Shouldn't Want You (Cataclysm Book 2)

by Jerica MacMillan

  Eli’s in the living room playing with his cars, milk and bits of cereal surrounding his mouth. Ava had bought his favorite cereal yesterday and I gave it to him this morning to hold him over till she woke up and we could all order a more filling breakfast. But he seems content enough. I grab a protein bar and watch Eli play while I eat it, shooting off a text to Blaire, then one to Marcus and Kendra.

  Once I’m done, I usher Eli into his room to get cleaned up and changed for the day. “C’mon, bud. We’re going to go run some errands while Ava sleeps, and then we’ll come back to take care of her. Sound good?”

  “Yes!” he shouts, jumping up and down.

  “Shhh, shh.” I put my finger to my lips. “Ava’s resting. We need to be quiet.”

  He giggles and puts his finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

  “That’s right. Now let’s get dressed, okay?”

  We head over to Marcus and Kendra’s room as soon as Eli’s dressed.

  Marcus answers on the first knock, closing the door behind me after I walk inside. “Ava’s sick?”

  “Yeah. Some kind of stomach thing.”

  He crosses his arms, looking me over. “We’re not canceling the show just because your nanny’s sick.”

  “I know that.” Dammit. That was on my list of things to ask. I don’t know whether to be more annoyed that he won’t let me do that or that he knows me well enough to answer before I could even bring it up. I guess that’s what happens when you live on top of each other for years. You know how the other person works.

  He just raises an eyebrow, as if to say Do you?

  I flip him off behind Eli’s back, and Marcus lets out a guffaw. “We don’t have a last minute sub for you either. You’ve gotta play the show. Ava’s just a little under the weather. She’s not dying.”

  The door to the bedroom opens, and Kendra steps out wrapped in one of the fluffy hotel robes, still toweling her hair. “I can help with Eli tonight if you need.”

  “Could you? That would be amazing.” A thread of relief weaves into the tapestry of worry and helplessness that I started when Ava sprinted to the toilet almost an hour ago. At least she won’t have to watch Eli while she feels like shit. And I know Kendra will take good care of them both.

  She smiles. “Of course. I’m happy to help out. I always planned on stepping in if Ava got sick. Eli and I will have tons of fun, won’t we, Eli?” She holds up a hand for a high five, and he slaps it as hard as he can.

  “What else do you need?” Marcus asks, redirecting my attention back to him.

  I shake my head. “Nothing, I guess. I already texted Blaire and asked her to go pick up medicine and supplies.”

  Marcus grimaces. “At least she won’t be trying to force her hangover cure down Ava’s throat.”

  We both shudder in unison. “Yeah, this isn’t a hangover. And I’m not sure Blaire would be that mean to Ava, even if it were.”

  With a chuckle, Marcus walks me back to the door. “Let us know if there’s anything else we can do. See you in a few hours.”

  I nod. “Thanks, man.”

  It’s not the answer I was hoping for, but at least it’s something.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ava

  I’ve spent the day lounging in bed after Danny found me trying to turn myself inside out in the bathroom this morning. He got me more saltines and ginger ale as well as Pepto, his face concerned, constantly brushing my hair back and kissing my forehead.

  With a soft knock, he comes back into the bedroom, and I push myself to sitting and put down my phone. “Hey,” he says, sinking down on the bed with me. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Alright. Not so queasy. The medicine and everything seem to have helped.”

  He nods, that concerned line still between his brows as he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I don’t like that you’re sick.”

  I pat his chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine in no time. But you should probably quit snuggling me quite so close. You don’t need to catch it.”

  His arms tighten around me in direct contradiction to what I just said, and I stifle a laugh. “I have to head to the arena soon.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Eli and I will just chill and watch movies or something.”

  “No. Kendra’s coming to watch him. You rest.”

  Rolling my eyes, I push away so I can look at his face. “I told you I’m feeling better.”

