Sticks (Black Addiction #2) (4 page)

BOOK: Sticks (Black Addiction #2)
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“Kenz, you really need to help me out here.” He shook his head, his hands shoved into his pockets. “The last thing I want to do is piss you off, but I have no idea what you want me to do.”

“Joey, I’m having this baby and I know it’s taken us both by surprise but I’m not asking you for anything.”

At no point did I think that carrying Baby Shaw was going to be an opportunity to further my financial development. There would be no shake down, no asking him to put me up in a nice apartment on the Upper West Side. Fuck that. No way. My uterus and I were not going to be holding this guy ransom despite his increased cash flow. And if his album got even half the anticipated sales the industry heavyweights were predicting, green would be his new favorite color.

But I also wasn’t going to be one of those girls who ignored the fact it took two of us to get me in this situation. Freezing him out and then have him find out when his kid turned sixteen and asked questions was not the kind of mother I wanted to be.

“I couldn’t
not
tell you. You deserved to know.” My voice was quieter than I’d intended, those ugly emotions rearing their head.

“But . . . It’s my baby too, right?” His head nodded as if to confirm the fact. “I don’t want him or her growing up without me. I need to be there too. I need to be a part of my kid’s life.”

There were times in life that shocked the hell out of me.

The positive sign on the pregnancy stick was one, and now this,
this
was another.

I was half prepared for him to give me a pat on the back, tell me good luck and have a nice day. Thanks but no thanks, but I’m not geared to be a father. Perhaps even throw some money at me and ask me to sign some NDA in case it hurt his precious image. Of course the latter option would have induced a punch right in the kidney, so I’m glad he didn’t go that route.

But him wanting to be involved? Like be an actual part of it?

Maybe I was the one who was concussed.

Does pregnancy induce psychosis? God, I hope not.

“I would never stop that,” I said a little too quickly. “If you want to, you should be involved.” Before my mouth followed up with. “But we don’t have to be together for that to happen.”

“So we raise our kid and not be
together
?” Joey eyes narrowed as he tested the waters, not convinced he wasn’t going to have to shack up with me, aka baby momma.

“Sure, who says we can’t? Lots of people do it.”

Where was the rule that said we couldn’t? And if he was climbing on board the crazy train with me, then I sure as hell wasn’t telling him no. The way I saw it was if this kid had two parents who loved and supported it then why did those two people have to be together? Fuck the establishment. We would do it our way. Conventions could kiss my ass.

“I don’t know.” Joey shot me a weary sideways glance. Obviously needing more convincing. Or perhaps wondering if this was an elaborate test, I’ll admit even I was surprised at how calm I’d become.

“Okay, let me put it to you this way.” I shifted on my feet, realizing I hadn’t even asked him to sit down. Hell, no point now. Besides I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t going to get down on one knee again, so standing was definitely preferred.

“We like each other, and other than wanting to rip your balls off when I found out, I haven’t had any other murderous thoughts toward you.” Which was a plus. Some of Joey’s ex girlfriends didn’t share the same understanding I had; he wasn’t a great boyfriend and add to the fact he seemed to attract psychos . . . yeah, you do the math.

“Some parents end up hating each other. Plotting each other’s demise. And let’s face it, you’re too pretty for jail.”

“You seriously wanted to rip off my balls? I thought you were kidding.” His eyes got wide as he completely disregarded more than half of what I had said. Typical, mention of sexual organs and I’d lost him. It wasn’t an accident I was wearing the least-sexual outfit I owned.

“Your dick too, but that’s ’cause I was in shock.” I couldn’t help but throw in. Might as well come entirely clean. It would have made a nice conversation piece on my mantle.

“Jesus. How does that make it better?” Joey took the seat I hadn’t offered him and sat down on my couch. His eyes not leaving mine as he ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s better because we’re being honest. We won’t disappoint each other trying to be something we aren’t. And it will be easier for us not to be forced together for the baby’s sake, only to end up hating each other.” I slid onto the seat beside him, my hand unconsciously moving to his thigh.

It was surprisingly effortless to be around him. I saw through his ego crap and appreciated him for the fun guy he was underneath. There was captivating charm about him, and despite being incredibly cocky, he was surprisingly honest. What you saw was what you got, unfiltered. And those eyes and smile made you feel like you were the only woman in the room. Probably the reason why we’d ended up naked the last time. That and he made my insides tingle. Joey with his shirt off was pretty damn amazing.
Mmmmm, sexy didn’t even come close.

