The Rockstar and the Pussycat (Dark Fire Book 1)

by Ivy M. Jones

  Copyright © 2015

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  Other Works By

  Dungeons

  In The Dark

  Rebel

  That Hot Summer Night In Meridian

  The Lady Jane, Unmasked

  The Night Lies

  Fixed

  The Rockstar and The Pussycat (Dark Fire, Book 1)

  To Kathryn,

  who I, honest-to-god, appreciate.

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Justin

  "I'm looking for Tyler Brown. Is he here?"

  The most amazingly beautiful girl in the whole world was standing at my door‒ asking for someone else.

  She was around my age, early twenties, I figured. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail that swung down behind her shoulders, so I couldn't tell how long it was, but the color was the most fascinating I'd ever seen. It was so blonde, it was nearly white. I think I once heard my mom refer to the color as platinum, but whatever.

  Her eyes were hazel- mostly gold though, which made her look almost... I had to think about before it came to me... She looked like a golden eyed cat. Her eyes even narrowed a little at the corners. The compulsion to reach out and stroke her, to see if I could make her purr, was almost overwhelming. I had to consciously lock my hand down at my side.

  "You're looking for Tyler?" I asked. I did not want her to be looking for him. I had some seriously bad news for her and I didn't want to be the one to deliver it.

  "Yeah. Is he here?" She was gripping the edge of her shirt in one hand and stretching the fabric out. Obviously something was stressing her out. I was about to make her day worse.

  "He's- uh... No. He's not." I wasn't sure what else to say.

  "Are you his roommate? Can you deliver a message for me?" She looked down at the floor and then back at me, piercing me with those gold eyes.

  "A message?" Yeah, I sounded like a fuckin' genius.

  "Well, I tried to call his cell phone, but it says the number isn't in operation. So I decided to come here instead. I know he probably gave me a phony number so he'd never have to see me again, but I really need to talk to him."

  "His phone has been shut off. And he wouldn't give you a phony number."

  "Oh. His phone is off? Wait- why wouldn't he give me a phony number?"

  I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. Imagine that... I opened my mouth and something less than pure gold came out. What do I say to fix this?

  "I just meant, you're- err... You're like the hottest chick I've ever seen. I want to give you my number." Okay, honesty is the best policy. Maybe I wouldn't scare her off.

  "Uhhh," she mumbled.

  Or maybe I would.

  "Look. I think you should probably come in. There's something you need to know about Tyler."

  Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the side.

  "He's not here? And you want me to come in anyway?" She licked her bottom lip before drawing it into her mouth and my pants got a whole lot tighter.

  "I'm not going to jump you. I just have to tell you something you're not going to like and I think it would be better if you weren't standing in the hallway."

  She ran a hand along the band of her cross-body bag, considering, before she took a tentative step forward. I moved aside and she passed by, looking around for the living room. She may have known Tyler, but he'd never brought her back to his place. Inwardly, I was slightly relieved.

  "How well do you know Tyler?" I asked, dropping down to the sectional, far enough away that she wouldn't feel freaked out.

  "We went out once," she answered. Hesitantly, she rested her ass on the very edge of the couch, as far away from me as she could get.

  "Just once?" Maybe it wasn't serious. Granted, what I was going to tell her might freak her out a little, but I was hoping to be the shoulder she could cry on.

  "A couple of months ago..." she let the sentence trail off. "Listen, I really need to talk to Tyler. Either tell me when to come back so I can do that, or give him the message to call me. But I need to talk to him. It's really important." She started to rise.

  "You need to sit down for this, pussycat." She raised an eyebrow at my nickname, but her features immediately fell.

  "Oh god. He's married, isn't he," she moaned. She buried her head in her hands and leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees to start crying.

  "No, he's not married, but there's something else..." I took a deep breath, then exhaled sharply.

  "Just spill it so I can tell him what I need to tell him and leave," she begged.

  "Tyler was in an accident," I started.

  "Oh god," she breathed.

  "He was drunk and he wrapped his car around a tree on his way home from a party."

  "He... Is he..."

  I swallowed hard, still not quite used to the words. "He uh- he died. I'm sorry."

  I watched her already-pale complexion turn even more pale. Then a sickly shade of green. I snagged an empty trash bin from the floor and had it in front of her just as she heaved.

  She didn't actually throw anything up, but she held the gallon-sized bin in place for a few minutes while I went into the kitchen to get her a glass of water and a washcloth.

  I handed her both and sat down on the couch, close enough to her that I could help if she asked.

  "He's dead?" She looked up at me, her mascara running down her face and blurred near her nose and mouth where she'd wiped the washcloth. The green pallor had only lessoned slightly and her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Oddly, she didn't look sad in the detached way that a person would when learning that a guy she dated once had died suddenly.

  She looked distraught... And hopeless?

  "Are you okay?" I asked, nodding to answer her question. My hand went out automatically to start stroking her back.

  She started to nod in return but stopped suddenly and laughed.

