RUINED - The Price of Play: Everhide Rockstar Romance Series Book 2

by Tania Joyce

  Kara stared at the door that led into the house. She’d never been around an autistic person before. But how bad could Jenny be? “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  She went to open the car door, but Hunter caught her arm. “Um . . . my parents don’t know you’re pregnant. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  The fear in his eyes snagged her heart. This weekend wasn’t going to be easy for either of them. “Okay. And remember, just because I’ve agreed to pretend to be your girlfriend, there’s no PDA whatsoever.”

  His eyes flashed with shards of ice. “There has to be some or my parents will get suspicious. The odd touch. No kissing. Deal?”

  She met his cold glare. Her teeth clenched. “Fine. Keep it to a minimum.”

  “Thank you. I hate lying to my parents, but I had to tell them we were dating, otherwise inviting you here would seem weird.” He tied his hair back into a man-bun. “And sorry about the sleeping arrangements. It’s only a three-bedroom house, so I’ll sleep on the floor in our room or on the sofa. All right?”

  Butterflies swarmed in her belly. With him in the same room as her, she’d be up all night watching him sleep—in turmoil over being pregnant with his child, being frustrated by her overactive hormones, and wanting to be anywhere but under the same roof as him.

  She forced herself to nod. She could do this. Meet his family. Convince him about the baby. Pretend to be his girlfriend. Easy, right?

  Hunter grabbed her carry-on case from the trunk. Taking a deep breath, she followed him into the house. Mouthwatering smells of roast beef wafted down the hall. A football game blared from somewhere deep within the home.

  Galloping footsteps charged toward them. Kara jolted up straight. Shielded behind Hunter, she couldn’t see what was happening. Seconds later, he was wrapped in a hug from his sister.

  “Hunter.” Jenny’s chubby hands patted his back. “What took you so long?”

  “Kara’s plane was delayed.” He kissed the top of her head.

  Jenny stepped back. Kara smiled at the charming young lady before her. She had rosy round cheeks, bobbed dark brown hair, and a full figure, and was a good half-foot shorter than Hunter. Her piercing blue eyes never left his face.

  “How was the drive to the airport?” Jenny swayed from side to side, not letting go of his forearms. “Did you take the I-294 or the I-94? It’s Friday, so the I-294 should’ve been good. Should have taken you thirty minutes. Right?”

  “Yep. I took the 294.” He ruffled her hair into a shaggy mop.

  Jenny giggled and slapped his hands away. She peered around his shoulders. “Are you my brother’s girlfriend? I didn’t invite you to my party.”

  “Oh.” Kara glanced at Hunter. Should she hug Jenny? Shake her hand? Or what? But of course, he gave her nothing. She took a steady breath and drew on her sweetest smile. “Hunter said it would be okay for me to come.”

  Jenny’s inquisitive eyes scanned Kara up and down, as if she was trying to work out whether she was friend or foe. Then a grin lit her face and she clapped her hands. “Okay. You can stay. Mom’s about to serve dinner.” Jenny pulled on Hunter’s arm for him to follow, but he tugged it free.

  “Just a sec,” he said.

  Hunter zoomed in to hover a few inches from Kara’s face. Unease swam in his eyes. “We’ll talk after dinner. I promise.”

  “Okay.” She whispered and removed her scarf but stopped when Hunter’s eyes drilled deeper into hers. “What?”

  He stuffed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Did you bring a turtleneck?”

  “No. Why?” She peered down, and then it clicked. She splayed her hand across her cleavage. “Shit, is this top too low for your parents? Or is it you who can’t keep your eyes off my chest?”

  “Both.”

  The mischievous glint in his eyes sent heat rushing to her cheeks. His gaze hardened her nipples. They ached for some action, like they had on their night together where he nearly made her orgasm from tantalizing them with his hands, his mouth, and his tongue. Just thinking about it made her core clench.

  “Fine,” she groaned. “I’ll keep my scarf on.” She wrapped it around her neck and tied it into a loose knot. “Better?”