  His mouth is a firm line, and I can tell he’s not budging. Eli gets that same exact look when he’s being stubborn, though with him it’s usually about putting away his toys when it’s time to get ready for bed. “I’ve already talked to Kendra. She’ll be here in a few minutes. You get sick days.”

  “Doesn’t the employee usually get to determine when she needs to take said sick days?”

  He shakes his head. “Not when you’re my employee. You’re sick. You need to rest. Kendra can handle Eli. If you’re right and you’re feeling better tomorrow, then you can watch him for tomorrow’s show.”

  I press my lips together to keep from arguing with him. It’s useless. He’s already decided. So I settle for another eye roll. “Fine.”

  He pulls me down to his chest again. “You’ll feel better faster if you rest. So you taking the night off is best for everyone. I need you to be well.”

  “It’s hard to stay annoyed with you when you’re being so sweet.”

  That gets me a chuckle, and he relaxes under me, his hand stroking up and down my back. I am really tired, so even though I’ve been insisting I feel better, I’m obviously not completely over it. Danny’s hand, his warmth, the sound of his breathing all combine to relax me even more to the point that my eyes close, and I’m on the verge of falling asleep. But he moves, pulling out his phone, his muscles tightening under my cheek. He kisses the top of my head again and gives me a squeeze. “I gotta go. Kendra’s walking over from their room right now. And then it’s time for me to go do my show.”

  I push myself up to sitting and rub my face, giving him a little pout. “I was just getting super comfortable too. I was almost asleep.”

  His lips curve in a soft smile, and he gives a low, rumbly chuckle, pulling me close to kiss my forehead. “Don’t wait up for me. Get some rest. Eat some soup if your stomach can handle it.” His mouth opens, but he hesitates.

  The faint sound of a knock on the suite door reaches us, and Eli shouts, “Daddy!” followed by running footsteps.

  Danny looks at me again, his blue eyes warm. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Break a leg.”

  He gives me a smile over his shoulder, and then the door closes behind him. I sink back down into the bed, listening to him saying goodbye to Eli and talking to Kendra for a minute before he’s gone.

  Kendra’s voice carries through the closed door, and Eli’s little voice comes in response. Then my door opens, and she pokes her head in. “Hey.” She smiles at me. “Danny said you caught a stomach bug.”

  I make a face and nod. “Yeah. Started puking before breakfast.”

  “Aww, poor thing. That sucks. Be careful, though. If this lasts more than a day or two, someone’s going to start a rumor that you’re pregnant.”

  I laugh with her, but the queasy feeling suddenly returns with force. Oh God.

  I can’t be. Can I?

  But we’ve used condoms every time.

  Kendra says something that I don’t really catch, I nod and smile automatically, agreeing with whatever she says. But panic is flooding my veins as I try to remember when I had my last period.

  We’ve been traveling so much I haven’t really thought about it. I packed a new box of tampons before we left LA. But we’ve been on the road for almost two months and I’ve never opened them.

  “Oh shit,” I whisper while I scramble for my phone, pulling up the calendar to count the weeks since we left LA.

  On shaky legs I run to the bathroom, trying to turn myself inside out again.

 
What am I going to do?

  The next day I’m still feeling queasy. No real surprise if what I suspect is true. Danny takes Eli to a nearby park to let him burn off some energy and give me some time to rest. He still thinks I’m sick.

  I feel sick. But not because of a virus.

  No. My sickness is of a completely different variety, compounded by disgust at my own stupidity.

  Again.

  Waiting thirty minutes after Danny and Eli leave to make sure they’re long gone, I pull my hair into a messy bun and put on leggings and a sweatshirt, slipping on shoes before calling down for a car to take me to the drugstore I went to the other night. If anyone asks, I’m getting more medicine for my upset stomach.

  Another thirty minutes later, I’m walking back into the suite with a crinkly bag in the kangaroo pocket of my sweatshirt. Inside it is a pregnancy test, a bottle of multivitamins, and more Pepto to preserve my cover.

  I texted Danny a few minutes ago to check in. He confirmed that Eli’s having a blast and nowhere near ready to come back yet.