  "No. I am the exact opposite of okay. My parents have disowned me, I can barely work, and now I find out that Tyler's dead." She laughed again. "I'm so far from okay, I don't even remember what it looks like."

  "Is there something I can do to help?" I wasn't sure if there was anything I could do, but I would have felt like an ass if I didn't at least ask. Besides, even with dark streaks running down her cheeks and a greenish tint to her skin, she was still the most hypnotic woman I'd ever met.

  Her eyes closed and she tilted her head back before laughing again.

  "Sure. You wanna help? Okay. I need to get married. Now. Congrats, darling."

  "You were going to ask Tyler to marry you?" As much as I hate speaking ill of the dead, Tyler was not the sort of guy you thought of when the words lifetime commitment came out. Shit, the only way I figured Tyler would ever get married was if he knocked some chick up...

  "Shit. You're pregnant," I whispered.

  "You got it..." She laughed again.

  "You could get an abor-" I stopped, the words stuck in my throat when I saw the look of pure malice on her face. "Never mind."

  "Tyler and I fucked up. Or technically, someone at the condom company did. I'm not holding the baby responsible for th
at."

  I put my hands up in defense. "Got it."

  She handed me the washcloth and started to stand up.

  "What are you doing?" I really didn't want her to leave.

  "I'm going to go back to my apartment and stare longingly at the giant tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream sitting in my freezer."

  "You can't eat it?"

  "Nope. Morning sickness," she laughed ironically again, standing. "Though the term morning sickness is stupid. It should be called drop ten pounds in the first trimester sickness." She set the empty water glass on the coffee table and turned to go.

  "Why were you going to ask Tyler to marry you? He probably wouldn't have said yes, you know..."

  Her face fell and she rubbed at her eye, further smearing her makeup. "I had to ask. He had mentioned he lived here, so I knew where to look for him at least. But even if he said no, he needed to know I was claiming him as the father. "

  "And you're certain he is?" Her look would have burned holes through my face if she'd been able to. "Never mind. I just thought it might be easier if he wasn't," I pointed out.

  "Oh yeah. Don't think I didn't consider that. I mean, it would have been a hell of a lot easier if my baby's daddy was my ex-fiancé, or maybe someone I knew for more than a few hours..." She laughed and I heard her choke up at the end.

  "Wait. Sit down," I pointed at the couch. Her brow went up at the command and she fisted a hand to her hip. "Please?"

  She didn't have much else to do I guess, because she sat.

  "Explain the part about the ex-fiancé. Oh, and the part about not working and your parents disowning you."

  "Why are you so interested? You're just some guy in Tyler's old apartment listening to some stupid whore who got knocked up." She said it with a sarcastic tone, but underneath that was a layer of bitterness at being categorized that way.

  I was shocked at the observation, but managed to pull my jaw off the floor. "Someone called you a whore?"

  "My parents. Right before my father told me that it would be inappropriate for me and my bastard child to ever be seen at their home again."

  "Okay. So your parents are assholes who will never meet their grandchild. Is there anyone else you could ask for help?"

  "Yeah, well, the only other person who might have helped, can't. Because he died." Her sarcastic smile had faded completely and she choked back another sob.

  "The ex-fiancé?" I offered.

  "He's the reason I hooked up with a guy like Tyler to begin with. It was just supposed to be a fling." She must have heard me groan, because she glanced in my direction, then closed her eyes.

  "I'm not stupid," she said, rubbing her temples, "I knew Tyler wasn't a happily-ever-after kind of guy. He was just supposed to help me get over what happened with Paul."

  "Okay, so besides staring at a tub of ice cream, what are your plans?"

  "Well, I've taken all the sick leave I had saved up. My boss already told me I can't get any more time off even though I've been too sick to work. So, as of next Monday, I won't have a job." She slid her hand along the strap of her bag again. "So I guess I'll go find a refrigerator box of my very own and start looking for a nice alleyway to put it in." Her hand moved from the strap and rubbed down her still-flat abdomen.

  "And?"

  "And what? You don't like my refrigerator box idea?" Her lips twisted into another defeated smile.

  "What you really need is someone to take care of you while you're pregnant and can't work. And a daddy for your baby."

  "So, yeah. That would be perfect! Thanks so much for helping me figure that out. Now, besides being the guy who comes up with the great ideas, do you know someone looking for a pregnant damsel to save?"

  "Actually... Yeah."

  Andy

  Sitting on the edge of the couch was making my ass fall asleep and I shifted slightly, waiting for the sexy weirdo next to me to drop the punch-line.

  "And who would that be?" I raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. His dark hair was shaggy- sort of alternative, and the multiple leather bands up his right arm and the indiscernible tattoo up his left had me picturing him with a bass guitar tethered to his chest.

  "Me?" He phrased it like a question and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to start laughing.

  After a few heartbeats of silence, I realized he was serious.

  "You. You want to marry me? Why on god's green Earth would you want to do that?" My stomach was tightening up in knots again and I felt sick. There was still nothing in my stomach. Not that that had stopped me from retching before.