  “No. But yes.” He nudged her arm. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  With tentative steps, she followed Hunter and Jenny down the hallway, past an office, a restroom, and out into the open living and kitchen area. It was huge. Modern country charm met chic urban living. His mom dashed around the kitchen, opening the white cabinets, laying plates out on the black granite countertop, and stirring pots on the stovetop. Jenny joined her dad on the floral sofa in front of the television. Kara glanced over the upright piano standing by the window. She wondered if she’d hear Hunter play during her stay. With the small Christmas tree covered in twinkling lights standing by the gas fireplace and flower arrangements adorning almost every surface, the room was filled with warmth and coziness, unlike her parents’ place, which resembled a don’t-touch-anything art gallery.

  His mom looked up. “Oh, Hunter. You’re back. I didn’t hear you drive in. Stupid football is always too loud.” Hunter’s mom, tall and slender with azure eyes and wavy brown hair like Hunter’s, wiped her hands on her apron and came around the kitchen island to greet her. “Hi, Kara. I’m Lillian. Have we met in New York?”

  “Nice to meet you. And no, we’ve never met.” Kara wiped her clammy palm on her jeans before she shook Lillian’s hand.

  “Have you been to Chicago before?” Lillian asked.

  “No. First time.” Kara fidgeted with the fringe on her scarf, sensing Hunter’s eyes on her. Was she doing okay at pretending?

  “I look forward to getting to know you. “Lillian smiled warmly. “You’re the first girl Hunter’s ever brought home. It’s very exciting.” Her eyes sparkled at Hunter.

  What? Hunter had never brought a girlfriend home? Kara rubbed her arm. Her skin prickled. She wasn’t his girlfriend either.

  Catching sight of a steaming pot, Lillian’s eyes widened. “Please excuse me.” She dashed over to stir the gravy. “Dinner’s ready. Is it okay to serve, or Kara, would you like a few minutes to settle in?”

  Kara’s belly grumbled, eager for food. It had been hours since she’d eaten. “No, I’m good.”

  Hunter placed his hand on the small of her back, and her pulse jumped. Warmth simmered on her skin beneath his touch as he guided her over to the living room. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Kara.”

  “What? Oh, yes. Righto.” Hunter’s dad, with the build of a football tackler, shuffling forward to the edge of the seat. He propped his hand on the arm of the sofa, groaned as if every muscle in his body ached, and stood. He ran his fingers through his thick graying hair and wiped them on his Rutgers football jersey.

  “Kar, this is my dad, Arthur.” Hunter gave a lackluster jerk of his thumb in his dad’s direction.

  “Call me Art.” He winked at her and thrust his huge bear-like hand out to shake. “You like football?”

  “Ahh . . . no.” She grimaced at the thought of having to watch a game. With her country club upbringing, her sports of choice were tennis and golf. They didn’t interest her either. “I like ice hockey and ballet. I don’t get to go to either anymore. Work is too busy.”

  “Don’t lie, Kar. You went to the ballet a few weeks ago in Philly.” Hunter smirked.

  He remembered?

  Hunter scratched his stubble. “You won’t ever get me to the ballet. Couldn’t think of anything more boring. Didn’t know you liked men in tights, Kar?”

  She plastered on a teasing smile and ran her hand up his hoodie-covered arm. “What’s not to like? They’re so fit, flexible, strong.” His muscles, toned, taut, and terrific, tensed beneath her touch. She squeezed his bicep and her heartbeat quickened. Hmm. On second thought, maybe she’d like pretending to be his girlfriend. “I’m not sure you compare.”

  He jerked his arm free. “You’ve never complained about my body
before.”

  Nope. No, she hadn’t. She pursed her lips to suppress her smile.

  Art chuckled and patted his belly. “I like you already, Kara. Hunter needs someone to keep his ego in check.” He stepped around her and headed into the kitchen. “Lillian, would you like help with the roast?”

  After taking their plates from the kitchen to the table, Kara sat next to Hunter across from Lillian and Jenny, with Art at the end. Kara’s head spun with the quantity of facts and figures Jenny kept blurting. If the conversation didn’t focus on football statistics and players, it centered around Hunter and his music.

  “Hunter, your latest single ‘Stay’ had over thirty-five million views on YouTube in the first four days. That’s the same as Taylor Swift’s ‘End Game.’” Jenny’s voice boomed with pride. “Your video for ‘Horizon’ is still your most popular with over two billion views. Aaaand you now have over twenty-seven million subscribers to your Vevo channel.”

