The Rockstar and the Pussycat (Dark Fire Book 1)

by Ivy M. Jones

  "S-sorry," Andy mumbled, picking up her fork and retrieving the food which had scattered along the table.

  "Maybe it would be easier just to have your little talk now. Clear the air," Aunt Georgie offered. Though she went right on with her dinner, I could tell she was holding her breath.

  "Did you two have some sort of fight?" Uncle Ed asked, pointing his fork back and forth between Andy and me.

  "No. We just disagree on a particularly important subject," I explained. Andy shot me a harsh look, which faded into panic as she quickly shifted her eyes to Tyler's parents. She was begging me not to do this in front of them, but I knew I had to be an asshole and get it out there.

  "She thinks she's somehow responsible for Tyler's death." There. It was out there. And Andy was glaring at me like she had before, like she could somehow burn holes through me with her eyes. I took it like a man, even when my chest started to ache. I was getting used to her evil death ray glare.

  "Andy? You know that's not true, sweetheart." My Aunt Georgie's demeanor had shifted so completely, I worried it would make Andy cry. Aunt Georgie had gone from meddling bystander to concerned family member in seconds.

  When a tear slid down pussycat's cheek, I wanted to beat my fist to my head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I really hadn't meant to make her cry. I just needed her to know that it wasn't her fault. Tyler had chosen to get behind the wheel. That was his fault- not hers.

  "You had to be an asshole about this, didn't you?" she whispered.

  "No one here is in the wrong, pussycat. That's what I've been trying to tell you."

  As hard as she was staring at me, I could tell she was oblivious to our audience.

  "You have no idea what happened that night," she practically hissed. "And it wasn't up to you to tell anyone else, either. This was my burden to bear and it was only going to be an issue until the baby was born anyway. After that, it wouldn't have made any difference..." Her voice faded out. Then came back to normal volume as she continued. "But you just had to bring this up. Here. You couldn't just let it be."

  I felt my mouth open and close without words until my brain engaged, having processed what she'd said. I finally spoke, dealing with the easiest explanation first.

  "I don't have any way of contacting you. I don't know your number, your address, or anything else. I came to Aunt Georgie's to find you. So if you don't like that I did this here, maybe you should have stuck around before, because this was the only other place it could happen."

  I saw her narrow her eyes, knowing I had a point, but unwilling to admit defeat. So I went on.

  "And you're right. Besides the brief explanation you gave me and the knowledge that you got pregnant, I have no idea what happened that night. I wanted you to tell me more, but again, you didn't stick around."

  This time, she opened her mouth as if to argue the point, most likely to say something about not wanting me to know the details, but I cut her off.

  "And before you get all tangled up in that one, maybe you better explain what you meant by it was your burden, and it wouldn't matter after the baby was born."

  I watched as Andy snapped her mouth shut, looking back and forth between Aunt Georgie and Uncle Ed, as if what I had said had reminded her that they were there.

  "Andrea?" Uncle Ed looked concerned. "You said you came to talk about your plans after the baby was born. We never really got to talking about much before Justin came in. Maybe now would be a good time to tell us your plans?"

  I saw Aunt Georgie swallow hard and I waited, my gaze finally coming back to rest on my pussycat.

  "I was going to go back to my life," she said quietly, looking down at her plate.

  "That seems like a perfectly fine plan, sweetheart," Aunt Georgie crooned.

  "After I gave the baby to you," she finished, looking up quickly at Aunt Georgie and Uncle Ed, then back down to her plate.

  There was silence for long enough that Uncle Ed cleared his throat to end the discomfort. "I'm honored, sweetheart. But why would you need to do that?"

  Andy took in a deep breath, still looking at her plate. When she finally looked up, it was to a point somewhere over my left shoulder.

  "Because," she struggled to get out. "That Friday night, Tyler and I mutually decided it was better that he not spend the night, so that neither of us came away with the wrong impression. He got into his car and left, and I didn't stop him. I didn't even think to stop him. And it got him killed. Which means that I'm complicit in his death. No baby should have a mother like that. But you two," her eyes finally moved, flicking back and forth between Tyler's parents. "You're good people. And even though I took your son from you, I can give you his child."