  "Because you need me. And believe it or not, I want to do it." He smiled at me and I saw straight white teeth and a smile that would have knocked me on my ass if I hadn't already been sitting. It crossed my mind that the man could probably make a girl orgasm just by smiling at her.

  "You want to do it... Now see, there's where I'm a little fuzzy. You don't even know me." I was studying his reactions and for a moment, I thought I saw anger, but it was gone as quick as it had appeared.

  "Actually, I know you're my cousin's baby mama. And I know my mom and auntie are gonna kick my ass if I don't take care of the family he left behind."

  "What the fuck?!? You're Tyler's cousin? I soooo can't marry you!" I definitely saw anger that time.

  "Why the hell not? It's not like you were married to him. Or that you even loved him. So why won't you let me take care of you?" I heard him growl. "Or is it me? You think someone like me-" he gestured to his shaggy hair, the leather arm bands and tattoo- "can't take care of you?"

  I gritted my teeth, trying not to yell. "Okay, first of all, you've got this sexy rocker thing going on, which is exactly the kind of guy I usually go for..." Whoops, probably shouldn't have said that. I went on quickly before his cocky smiling mouth could start forming cocky words. "And second, the reason I can't marry you is because that's sick... Like, keeping-it-all-in-the-family-sick." Not that keeping it in the family with Tyler's cousin seemed like it would be too disgusting. That man had the rock god thing going on in ways that made me forget how nauseous I felt all the time.

  "So, your only argument against me is the fact that Tyler and I share a grandma? Not a problem. Aunt Georgie and my dad are step-siblings. We're not related by blood. What else you got, pussycat?"

  "How about this, Mister Hero. I don't want a pity-marriage."

  "But you'd take a shotgun wedding?" He tilted his chin, as if daring me to agree.

  But the truth was, I'd been willing to beg Tyler to make it legit. My parents were being assholes about the whole thing, but I had convinced myself that bringing their new son-in-law home to meet them might bring them around. I so wanted to keep my parents from cutting their new grandchild from their lives.

  I was suddenly very tired. My life had been careening around like a rollercoaster and that didn't even include the pregnancy hormones. I cried all the time, couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and hadn't been able to relax since I decided to tell Tyler about his impending fatherhood.

  Rockstar must have felt bad for bringing up the whole shotgun wedding thing because I heard him cuss and slide closer to me. His hand came up to the small of my back and started rubbing soft circles into my spine.

  "I'll make you a deal. Why don't you think about it for awhile? I don't have any plans for the next week. You decide what you want to do and let me know. The offer still stands. But I have to tell Auntie Georgie that she's gonna be a grandma because she deserves to know. She just lost Tyler- This is like getting a piece of him back."

  I nodded my head. "I would never deny her that."

  He moved off into the kitchen and I heard him shuffle around followed by his voice, low and sexy, as he spoke.

  There was quiet, and then he was back, holding the phone out to me. "She wants to talk to you."

  I tentatively took the phone, noticing my hand shook a little as I did so.

  "H-Hello?"

  "Is it true? It's Tyler's baby? Please tell me..." The w
oman sounded like my mom, but sweeter somehow. Like she hadn't let the strife of the world suck her spirit away and leave her cold. But her voice was so sad, like I could be the one to break her if I gave her hope, only to pull it away.

  "I promise. The baby is his. I'll take a DNA test if you want me to, but it's his." There was silence on the other end of the line and for a moment I wondered if that had been the wrong answer.

  There was a noise, like the phone was being shuffled, and then a man's voice filled my ear.

  "I understand you're a little sick. What can we do to help?" His voice was strong and clear, and I imagined an older version of Tyler holding the phone on his end.

  "It's alright, Mr. Brown. Please don't feel like you have to deal with any of this." My cheeks were itchy from my salty tears drying on my face and I tried to itch without leaving red marks.

  I must have been on speakerphone on their end because the voice changed back to Mrs. Brown without warning. I could hear how she had to speak through her tears.

  "Please, let us help you. You have given us something we never thought we'd have‒ couldn't have dreamt of since the accident. You've given us a gift. We'd like to do whatever we can for you."

  Tears fell from my eyes, though I didn't make a sound. How I wished that my parents could have been even marginally happy for me, and here were these strangers ready to upturn their lives at the word of a stranger so that their grandchild would have a good life.

  "Well, I guess we could start by meeting. Would that be alright?" Wiping my cheek with the back of my hand, I realized I needed a tissue. Without asking, one appeared in front of my face. Rockstar stood, box in hand, offering me what I needed. Oh god, the metaphor.

  "Are you available this evening? Maybe Justin could bring you out to dinner at our house. It's only about an hour away." Mr. Brown's voice.

  "I can't eat much. I've been too sick," I warned them.

  "That's alright dear. We'll all eat crackers and ginger ale in solidarity, if it means getting to sit down with you." Mrs. Brown.

  "Wait. You said Justin would bring me?"