Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“This is bad,” I say out loud. “So, so freaking bad.”
“Maybe not…”
“How the hell not?” I hiss. “What am I supposed to do? Message him and be like, ‘Hey, so remember back in September when you asked me to dinner while we were getting our picture taken, and I refused, begging you to fuck me because I was horny and you were hot, and then afterward, I ran out the door while you were in the bathroom…Well, I got knocked up, and surprise, you’re the daddy!’ Do you know how many women have probably pulled that same move on him? And even if he does believe me, who’s to say he’ll even want the baby.”
We both go silent at my final words, knowing this is really my fear. My father didn’t want me. Kendall’s father didn’t want her—even if I pretend he’s dead—and now I’m pregnant by some famous guy, who has women falling all over him.
“If I tell him and he says he doesn’t want anything to do with this baby, I’m scared it might be my breaking point,” I admit softly.
“Oh, Soph.” Naomi sighs. “There’s a chance he might say that, but maybe he won’t. You won’t know until you try. Plus, it takes two to make a baby, which means he was just as much a part of this as you were.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m still nervous. He’s probably going to think I’m after his money, and it doesn’t help I work at a strip club.”
“Don’t you dare go there,” Naomi says. “You’re a single mom, who has worked her ass off to provide for her daughter and get through college. There’s no shame in what you do for a living, and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, you tell them where to shove it. Got it?”
I laugh softly, loving my cousin for having my back. “I got it.”
“Besides, you’re not even a stripper anymore. You’re a bartender. And soon you’ll be a lawyer.”
“I have to get into law school first…” I figured out, that since my due date is in June, unless the baby comes way early, I can graduate on time, have the baby, and still be able to apply to law schools for the fall. I have no idea how I’m going to juggle everything, but I’m going to damn sure try.
“You’ll get in,” she tells me. “Have a little faith.”
I release a harsh breath. “My break is almost over, and I’m starving. I’m going to grab something to eat. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Love you, Soph.”
“Love you more.”
“Impossible.”
We hang up and I click on the internet, backing out and clicking on the images. Hundreds pop up, of him with dozens of different women, at award shows, on the streets, in fancy cars, out at clubs, confirming my suspicions that he is in fact a ladies’ man, and what’s worse is he’s everywhere, in the spotlight, where I need to stay out of. I click out of the internet then pocket my phone, needing to get back to work. I’ll deal with this later.
CHAPTER THREE
EASTON
“This week we have a show in St. Louis, then two in Atlanta. From there, we’ll stop in Tampa for one show, and then head down to Miami.” My sister hands me the printout of my itinerary, knowing I’m not going to remember any of this shit—even if it’s on my calendar and in my reminders on my phone.
“When do we go back to New York?”
She eyes me speculatively, and I make a mental note to check my calendar myself so she doesn’t ask me questions. “We’ll be back the second week of December. You’ll have a couple weeks off for the holidays, aside from the New Year’s show you’re performing at, and the charity concert you’re attending as a guest, and then you’ll have another four weeks on tour.
I nod and lean back against the couch in the tour bus. It’s late, and I’m exhausted from having four shows in five days, but I can’t complain because I only have that many shows because my fans are loyal enough to buy tickets—enough that my record label has added several shows to the lineup.
“Easton, what’s going on with you?” she asks. “You’ve been acting different lately…antsy. And instead of wanting to go home, you’re wanting to go to New York, which in itself is strange, since you hate that city.”
I knew she’d catch on—Nicole notices everything. It’s why she’s part of my PR team as well as my assistant—and the best damn one I’ve ever had.
I consider telling her about what happened in New York, about the woman I met, who rocked my world in the short time we were together, but it’s pointless. The only thing I know about her is that her name is Sophia. I had never done anything like what I did with her. From the photography shoot, to kissing her, to bringing her back to my room. That’s not who I am. How I operate. I don’t do spontaneous, and I definitely don’t fuck random women. But when I asked her out and she turned me down and instead propositioned me, I was stunned. I was attracted to her, and for the first time in a long time, I went with my gut instead of thinking shit through.