  She began to sob silently while she spoke.

  "It's not a fair trade, and I don't believe for a minute that this wipes the slate in terms of what I've done. But it's the right thing to do, and I'm not selfish enough to keep a baby who deserves better."

  Andy bowed her head and collapsed her head down into her folded arms.

  "Well," Uncle Ed cleared his throat again, paused, and continued. "That settles that. We won't be taking your baby, Andrea."

  "What? Edward?" Aunt Georgie looked forlorn and lost. "Did you hear her? She thinks she has to do this to pay us back or something."

  "I loved Tyler. I always will," she continued. "But this was his mistake. Not hers. Ignoring the baby issue for right now, we have to convince Andrea this wasn't her fault."

  "Easily done," Uncle Ed nearly smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Because she wasn't with him the night he died." I watched as pussycat's eyes snapped up to focus on Ed. "Humor me here, Andy..." he continued.

  Confused, Andrea stared at my uncle, tilting her head a degree to the side.

  "Andrea, you said that Friday night. But Tyler died on Saturday. What time did Tyler leave your place?"

  Further confused, I watched Pussycat try to recall the exact time. "I don't know... Maybe around three in the morning?"

  There was relief on Uncle Ed's face, though the sadness of having to deal with the details of Tyler's death was obviously taking its toll.

  "Tyler died Saturday night, sometime around eleven thirty. You probably made the right call- When he left your place, he was probably sober enough to drive home. But he must have started drinking again sometime later that day."

  "Why was he less than three blocks from my apartment?" Andy looked lost and I fought the urge to go to her, to put my arms around her and hold her. To smell that fresh citrusy smell that was hers alone. To feel that ponytail slide through my hands like silk.

  "Maybe he'd had a change of heart? Maybe he wanted to see you again? Only Tyler could answer that." Uncle Ed shook his head, clearly sad that he couldn't give her a better explanation.

  Aunt Georgie moved her hand and placed it gently over Andy's. "I choose to believe that he saw you for the amazing woman you are and decided not to let you get away. I choose to believe he was going back. And I choose to believe that you made the right call- that he was sober enough to drive home. I don't doubt you would have taken his keys otherwise."

  Pussycat started bawling, loudly this time, her whole body shaking as she rested her head in her hands. I didn't even bother to hold myself back, my body moved without conscious thought until was sitting in an empty chair beside her, pulling her into my arms and holding her tight. Her head was tucked under my chin, her sweet scent drifting up to me, thrilling me, even while she sobbed loud ugly sobs into my shirt.

  "I'm here for you, pussycat. I always will be," I said. And I meant it.

  Justin

  Aunt Georgie ended up loaning Andy a thick, soft sweater to borrow since her shirt was soaked in tears. Uncle Ed brewed a pot of decaf coffee, then fixed her a cup exactly the way she liked it. And I just held her, gently stroking my hand up and down her back.

  We sat in the living room, dinner cut short by everything that had happened. Aunt Georgie had cleaned up most of it, filling plastic tubs with leftovers for pussy
cat again and popping them in the fridge until we were ready to leave.

  I offered to drive her home, which was fortuitous since she'd gotten a ride from Ed to get there. Maybe not so fortuitous... Andy hadn't said anything, but it was obvious that Aunt Georgie had been expecting me to show. Perhaps Aunt Georgie's offer to have Ed pick her up "after running errands in the city" was just a little too obvious once I showed up?

  I think she was just too tired to care, choosing to simply smile in relief that the horrible guilt she'd been living with had been completely unfounded.

  For now, we relaxed, conversation ebbing and flowing easily.

  "I'm curious, Andrea. Do you have any interest in learning the sex of the baby?" Aunt Georgie took a sip of her own coffee, holding it close in her palms to take in the warmth. The weather had turned cold in the last day and we could all hear the wind whipping a bit through the trees.