  The sense of deja vu as I unwrap the pregnancy test is strong. Only this time it’s in the bathroom of a fancy suite in a hotel far from home, even farther from my dorm back in Massachusetts where I’d taken my first pregnancy test.

  My hands are surprisingly steady as I pee on the stick, then put the cap back on, setting the timer on my phone to give it enough time to register.

  I don’t even need to wait the full five minutes. Before my eyes the second window shows a pink plus sign in a matter of seconds.

  Letting my breath out all at once, I close my eyes, put face in my hands, and sag in place on the closed toilet lid.

  I allow myself a minute to wallow, then I straighten my spine, wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tear up the box, and bury it all at the bottom of the bathroom trash can under a handful of wadded up tissues.

  It might end up being nothing. Last time I jumped the gun and told Grayson right away. Then I miscarried a few weeks later.

  This time I’ll wait. I’ll take my vitamins and do everything I can to take care of myself and make sure this baby sticks around.

  Then I’ll tell Danny and see what he says.

  I suck in a shuddery breath, hope and dread warring in my stomach, intensifying the queasy feeling of my morning sickness. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time I won’t lose the baby, and the father won’t be furious to find out I’m pregnant.

  But I’m pregnant with Danny’s second baby.

  I swallow down the gorge rising in my throat. Will he think I did this to try to get money out of him? Like Eli’s mom?

  All the more reason to wait until I’m sure. The doctors said there’s no reason to think I can’t carry a baby to term, but I know plenty of women who just had miscarriage after miscarriage. One of my aunts, for example. After four miscarriages, they ended up adopting.

  Maybe it’s genetic. Maybe I can’t have a baby either.

  Squeezing my eyes shut again, I shake my head. I don’t want that to be true. I’d rather have this baby and deal with the consequences, whatever they may be.

  At least this time I won’t have to worry about money for a while. My bank account has more money in it than I’ve ever had. Danny pays generously and I’ve hardly spent anything since I started working for him.

  Wiping the stray moisture trying to escape from my eyelids, I blink a few times and steel my resolve.

  Whatever happens, I’ll make it work. Even if it means leaving and never seeing Danny or Eli again, I know I can survive. It’ll hurt like hell, but I’ve done it before. I can do it again.

  When Danny and Eli return, I’m on the couch. Danny gives me a stern look before coming and kissing my forehead. “I hope since you’re out here that means you’re feeling better.”

  I give him my best smile, hoping it doesn’t look forced. “Yes. I think I’ll be back to normal tomorrow.” The lie burns in my mouth, but the reality is that I’m not sick. And this is my new normal for the time being.

  I’ll tell him. Eventually. When I know for sure.

  He accepts my answer without batting an eye, making me feel even worse for not telling him. He’s sweet and caring and nurturing, and watching him take care of Eli makes my heart hurt.

  But it also drives home that Danny is already a father. A good one. To a child from a woman he wasn’t even in a relationship with. He wanted his baby. Whatever happens between us, he’ll love this baby too.

  I just hope he won’t hate me in the end.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Danny

  Ava finally seems to be feeling better after spending most of the last few days in bed. The day before yesterday she hung out on the couch, saying she was still tired, but mostly better.

  Yesterday she insisted that she was fine to take care of Eli. Since we didn’t have a show, I didn’t contradict her. She seemed to have more energy. She’s still pale, but I didn’t hear her throwing up this morning or yesterday. So when she tells me that she and Kendra want to take Eli to a bouncy house place in town, I don’t object.

  “Marcus and I are getting together to work on set lists and a new song idea he has.”

  She gives me a wide grin and wraps her arms around my neck. “Blaire told me how much trouble you guys had writing on the road last time. I’m glad that doesn’t seem to be the case now.”

  I smooth my hands down her sides, my jeans getting tighter as she presses her body against mine. I haven’t been able to touch her like I want the last few days since she’s been sick. Lowering my voice, I whisper in her ear. “I’ll be done in time for Eli’s nap, though.” Dropping my hands to her ass, I press her against me, enjoying the way her lips part on a slight gasp and her eyes dilate in response.