  “Really?” Hunter tilted his head. “I thought ‘Escape’ was our top video.”

  “Nah-ah.” Jenny shook her head. “I think you should release ‘Better’ next. It’s my favorite song. Isn’t it, Dad?”

  “Unfortunately.” Art grunted over a mouth full of peas.

  Lillian took a sip of her wine. “What do you do for work, Kara?”

  “I’m a junior designer at Conrad’s Fashion House . . . I was in couture . . .” Kara hesitated when Jenny covered her ears with her hands and rocked back and forth, “but now I work on the ready-to-wear retail lines . . .” Kara glanced at Hunter who was staring at Jenny. What was going on? “We provide Everhide . . . with . . . evening . . . and casualwear.”

  “La la la la la. Hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm.” Jenny’s chants grew louder and louder.

  “Jenny, put your hands down, dear,” Lillian said calmly and placed her hand on Jenny’s arm.

  Jenny pointed a rigid finger at Kara’s face. “She talks too much. Make her stop. Make her stop.”

  Kara’s heart hammered against her ribs. She didn’t know if she should say something or not. Lillian’s eyes clouded with weariness, Art slouched, and Hunter’s neck flushed red. Had she talked too much? She didn’t think so. She’d been anxious about having dinner with Hunter and his family but hadn’t rattled off her tongue.

  Hunter slapped his hand on the table, making the cutlery jump. “Kara is our guest. Stop. Now.”

  Jenny huffed at Hunter and crossed her arms. “I don’t like your girlfriend. She talks too much. She’s not invited to my party anymore.”

  “Yes. She. Is.” Hunter snatched up his glass of JD. “Apologize now or there’s no present from me tomorrow.”

  Jenny gasped. Kara didn’t think it was possible for Jenny to pout any further, but her bottom lip puffed out like a plump pillow. “Sorry Kaaa-ra.”

  This was what Hunter wanted Kara to see. Jenny. Her behavior. Did he think it would change her mind? He was wrong. She fumbled with the napkin in her lap. “It’s okay, Jenny. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Jenny lowered her chin and stared at the table.

  Lillian sighed, holding her wine to her lips. “Jenny’s normally not like this. She’s very protective of Hunter. I think she’s jealous of you.”

  Jenny? Jealous? All Kara had to do was allow time for Jenny to get to know her, and Jenny would quickly realize that she was no threat.

  ***

  After Kara and Hunter finished cleaning up, Lillian excused herself, said good night, and dragged a reluctant and sulky Jenny upstairs to bed. Art shuffled off to the den downstairs to watch more football with a six-pack of beer, shutting the door behind him. Left on edge by Jenny’s outburst, Kara now had to deal with Hunter. Her nerves jittered like a jackrabbit. They were alone. Time to talk.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Hunter asked, pouring himself another JD on ice.

  “I’d love a glass of wine, but I’ll have to settle for a cup of tea.”

  He gave her a that’s-not-funny grunt and he filled the stove-top kettle with water.

  “Would your mom have anything herbal? I’d like to avoid caffeine.” The list of foods and drinks to avoid while pregnant boggled her mind. “I brought some if she doesn’t.”

  He opened and peered into a tin on the counter and drew out a satchel. “Mint tea okay?” She nodded. He waved toward the living room. “Want to go and sit by the fire? I’ll bring it over.”

  “Sure.”

  She sat on the sofa that was too soft for her liking and curled her feet beside her. She took off her scarf and placed it on the coffee table.

  Carrying the drinks and the bottle of JD under his arm, Hunter flicked the kitchen lights off with his elbow, shrouding the living room in a soft glow from the two lamps on corner tables and the golden blaze from the gas fire. “You warm enough?” He held out the cup of tea. “You want me to turn up the heat? Get you a blanket?”

  “No. I’m fine, thank you.” She took the cup from him and inhaled the steam’s sweet scent.

  He stepped past her, and she caught a fine view of his ass. Tight. Grabbable. Mmm. Her fingers twitched. He placed his drink onto the coffee table and sat beside her, shuffling around until he faced her.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” She smiled and blew into her tea to cool it. If only she could do the same to her body temperature.