  While the house was warm, both in temperature and temperament, the thought of that wind was enough to make us all latch on to the heat sources around us. Pussycat was curled up under my arm, tucked up against my chest... Warm.

  I listened to the conversation as Andy and Aunt Georgie went back and forth on the pros and cons of learning the sex of the baby before the birth. Pussycat stayed curled into me as they talked and my ego pretended that if she'd actually been a cat, she'd have been purring with contentment. In reality, I knew she'd just been through a horrible emotional upheaval and contentment was probably not the word to express her state of being.

  I shifted, bringing her closer, preferring the egotist in me to the realist. I truly just wanted her to be happy. She was so perfect- how could I not want her to be happy?

  She was giving and forgiving. She was honest and forthright, to Griff's great amusement. She valued the life of her innocent baby, refusing to terminate the pregnancy. She was sweet and understanding. Admittedly, she really had a hard time allowing others to lend a hand, but who could blame her? Her own parents had bailed on her. She didn't know what it was to lean on someone and have them happily hold her up in her time of need. With that kind of experience, why would she bother asking anyone else for help?

  She had a stellar sense of humor, and I loved her laugh. I wanted to be the one to make her smile and laugh just so I could be around it.

  She was so different from the girl who had knocked on Tyler's door a week earlier.

  First, she wasn't sick all the time. Had actually put on a little weight on her chest and hips, and it looked good. Healthy. I was actually looking forward to watching her belly bump grow. I’d heard that pregnant women got a lot larger through the chest, too. I made a mental note to look for that. Not that they weren't damn perfect now... She'd look good no matter what happened to her shape.

  And the second, and most major, difference? She was so much more alive. She smiled and laughed. Her future wasn't a loveless marriage with a man she didn't know, just so she could get back into the good graces of her asshole parents. Just the thought of what could have happened sent shivers down my spine.

  I honestly had to admit, I didn't know if Tyler would have done the right thing, so to speak. Would he have married her? I knew he would have provided child support. But would he have sacrificed his future for her?

  Sacrifice didn't seem like the right word to me. Honor, maybe. Or fucking spectacular jackpot.

  Who wouldn't want to be around pussycat all the time? I'd been without her company for a week, and the guys were starting to treat me like they had when Tyler had died. I was lost and I'd only known her for a day. A fucking day.

  Tomorrow, I wanted her with me. And every day after that. Screw work. Or better yet...

  "Hey pussycat. You like our music, right?"

  I heard her chuckle. "Are you fishing for compliments, rockstar?"

  "Always, but that's not why I'm asking. I was just thinking how I'd like you to come to our show Saturday night."

  Andy sat up, balancing her coffee so that she could see my face. "I can't be traveling right now. I still have work on Monday." She looked serious about work, but I could see a hint of disappointment that she'd be missing a free pass to a Dark Fire show.

  "Okay, so," I explained quickly, "The reason the guys showed up last Saturday was so that we could go over the details of our upcoming tour. And here's the best part- It's in New York City."

  "The whole tour? I don't understand," she said, scrunching her eyebrows.

  "We got our start in the city and we'd been planning a sort of 'Thank You' for awhile. We're doing about a dozen gigs at places throughout New York City. There's no advanced warning that we're coming, so no tickets. Our manager helped us set it all up. We're calling it the "I Heart NYC" tour.

  "The first one is tomorrow at The Tap. Nicki is going. I can have her save a seat for you, too. And you can still be at work on Monday."

  Setting her coffee down on the little side table, Andy took me by surprise, grabbing my face with her hands and pulling my lips to hers. The kiss only lasted a second, but when she finally let me go, we were both panting, exhilarated.

  "I'd love to," she said, smiling that gorgeous smile I was so crazy about.

  "Should we be alone when I ask you to go on the European tour with me?" I whispered. Her cheeks flamed bright for a second and she elbowed me playfully in the side. Then she smirked devilishly, biting her lower lip, and nodded.

  Andy

  The Tap was crowded and loud by the time the DJ cut out the music to announce that the live entertainment would be on soon.

