Rock Legend

by Tara Leigh

  The half hour I’d budgeted had stretched into a full hour, and didn’t appear to be wrapping up anytime soon.

  Normally I would be thrilled. Verity had the writer eating out of her hand. She was the perfect blend of industry ingénue and insubordinate misfit. I could picture the spread in the iconic magazine—pages and pages of Verity dressed up in haute couture, doing ordinary and unexpected things. Eating French fries out of the back of a pickup in lingerie, wading into the ocean wearing a ball gown, gathering a bouquet from a field of wildflowers wearing nothing at all.

  But I was meeting Harmony at my apartment in forty minutes because she’d agreed to look after Shania while I flew to New York with Verity and Travis to do the rounds of the major labels and hopefully ignite a bidding war for her next album. It was a stretch, given that she’d been publicly fired from her last one. But a commitment for a feature in Vanity Fair might tip the scales in our favor.

  A minute ticked by, then another.

  Finally, the writer reluctantly put his notepad away and slapped his knees with his palms. I jumped to my feet, ushering him out of the private room I’d reserved before returning to walk out with Verity.

  “So, do you think it’s going to happen?” she asked as we left the restaurant through a back door.

  I knew better than to promise what wasn’t mine to give, but it was obvious the story was as good as written. “My guess, I’ll have an e-mail confirmation before we land.”

  Verity broke into a dazzling smile. “This is really going to happen, isn’t it?”

  She was referring to more than just the interview. “Looks that way.”

  Verity Moore was going to achieve the nearly impossible: a successful transition from child star to A-list adult. It hadn’t been a smooth one, and until Travis had taken her on as a client, didn’t look like it would happen at all. In industry circles, I’d get some of the credit, too. It might not be long before I was a junior agent myself.

  I was looking forward to telling Travis about the Vanity Fair coup. He’d put a lot of faith in me, and after nearly risking everything for Landon, I wanted to knock this one out of the park, preferably before I told him about my pregnancy.

  Verity slid into a white Range Rover while I ran to my Mini, racing the clock home. I’d already packed, but I had at least two hours of work waiting for me at the office before our flight to New York.

  I was relieved not to see Harmony’s van in the parking lot yet, but that feeling evaporated when I realized my front door was slightly ajar. Had I forgotten to lock up when I left this morning?

  Before I shifted into full-on panic mode, Shania nosed open the door, her entire body wagging as she pushed herself against my legs. “Oh thank god,” I exhaled. We hadn’t been together long, but I would never forgive myself if Shania had been lost or hurt because of my carelessness.

  But how— I peered inside nervously. “Hello…”

  “Piper?” Adam whirled around, looking guilty.

  “Jesus. You scared the crap out of me,” I said, my hand over my still-racing heart. “What are you doing here?” I’d returned his key to my apartment, mostly so I wouldn’t have to get up off the couch to answer the door when he came over to check on me. But he’d never let himself in my apartment when I wasn’t there before.

  He held up his hands. “I’m just checking your calendar. Pretend I was never here.”

  Shania followed me as I walked inside, sniffing my legs for signs that I’d cheated on her with another animal. I patted her head, scratching behind her ears. “Why are you checking my calendar?”

  He shifted on his feet, then sighed. “Piper, you’re taking all the fun out of the surprise.”

  “Adam, I hate surprises.”

  “Well, you won’t hate this one. It will be very tasteful, I promise.”

  I groaned. “I don’t have time for this right now, just tell me—”

  “I can see I’m going to be the fun parent,” he said, pouting slightly. “Brian and I are planning a gender reveal party.”

  “Seriously, you’re still thinking about that? I did some research, and it’s not exactly a popular concept with the gay community, you know.”

  “You’re telling me how to be gay now?” Adam quirked a brow, his voice teasing. “C’mon Piper, boy or girl, it’s just an excuse to have a party with a fun theme. I promise, it will be a blast.”