  A sex-kitten smile curves her lips. “Oh yeah? I’ll make sure to turn on the white noise machine for him.”

  “Good plan.” I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her like I haven’t in several days, only stopping when Eli wraps his arms around our legs. Laughing, I break the kiss and scoop him up, holding him so he and Ava can exchange cheek kisses and hugs before holding him close for a hug of my own.

  “Wuv you, Daddy,” he says. “Wuv Ava.”

  Her face softens and her eyes look a little glossy as she reaches out and rubs his back. “Love you too, Eli,” she whispers.

  I meet her eyes over his head and smile. I can’t help it. I smile almost all the time now. This woman. This kid. Between the two of them, my life is complete. And I didn’t even know there was anything missing before.

  Kendra answers when I knock at the door of the suite she shares with Marcus. She has a weird expression on her face, like a forced calmness as she looks from me to Ava and Eli. “Hi, guys. Let me just grab my purse and we can head out.” She gives us a manufactured smile, and I wonder if that means she and Marcus had a fight.

  If so, our attempts at writing could be extra awesome, fueled by whatever frustration he’s carrying, or they could be a complete disaster where we accomplish nothing. His writing is very emotionally driven, and some of our best sessions have come when his emotions are running high. But it can easily go the other way until he gets himself under control again. Or gets resolution to what has him riled up.

  I guess we’ll see.

  I head inside, and Kendra gives me another tight smile as she slips past me to head out.

  When I get inside, Marcus is sitting at the breakfast table in their suite, his face grave as he sips coffee from a white mug. A paper—a tabloid type from the looks of it—is spread out in front of him.

  “Hey, man. Everything alright?”

  He sighs. Sets his coffee down. Stares at me for a long moment. Then turns the paper around and pushes it toward me.

  At first what I’m seeing makes no sense.

  A pregnancy test on a pile of tissues. A picture of Ava that looks like a driver’s license photo. A picture of me from some band promo shot. A grainy shot of Eli. The band on stage. Some o
ther guy wearing glasses with medium brown hair who looks about thirty.

  Words in large black letters scroll across the top of the page. But they don’t make sense.

  Marcus’s quiet voice cuts through the confusing inputs and thoughts pinging around my head. “Danny. Is Ava pregnant?”

  “No.” My denial is automatic as my thoughts coalesce. “We use condoms. I …” My eye catches on the picture of the positive pregnancy test, the pink plus sign circled in lurid red ink. And my brain flicks back to that first night in Vancouver when she’d been out with Blaire and Kendra and had a little more to drink than normal. We’d fallen asleep tangled in each other’s arms, and sometime in the night I’d grown hard against her and instinctively pressed between her thighs. She’d reached back and guided me inside her.

  I’d come inside her. Without a condom.

  I run my hand through my hair, gripping it and pulling until it stings. Staring at the paper, I try to use the pain to help me focus and make sense of everything

  I asked her the next morning if we were safe. She’d said yes …

  But here’s a picture of her next to a positive pregnancy test, and the caption under the picture penetrates my brain … positive test recovered from the hotel room Ms. Kenedy shares with Cataclysm guitarist Danny Samberg.

  I sink into the chair, starting at the beginning of the article.

  It’s awful.

  Calling her a gold digger. An opportunist. Saying she tried to trap another man with a pregnancy at her university in Massachusetts—that’s the picture of the other guy—saying she aborted it when he didn’t take the bait.

  And now she’s set her sights on someone richer. Higher profile.

  Me.

  I’m shaking my head as I read, an ugly tide of rage rising inside me.

  I’m furious. This article is a hatchet job, making the sweet, honest woman who’s been sharing my bed out to be the worst kind of woman. My hands shake, and I clench them in my lap, forcing myself not to put my fist through the glass table or shred the newspaper with my bare hands.