Owned (Rockstar Romance) (Lost in Oblivion Book 5) (19 page)

Kind of sweet.

Nick stepped away. “I’m just going to go—”

The snowball hit him square in the face, knocking his hat right off his head. He sputtered snow out of his mouth, his eyes narrowing as he saw the jackass responsible.

“Kagan,” he growled.

Simon wasn’t exactly trying to be circumspect. He’d decided to play king of the mountain and ascended a giant ball of snow. Even now, he was crafting his next weapon.

Heavy on the ice. Jerk.

“Whoops, sorry. I didn’t see you over there.”

“Simon, come down here,” Margo demanded.

“Why don’t
you
come up here? I’m the king. You can be my queen,
if
you play your cards right.”

“Because I don’t want to get all—”

“Sorry, baby!” Simon lobbed his next missile at her and she squealed, not unlike Lexi. But the bending over and creating her own implement of mass destruction was all her.

Good job, Margo
.

While Simon had been busy harassing his almost-wife, Nick had packed together a snow weapon of his own.

“Wow, low blow, Kagan,” Nick called out, waiting until Simon glanced his way to aim and fire.

Direct hit.

Then Margo let hers fly, and Simon grunted and flailed his arms, losing his footing. “Oh shit!” And his ass fell right off his mountain. Into a snowbank.

The ball at the top of Simon’s ski hat bobbled in the snow then disappeared.

Laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, Nick bent at the waist to grip his knees.

Damn, he was having fun.

L
ila stared
out the front door at the manic snow war with her belly full of breakfast and counted backward how many days she was late.

Since she was on the pill, her periods were light and sometimes inconsistent. She occasionally missed one, and no big deal. She took her pill religiously. Like to the minute practically. She’d never missed even once, so she wasn’t worried.

Exactly.

Her Healthwise phone app had chimed this morning when she’d been in that land between asleep and awake, and she’d fumbled for it to see a reminder that she was a week overdue.

That was on top of not getting one at all last month.

But she wasn’t even concerned. Statistically, the chances she could’ve gotten knocked up were so small that they weren’t even worth listing. They hadn’t been in the baby-making room long enough for it to work, and last month when it could’ve happened—if it had—would’ve had to be in a window where she wasn’t anywhere near the preggo palace.

Though her mother had sent her that afghan she’d made, and it could’ve been stored temporarily in that room—

Now she was descending into crazy thoughts.

So she was standing in the doorway, watching everyone have fun outside, running like maniacs, whooping it up, while she debated with herself.

There were ways to find out easily and simply, of course. That was what she’d done the first time, so many years ago. A quick trip to the store and all nice and verified.

She wasn’t ready to be verified. She didn’t want to deal with this situation at all. Not at this particular juncture, when she was newly engaged and Oblivion was going back into the studio. Finally. After an entire year, they were getting back together, and they were going to cut an amazing album.

They’d better or she might just maim each of them, slowly and without mercy.

She’d certainly been under plenty of stress, exactly why she hadn’t paid much attention to the first missed one. It had happened before. And everything else had been normal. She hadn’t been eating the woodwork, or sleeping way past her alarm, or needing to undo the button on her jeans after a meal.

Like she was right now.

All in all, she wasn’t feeling too sexy, so she’d eagerly gone right to sleep the night before. But Nick would only be delayed so long. Of course she could say no. He didn’t pressure her, ever. Cajoling was different. It was more that he’d start wondering what was up. Normally her libido matched his in every way.

Probably how she’d gotten into this pickle.

Possible pickle.

Because she liked—loved—
his
pickle just a wee bit too much.

Worrying about it wouldn’t get her anywhere. She was facing things, as she always did. She’d calmly and rationally made an appointment with her very in-demand OB-GYN.

For February first.

Only a little over a month away. Christmas was imminent. After that, Oblivion would be back in the studio, and they’d all be overloaded with work. Dex Munroe would try to shoehorn his way into everything, thanks to Donovan’s directive, and she’d have to be on her toes.

Not contemplating maternity pants and how she’d gone from last Christmas, married to another man and not even truly able to be with Nick, to engaged to Nick and possibly—

Nope. She wasn’t anything except happily stuffed with ham. And Nick could just keep his sweet gherkin to himself for the rest of the day.

Little late there, huh, Leelee?

Taking a bracing breath, she opened the door and stepped outside into a winter wonderland. The sky was that crisp, cerulean blue that she’d only ever seen in upstate New York after a snowstorm. Such a clean, pristine slate, with only a few puffy clouds to mar the view.

The snow should’ve been pristine too, if not for all the tracks and gouges and piles everywhere. Oblivion and Warning Sign and everyone who came with them had made quite the mess. From the doorway, she counted three snow forts, a gigantic snow mountain that even now Simon was packing more on to, and what appeared to be a snow racing track, complete with Dylan and Lexi and their parents pushing mini dump trucks.