  For who? I imagined an entire room full of people looking at me like the salesperson from Baby Bluebell and shuddered.

  Distracted, I didn’t notice that Adam had turned back around to peer at my desk with its neat stack of mail and the oversized calendar I kept meticulously updated with color-coded markers.

  My way of framing my life the way I wanted it to appear—in neat, attractively arranged pieces.

  Until I remembered, too late, what else was there.

  I took a step forward. “Let me—”

  My breath caught in my throat as he picked up the envelope that had just arrived yesterday. “Oh, looks like the results came in,” he said. An envelope I hadn’t the heart to open yet.

  That thin, innocuous envelope was a bomb, capable of destroying my entire life.

  A bomb Adam was about to detonate, using my Kate Spade letter opener. My mouth was dry, my heart racing. I licked at my lips, trying to force a sound out. But I was frozen, rendered mute.

  A couple of weeks ago, I had told Adam that my doctor encouraged all her patients, even low-risk healthy couples, to buy a simple, at-home test as a way to determine if further genetic counseling was necessary.

  A quick cheek swab, one from Adam, one from me, was all it required.

  Except I didn’t send those swabs to a facility that would evaluate our genetic compatibility.

  Adam unfolded the letter, his expression going slack as he scanned the page. “This is a paternity test.” His eyes latched onto mine. “You ordered a paternity test?”

  I found my voice, but it was weak and thready, more of a squeak. “I—I thought we should be absolutely sure. Just in case.”

  He looked back down at the letter, his hand visibly shaking. “This looks pretty sure to me. According to the lab, I am excluded as the father with 99.9999 percent certainty.”

  At my feet, Shania let out a keening whine, rubbing her face against my leg. I walked on shaking legs to my couch, feeling sick. Worse than any of the times I’d spent on my knees puking my guts out in the bathroom. Adam wasn’t my baby’s father. Which meant…

  “Who?” Adam said now, shaking the results at me. “Who is the father?”

  I bent over, putting my head between my legs and sucking in deep breaths. Adam’s voice sounded as if it were coming from another planet.

  I heard him swear, then stomp into my kitchen. A minute later he was pressing a glass of cold water into my hand. I took it, sipping gratefully. The liquid splashed over my tongue, soothing my dry throat. I selfishly hoped Adam would walk out, leave me alone, but he was still standing in front of me when I set the empty glass down on the cocktail table. “You told me we made a baby together, Piper. Were you lying to me this whole time?”

  “No, of course not. I thought—I thought it was yours.”

  “Really? Then why the paternity test?”

  I didn’t want to get into the whole condom and cucumber explanation. “Adam, please. I didn’t have any doubts until recently. The test was only a precaution.”

  “A precaution,” he scoffed. “Maybe you should have taken precautions with…” He threw up his hands. “Jesus Christ—was it Landon Cox?”

  I gave a shaky nod, rubbing at my chest. The name was an icepick stabbing me in the heart.

  Adam’s nostrils flared. “Great. That’s just great. You got knocked up by a fucking rock star. Good luck, I’m sure he’ll make a great father.”

  The letter fell to the floor as Adam strode to the door and yanked it open, only to be met with Landon’s upraised hand, as if he’d been about to knock.

  Landon’s entir
e body tensed, although it was Adam’s cackle that kept him from saying anything. “Look who it is, the baby daddy himself. I’m sure you’ll make a very happy family.”

  Landon

  Piper’s door was pulled open before I’d even knocked, and it took a few seconds for my brain to latch on to the words being thrown my way. I was too focused on the sight of Piper cowering on her sofa, her face tear-stained and terrified. Instinct had me reaching for the shoulders of the man in front of me, ready to smash his head into the sidewalk for whatever he’d done to my girl. But there was such devastation blazing from his eyes, I hesitated.

  And that was when his words slammed into my chest, exploding like a flash-bang grenade in my ears.

  Two of them even louder than the rest. Baby. Daddy.

  What. The. Fuck.

