchebag absentee dad missing from my kid’s life or letting another man raise him.”

“Or her.”

“Or her.” He gave me a meaningful look. “Yes.”

I pretended to zip my lips closed.

“Thank you.” Yeah, his tone wasn’t sarcastic at all. “And I’m not letting you do this alone, either. No matter what Anne and Mal think of me right now, I am sticking by you however I can. We’re not together, but we’ll figure it out. The best way I can help you right now is to make sure you don’t have to worry about money.”

I took a deep breath, turning it all over inside my head. The man had a point. It would be nice to cross monetary concerns off the list. How many strings and complications the funds came with, however, concerned me. But he was Bean’s father. If he did mean to be present, as stated, then I had to accept that, embrace it even.

Give him the requested chance.

“Worrying about you today, not knowing where you were or what was going on with you … it got me thinking. This’ll f*ck with your life every bit, if not more, than it will with mine. We don’t need to add lawyers to the mix, what with your connection to Mal and everything. We can keep this simple.”

“Hmm.”

“Stop frowning.” He frowned.

“I’m thinking.”

“There’s nothing to think about. It’s already done.”

“What?”

He scratched at his beard. “Transferred money into your account today. It’s all done.”

“How did you get my account number?”

“Anne gave it to me. I think she meant it as a dare.”

My eyes felt wide as wide could be. “How much money?”

“Enough that you don’t have to worry for a while.”

“How long a while?”

He just stared at me.

Oh, whoa. Something told me a millionaire rock star’s version of a while was a whole lot longer than mine. The thought made me panicky, my fingers twisting together in my lap. Legal documents were scary, but the thought of him giving me masses of his money seemed even worse. “But lawyers and contracts and stuff. What you talked about this morning.”

“We’ll sort it out between us, like you wanted.” He seemed so calm, while I was anything but. “It’ll be okay, Liz.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in me.”

“We’re having a kid. We gotta start somewhere, right?”

There were scuff marks on my favorite boots. Quite a few of them. At least I wouldn’t be growing out of my shoes. My clothes, on the other hand, would probably need replacing before long. Most of my things were a little worn or were bought secondhand. Not as if I’d have been willing to ask Mal or Anne for a handout to fund a flashy new maternity wardrobe. They did so much for me already. It would be bizarre to not have to worry about money. We hadn’t grown up with much. I couldn’t really remember a time when money hadn’t been an issue.

“Right,” I mused.

“No big deal.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

“I appreciate you being willing to monetarily support us. That’s going to make a huge difference.” I told the floor, because looking at him seemed too hard just then. “It’s a real weight off my shoulders.”

“Listen,” he said. “I’m sorry about last night. And this morning. I’m just … I’m doing the best I can here.”

“Of course.” I smiled as bright as bright could be. “We’ll be friends for Bean’s sake.”

“Bean?”

My smile grew more genuine. “In the early stages they’re kind of bean shaped and sized.”

“Oh. Right.” His fingers lay laced in front of him, jiggling yet again. For a second, his gaze landed in the region of my belly before darting away again. “Give me a chance to catch up, get used to the idea. Then we’ll talk some more.”

“Okay.”

“And of course we’ll be friends,” he said. “We are friends.”

“Of course.”

He smiled back at me. But I don’t think either of us was feeling anything but fear just yet.





CHAPTER SEVEN

While the guys were down at the Chateau Marmont in L.A. being interviewed by Rolling Stone magazine, up in Portland a complete stranger was checking out my girl bits. The fancily framed medical degrees hanging on her office wall did nothing to detract from the awkwardness of where she put her gloved fingers.

Yep, going to the OB/GYN was just the best.

Everything with Bean was fine, by the way. And hearing her heartbeat for the first time rocked my world. She was real. This was real. I was actually going to be a mother. Amazing.