Best of all was all the laughter. So much laughter, ringing out from everywhere. She smiled and took a deep breath of the crisp, cold air. There was nothing like being home with her family and friends at the holidays.

Absolutely nothing.

She took a step and let out a cry as her feet went sliding out from under her. She landed awkwardly on her ass. It was well-padded for sure, but still, ouch.

Without thinking, her hand went to her belly. Panic flared and she took another deep breath, forcing it back. That was yet another reason this absolutely could not be an issue yet. Nick wasn’t the only one who wasn’t ready. She wasn’t either. After miscarrying once, she couldn’t imagine going through that again. Every little blip would make her mental. The timing could not have been more wrong.

So she couldn’t be yet. Simple as that.

“Hey, you okay?” She glanced up as Nick crouched beside her, his expression adorably worried. Hot on his heels were Jazz and Harper. “We were on our way over to you when you wiped out.”

“Nothing hurt but my pride. Evidently it’s pretty round though and can take a pounding.”

Nick grinned. “It sure can.”

Jazz’s eyes went wide and she popped a hand over her mouth, giggling.

“I mean—” Lila shook her head and sighed. “Never mind. Let me up.”

He did let her up, but by doing that annoying swooping up thing he’d become fond of lately. Only this time he groaned and wavered and nearly dropped her, making Jazz—pregnant Jazz—do her best to take one leg while Harper grabbed for a leg and an arm.

“Really?” Lila huffed. “Really?”

“Sorry. Just miscalculated. Are you getting heavier or am I getting weaker?”

“Oh my God. Do you want me to kill him or should I?” Jazz asked.

“No, I will.” Margo appeared at her other side, surrounded by big, gawking men. Specifically Simon, Gray, and Deacon, the biggest man of all. “I’ve been craving the chance for years.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nick mumbled. “I mean because I’m still messed up from the fight.”

“From when Simon beat your ass? Yeah. Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.”

“I’m choosing to ignore you, Margo. I know you’re disgruntled because I implied you hungered for a glimpse of my penis.”

“Why you obnoxious—”

“Children,” Lila barked. “Later.”

Nick set Lila down on her feet. Must be he’d decided he couldn’t risk toting her any farther, since she’d gained a metric ton.

Lovely. More fuel for her worry pile.

Though, seriously, she hadn’t gained that much. Maybe five pounds. Possibly seven. Hardly more than a mention in the scheme of anything but her pants.

Lord, she couldn’t wait to get inside and change into leggings. Stretchy fabric for the win.

“Let’s go inside the café and have wine. Lots of wine,” Margo suggested, sliding an arm around Lila’s waist. “Jazz, you get seltzer.”

“Gee, thanks. There’s a party. But I’ll have you know I can safely have a small amount of wine per day. My doctor said it’s fine.”

Lila reached for the door before Nick could. She was still able-bodied enough to manage her own doors. As long as she didn’t have to open them with her ass.

Good to know about the wine, though. Of course, she had no concern in that area.

Fifteen minutes later, the men had been ushered out and Lila’s parents had given them prime seating in the café. They were seated on big squishy chairs around a low table piled high with pastries.

Normally, she was good with her daily muffin. Sure, she could go for a piece of chocolate or maybe even the whole bar during PMS. Right now? She was ready to plow through the plate of eclairs like a Hoover missing a rug.

“So I’ve been writing new songs,” Jazz announced, bouncing in her chair like she’d already overdosed on sugar. “I can’t wait to show everyone at the first band meeting. I’ve been so crazy creative lately, it’s amazing.”

Thankful for something she could focus on rather than baked goods, Lila smiled at Jazz. “Really? That’s great. I know you’ve sometimes been reluctant in the past to share with the class.”

“The class can be dickheads,” Harper said drily, leaning forward to pluck an apple tart with cinnamon-accented whipped cream off the tray.

“Yeah, but they’re my dickheads now. None of them scare me. I’ve been writing more with Gray, and now that we’ve sold some songs, I feel more confident. The Grunge picked up one I wrote last month. A duet with them and Lindsey from Brooklyn Dawn. Luc is hopeful it will make it on The Grunge’s next EP.”

“A guy named Luc would be hopeful.” Harper laughed when Jazz poked her in the side. “Just saying. But that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, I’m excited. So I want to do more for Oblivion too, and Gray’s cool with it. Along with the stuff he’s done with Deacon and you, Margo, he’s been writing songs with Nick. They have a shit ton of stuff they’ve come up with. They’re not happy with a lot of it, of course. Nick especially. He’s a pain in the ass about that kind of thing.”