  As I stood there like a fool, Adam pushed past me. Shania came bounding over, but before I could lift a hand to touch her, she raced back to Piper and barked, staring at me impatiently.

  The dog’s orders were about the clearest thing I could focus on right now, so I stepped over the threshold and walked slowly across the room to stand in front of Piper.

  “What’s going on?”

  She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then her eyes slid away from me, to the piece of paper lying on the floor at my feet. I picked it up, reading it line by line before turning my attention to Piper again.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  She gave a weak nod.

  “How far along?”

  She took a long time to answer, and while I waited I thought back to the first time we got together. Three months ago.

  Finally Piper cleared her throat and spoke in a hushed, trembling voice. “Almost four months.”

  I gave a sigh of relief. “It’s not mine.”

  Piper stiffened. “Just how many men do you think I’ve slept with?”

  I scraped a hand over my face, feeling combative and apologetic all at once. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that we got together for the first time—”

  “I hate to break it to you, but a woman’s pregnancy is backdated to the first day of her last cycle, which usually adds about two weeks to the date of conception. So that means—”

  I blinked. “You’re pregnant…with my baby?”

  “Exactly.” She slumped, her earlier pique evaporating. “I’m sorry, I would never have wanted you to find out this way.”

  Suspicion slipped through my veins, blending uneasily with shock. This couldn’t be happening. I hung on to my composure by the thinnest of margins, trying to think, to rationalize.

  Women had been trying to trick me into fatherhood for years, but Piper was the last person in the world who would run that kind of scam. If she said she was pregnant, and I was the father, I believed her. Fuck.

  An ugly anger rose up in me as I backed toward the door. Not really at Piper. But at myself. And at fate—that dumb, vengeful bitch.

  When Jake entered the picture, I thought he was a replacement for me, the teenaged adopted kid my parents must not have wanted anymore. But he was such a gift, making everything better, brighter. I had a brother.

  Until I damn near killed him.

  No kid deserved to have me as their father.

  I should have had a vasectomy years ago, when that stalker chick had shredded the condoms in my nightstand drawer. “Please tell me you’re not honestly considering going through with this.”

  The hurt that streaked across Piper’s face—the hurt I’d put there—nearly split me in two. But it was gone in a moment, covered by a mask of icy reserve that was even more painful to witness. “I am.” She stood up and wiped at her eyes, the better to glare at me with. “But you’re not.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Look at me. How many pills have you taken today?”

  “They’re prescription,” I shot back.

  “Yeah—from the doctor who treated you at Cedars? No way anyone at that hospital would still be prescribing you painkillers all these months out. You do everything in excess, Landon. It’s who you are. It’s not enough that you’re a musician. No, you have to be a rock star. A legend. It’s not enough that you nurse a beer or two, enjoy an aged liquor. No, you drink any bottle in sight until you can’t function.”

  “I haven’t drank a goddamn thing since I woke up in the hospital.”

  “And yet your eyes are glassy, unfocused. You’re high right now, aren’t you?”

  “Jesus. I just had a couple of pills. You act like I’m—”

  “High.” She could have been announcing a verdict. And she was right. I was guilty as charged. I was the child of addicts. It was what I knew. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  I blinked slowly, trying to remember. “I offered to pick up Shania for Harmony.” Had jumped at the chance, actually.

  Piper nodded, reaching for her purse and the suitcase that was positioned at the end of the couch. Halfway across the room, she turned back, her features softening slightly. “I’m sorry you found out this way, Landon.”

  “Really? Because it doesn’t sound like you were planning to tell me at all. I came here last month, all but begging for another chance. You didn’t say a damn thing.”

  She shook her head slowly, wide eyes huge in her face. “Oh no, you don’t get to do this.”

  “This? I haven’t done a fucking thing—you’ve kept me in the dark.”