  "And a great big surprise for all you Big Applers, tonight. I think you'll all be pleased with our special guest performers, here all the way from right next door. I give you- Dark Fire!"

  The DJ booth went dark and the lights went on over the stage. The people on the dance floor screamed and jumped around, waving at the stage, now illuminated to their right. Then Griffin came onstage, twirling his drumsticks and the crowd exploded. Griffin was followed by Justin. I ignored everything else after that. Justin looked good enough to eat. His shaggy black hair fell in chunks over his forehead and into his eyes. He had on tight black jeans and a white cotton button down, loosely tucked in. The shirt was long-sleeved, but he'd rolled the sleeves up, showing off some of his tattoos. Around his waist was a silver-mirrored belt with a buckle in the shape of Mario from Super Mario Brothers. On one wrist was a chunky watch with a wide leather cuff and on the other was a band holding his guitar pick.

  He bounced over to the mic stand, pulled the mic free and spun it a couple of times, then his voice echoed through the speakers.

  "Thank you New York City!"

  It sounded like the whole city answered him and he smiled a huge megawatt smile in return, tilting his head back at the chaotic sound. A group of women managed to raise their voices above the din, hollering we love you!

  He replaced the mic in the stand and in a low throaty voice, he murmured directly into the mic, "We love you, too."

  Okay, body of mine. If there was ever a time to swoon, now would be it. My eyes, however, remained firmly open and fixed on my rockstar, standing on the stage like he owned it- because he did. At that point, I totally understood the term "eye candy".

  And I was on a sugar high.

  Nicki saw my mouth hanging open as I stared at her cousin and her hand casually came up to push it closed.

  "Thanks," I murmured, checking for drool.

  "No problem. You're not the first. And you're certainly not the only one in here like that," she laughed.

  Voices rang out over the noise. Pleas for Justin to be the father of someone's children and calls of marry me!

  I felt a pang in my chest at the reminder. Justin was a sexy rock god. Not just to me, but to thousands and thousands of women. I was just a drop in the bucket.

  As if sensing my melancholy, Justin looked directly at me, his eyes full of promise. As if he truly didn't notice anyone but me.

  I was losing it. Stupid pregnancy hormones. I'd been wearing a bean
ie over my hair to keep it from blowing around outside in the cold October night breeze. But I was suddenly too hot, pulling it off my head and flipping it to the table alongside my coat which I'd had to remove earlier when the room started to fill with bodies.

  " So, what do you say we get started? What to play, what to play... Oh, decisions, decisions," he taunted, walking over to where his bass sat propped next to Zach's keyboard.

  That must have been the cue for Decisions at Dawn because Griffin launched in, followed quickly by Justin, Cy, and then Zach. It wasn't my favorite song of theirs, but there weren't any I didn't like. The crowd had pinned us into our seats, not leaving us any space to back up our chairs, so I did what I could to sway to the music, screaming along in the chorus with everyone else during the second song, and shouting out, trying to get my favorite song played when Justin asked for requests.

  I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself when the first request was Lourdes Gets Me There.

  Nicki gave me an odd look at my hysterical laughter and I explained that Justin told me about his car, Lourdes. I explained how I now had this image in my head of Justin taking his SUV on a date, while all the other fangirls pouted and cried.

  Nicki laughed and nodded. During the line about a whole lot going on in the back, I turned to Nicki.

  "Yup, every member of the band cramming their gear in there has to be uncomfortable."

  I watched as Nicki laughed so hard, she had to delicately wipe tears away so she didn't smear her eye makeup.

  Nicki had finished her beer and I was most of the way through my sprite when Zach stepped forward to sing the requested The Night of Dreams. I wanted to blame it on hormones, but that song always made me cry and I wondered if Zach had some other trauma in his life, besides his parents' divorce, that fed his music. I knew he'd written that song, but it just felt so sad, as though the outcome wasn't what it should have been.

  As the song ended, there was a quick flash of lights for last call. Since it blinded nearly everyone in the room, I figured it was probably an accident that they had been left to go off automatically. I was about to say something along those lines to Nicki when a single voice broke cut through the near-silence.