Margo frowned. “Nick and Gray? Writing together?”

“Oh yeah. Gray spends more time with Nick than anyone lately. Well, except Lila.” Jazz grabbed an apple dumpling and took a big bite. “Oh my God. So good.”

“What about Simon?”

“What about Simon?” Lila echoed. “He’s been modeling, hasn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but Nick always wrote with Simon and Deacon.”

“Right, but Simon’s been busy. So Nick worked with Gray.” Lila shrugged. “Can’t expect him to sit around all year and wait until Simon gets his act together.”

“Wait a second—” Margo began.

“No, you wait a second. I understand you’re in an awkward spot.”

“And you’re not?”

“No. I’m in a spot where I’m responsible for this band doing well. That is my number one concern, and that requires everyone to pull their weight. From where I’m sitting, everyone was doing that except Simon. He was the reason the band went on hiatus when they’d barely gotten started.” She held up a hand. “I understand he was hurt. I understand he was dealing with a lot. You shouldered more of his load than anyone. But we can’t offer help he doesn’t ask for, and he chose to turn away.” She shrugged and leaned toward the pastry tray.

Fuck it, she was having an eclair.

“You’re right, and I’m not excusing it. I’m just saying that I’m not the only one taking sides.”

“I’m not taking sides. I’m on one side only—the band’s. Simon’s issues harmed the band. Bottom line.”

Margo jerked to her feet. “Simon is the biggest reason that Oblivion rose as fast as they did.”

“Hey,” Jazz said. “I get you’re frustrated and upset, but don’t dump on the rest of us. We’re not his backup band. This isn’t the Jackson Five.”

“No, of course not. Oh God, I’m sorry.” Margo sat and braced her knees in her lap, covering her face with her hands. “I never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“You didn’t.” Harper patted her arm consolingly. “It’s just getting close to back-to-work day and everyone’s on edge. The boys are too. They just hide it with sniping.”

“Sure sounds like that’s what we were just doing too.” Shrugging, Jazz shifted on her chair, drawing her leg up underneath her. She had a remarkable ability to twist into a contortionist’s poses even during pregnancy. “Personally, I think we should put it all behind us. Start in January with a clean slate.”

“You’re right.” Margo nodded. “Just draw a line in the sand and move on.”

Lila tried to look up from her eclair. Hard when it was taking at least half of her focus. “I think that’s for the best.”

Silence reigned until Jazz started talking about some new natural baby food concoction they’d devised, prompting Harper to join in.

Lila stared at Margo, and Margo stared at Lila, both of them smiling faintly.

“I’m sorry,” Margo mouthed.

Lila nodded. “Me too.”

“So I’ve been telling Harper she should get her belly button pierced.”

Lila blinked and sucked a bit of chocolate off her thumb. “That’s some segue.”

“It’s hot, right? She’s got a tiny little tummy under there.” Jazz went to pull up Harper’s sweater, and she laughed and nudged her away. “No, for real. She does. No one ever sees it because she wears those aprons all the time.”

“Why do I need a pierced navel? I work all day, and I take care of a baby all night. I’m not parading around in skimpy clothes.”

Jazz winked. “That’s not all you do all night. Specifically last night. I heard the bed rocking in the next room, and it wasn’t because you had an itch.”

Harper flashed a grin. “Oh, I had an itch all right. Consider it scratched.”

“You should go for the piercing. I got one.” Margo ducked her head. “Make that two.”

“Oooh. Really?” Jazz lurched off her chair, her belly leading the way. “Nipples? Really? I thought of those, but mine are used too much.”

“Oh, mine are too. Trust me.”

“Not like that.” Jazz laughed. “I mean milk-wise. I can’t even think about that until we take a break. We’re waiting a few years in between this one and the next, so maybe then.” She rolled her eyes and flopped backwards into her chair. “Once I stop breastfeeding in like a lifetime.”

“No worry about that for me.” Margo peeled off a slice of apple and slipped it into her mouth. “I was a little nervous about getting them, but yeah, good idea.”

The sparkle in Margo’s eyes was intoxicating. She wanted a taste of that kind of sexual freedom. To just be like,
hey, I want to get my nipples pierced
. To not freak and worry and plan every part of her life, and watch those plans routinely get blown to smithereens.

“No worry about that for me either,” Lila announced, dusting off her hands. “So take me to your piercer, Margo. I want to try it too.”

“Wait. You?” Jazz’s lower lip brushed her chin. “Seriously?”

“I do wild things.”

“Of course you do. Can’t get much wilder than trying to harness Nicky.” Jazz grinned and exchanged a wink with Margo. “And trust us, you’ll be very happy with the after-benefits.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have pierced nipples.”