  “And why do you think that is? For all of the spotlights shined your way, you stay in the shadows. Landon Cox, life of the party, legend of the rock scene—for just long enough to make an impression, grab a drink and a girl. Girls.” She rolled her eyes. “You hide from everything, unless it’s on your terms. Hell, you straight up told me you don’t want to be a father. You think I’m going to put my kid in the same situation I ran from?”

  I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Each sentence was an arrow, hitting its intended target with painful accuracy. But Piper wasn’t through. “Your brother. Your adoptive parents. You left them behind, just like you did to me.” She took a breath and kept going. “No family, no real friends except your bandmates. How’s it working out for you?”

  “Don’t go there,” I warned.

  “Why? Because the truth hurts? Landon, you were a typical teen who wanted to hang out with his girlfriend. Something bad happened, but look at how you reacted. You took all the blame, every bit of it. And you isolated yourself from that day on.”

  I wasn’t doing that anymore, but instead of explaining all the changes I’d made recently, I went on the offensive. “You want to talk about family?” A bitter laugh gurgled up from my throat. “Look in the mirror, Piper. You’re not exactly a role model for healthy family dynamics.”

  “That’s my point! I spent eighteen years stifled by my father’s disappointment. He blamed my mother and hated me just for existing.”

  She stopped, breath heaving, tears spilling one by one down her cheeks. “Landon, you said you didn’t want kids. Said women have been trying to trap you into fatherhood for years. Well, I’m not. Besides being an asshole, you’re an addict—and I don’t see you trying to change either. This baby wasn’t planned, but I won’t ever let my child feel unwanted. My baby will not be resented or blamed or feel like a mistake. He or she deserves better than you’ll ever be capable of.”

  A baby.

  Not just Piper’s baby. My baby, too.

  Our baby.

  Two words was all it took for an abstract concept—an it—to become real. Our. Baby.

  I could afford to give Piper more money than she’d ever need. And she was giving me an out. Saying she didn’t want me. Didn’t need me.

  My eyes fell to her midsection, and I could detect just the slightest roundness there.

  A wrecking ball of longing struck me dead center in my chest, and I had to put a hand on the wall to stay upright.

  Pregnancies could be faked, lab results doctored. But Piper wasn’t faking the swell of her belly. Or the
test results I wasn’t meant to see.

  I was going to be a father, whether I was ready for it or not. Actually no. According to Piper, I was just the sperm donor. I would have to earn the right to be a father.

  Jesus.

  I needed distance. I needed to think. I needed another pill. Or a dozen.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Piper

  So…you just left him there, in your apartment?” Delaney’s voice was both incredulous and kind.

  I covered my face with my hands and nodded. “Yes.” The word was muffled but I had no doubt Delaney heard me just fine. I’d been curled up in a ball on her couch in New York for the past hour, and it had taken nearly that long to fill her in on everything that had happened.

  The image of Landon as he stood there while I hurled painful truths at him with virtually no filter, his expression a mix of shock and hurt and raw fury, would be forever seared into my consciousness. I wasn’t sure how I managed to drive myself to the airport. But somehow I did. I made small talk with Travis, Verity, and the crew during the flight, holding off my complete breakdown until I left them at the Soho Grand Hotel and took a cab to Delaney’s.

  Shane had bought a gorgeous downtown loft close to NYU that was designed to be a haven for celebrities looking to escape the limelight but still live in a city at the center of everything. Passing through three secure checkpoints before finally being escorted into the elevator and to their door, it felt like entering Fort Knox. Each layer stripped away another one of mine, and by the time Delaney enveloped me in a hug, I felt as vulnerable and exposed as a crab without its shell.

  I wanted to gush over every gorgeous detail and hear all about her life with Shane. I wanted to be the kind of supportive friend Delaney deserved…but right now I was a useless puddle of hormones and tears.

  She led me to an enormous sectional, then settled herself beside me, rubbing my back in a soothing motion. “God, Piper, that’s—”

  “Pathetic,” I interjected.

  “Stressful,” she countered.