  He pulled out his hair-tie and ruffled his fingers through his hair, sending soft waves down to the top of his shoulders. Kara ogled, gripping her cup tighter. More crazy thoughts. She’d love to thread her fingers through his hair. Comb her nails through the silky strands. Clench handfuls of it during wild, hot sex. Loads and loads of hot, hot sex. But that was what got her into trouble in the first place.

  Hunter grabbed his JD and took a gulp. He swallowed so hard she heard it. She sensed his unease; it matched the somersaulting knots in her stomach.

  “Can we talk now or are we likely to be interrupted?” Her voice came out soft, shaky.

  “No, we’re fine.” He twisted his glass in his hands. “Mom will be lost in some book, and Dad will have a few beers and fall asleep in front of the football. He usually goes to bed about one.”

  “Am I imposing on your time with your parents? You don’t get to see them very often.”

  “Nope. I wouldn’t have asked you here otherwise.”

  “You seem to get along with your mom. What about with your dad?” She rested her elbow on the back of the sofa and propped her head against her hand.

  Hunter smirked. “Not exactly. He’s not a fan of my career choice. He wanted me to be a pro footballer, not a fucking rock star. When I was a kid, he tried to teach me to play ball, but I was too uncoordinated. He begged me to try out for the high school team, but instead of going to training I snuck off to play music with Kyle and Gem.”

  “You rebel.” Sounded like herself. She’d done everything to learn her craft: art, graphics, and technical design.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t see it that way. I knew from about the age of six what I wanted to do. My parents were too preoccupied with Jenny most of the time to even care.”

  “But you’ve become so successful.”

  “They only see the late nights, the partying, drugs, and alcohol—the gossip, the women, the craze.” He swayed his glass at her. The soft light from the fire refracted on the cut crystal before he downed its contents. “They don’t see the hard work.”

  “Your parents sound like mine.” She traced a flower on the sofa’s printed fabric. “Mine were mortified when I wanted to go into fashion. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a trader on Wall Street, like my sister, Naomi. She’s their star favorite. But I couldn’t do it. He reluctantly let me go and got me into the best design college, hoping it was a passing fad. When he realized it wasn’t, we continued to clash.”

  A quiver rippled deep in her chest, and she dropped her gaze. Maybe coming to Chicago wasn’t a good idea. Because she didn’t know how to handle this. The more
time she spent with Hunter, talked to him on the phone, the more she realized all they had in common—they loved fashion and treasured their careers, and their family lives were not all sequins and sparkles. Was that why they got on each other’s nerves? They were too much alike?

  She cleared her throat. “My father knew Conrad’s family and got me my internship. I had my career, and I thought I’d found my man.” Old heartache threatened to escape as she stared at the faded photo from Hunter’s parents’ wedding on top of the piano. Lillian and Art gazed at each other, love in their eyes. Hunter’s mother’s long white dress was classic elegance. His father, handsome. I want that. Will I ever find someone to marry if I’m a single mom? “I thought Conrad and I would get married. Have a baby. Nothing has gone to plan.”

  Hunter puffed through his nose. “That’s the biggest understatement of the year. My plans involve Gem, Kyle, and music. Nothing else. We’re twenty-four years’ old. At our age it’s about our careers, making money, traveling, and partying, not having babies.”

  Kara placed her hand on her heart. “I like those things, but they don’t fulfill me like I know having a baby will.”

  He drained the last drop from his glass and refilled it. His hand shook so much he spilled some on to the table. “You’re supposed to have kids with someone you’re in a relationship with. With someone who wants kids. I’m not that guy. We’re not a couple. I’m certainly not marrying you. So before this goes any further, we need to put an end to this mistake.”

  The cold bluntness in his tone stabbed her heart. How could he hold no regard for the life growing inside her? Maybe she’d think differently if she had her health. She slid her cup onto the table and with all her inner strength, she steadied her breath. “I know your goal was to bring me here to meet Jenny and plead your case. But you’re wasting your time. I talked to my doctor. The risk of our baby being autistic is low. So, with or without you, I’ve decided to have it.”