I shook my head trying to forget all about Joey naked and how good it had been. “And there is no way in hell I’m having a shotgun wedding.”

The whole white dress and walking down the aisle was a whole other argument, as in probably would never happen—ever. In fact, the institution itself was on shaky ground. Not sure I’d ever want to be with one guy my whole life. He’d have to be pretty damn spectacular and I’d yet to find one who wasn’t intimidated by my lifestyle. Besides, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been in love, so being forced into it wasn’t happening.

“Well, that kinda makes sense.” Joey agreed, hopefully shelving all talks of engagements and happily-ever-afters. “As long as ripping my balls off is no longer on the table.” A slow smile crept across his lips, some of the panic evaporating as he eased back into the couch.

“Not at the moment,” I smiled, the tension in my body slowly easing. “But I’m moody so I could go either way.”

Finding out I was
going to be a father was like a kick to the nuts. Like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs and the windbags had suddenly forgotten their purpose.

I’d been careful
most
of the time; able to count on one hand the number of times I’d gone bare with a girl. Not that it mattered now. All the being
careful
in the world wasn’t going to un-knock up Kenzie.

There was a baby in her.

Mine.

“Do we need to get you to a doctor? I know when Angie was pregnant they made her take vitamins. We should get those.” My mind kicked into gear as I tried to man-up. Or at least be fucking helpful. Right now I wasn’t doing much other than taking up room on her couch. The whole shocked vibe was still my main mood. It was probably going to be awhile, so I wasn’t going to be too hard on myself. After all, it’s not every day you find out you made a person.

“I have an appointment with my OB/GYN on Monday morning. I guess I’ll find everything out then.” She crossed her legs as she leaned back into the couch, her blonde hair getting tossed off her shoulders.

“I should go with you.” It came out of my mouth without thinking.

“You don’t have to.”

There weren’t many women in the world who’d have thrown out that line.
You don’t have to
. In fact, I’d beg to differ that almost any other chick would be holding a knife to my balls telling me exactly the kind of
have to
I needed to be doing. Heading to an appointment probably the least of it.

“I want to.” I sucked in a breath and I repeated myself like a loser. “I want to go.”

“We can ask about a paternity test while we’re there.” She did this weird thing to her hair and twisted it into a bun, the hand action almost distracting me as much as the words did.

Paternity test? As in there was a possibility the kid wasn’t mine?

It had been a stressful few hours. The album launch, being told I was going to be a dad—shit, I was still marveling that my brain hadn’t exploded. Patting myself on the back was not out of the question, and at the risk of getting another slap to the face—I needed to ask.

“Do you mean you’re not sure I’m the father?”

I waited for the hand to come flying toward my cheek. My balls also retreated a few inches as well in case the aggression was redirected. You could never tell these days and she’d already threatened worse.

“Yes,
I’m
sure.” She rolled her eyes but gave me nothing more than a backhand across my bicep. The half-hearted hit barely leaving a mark. “The last person I had sex with was with you, so unless I’m walking around with the second coming of Jesus, this baby is yours.”

Kenzie wasn’t the Virgin Mary or any virgin for that matter, but she wasn’t a whore either. Like me, she enjoyed sex, and was really fucking good at it. The difference was she didn’t have a different dude every night. Obviously I mean girls in my case, but you get the drift. And looking like she did, it was totally
not
because of lack of opportunity. Hell, I remember what
I
had to do to get her in the sack, screwing around wasn’t her style.

“So why do we need the test?”

She leaned forward, her eyes going wide as her mouth dropped open like I’d asked her to blow me, or something. “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried I could be taking you for a ride?”

“Well, no.” I laughed, the thought not even crossing my mind. “It’s you. You wouldn’t do that.”

“Joey, do you understand that you guys are sort of famous?” She spoke slowly, confused why the thought hadn’t occurred to me. “And with the new album you’re probably going to be even
more
famous. People are probably going to take advantage of that.”

“What? Pretend they’re having my kid? Seems like a lot of effort. I remember who I’ve had sex with.”

The extra attention we got these days sure was nice. Most of the time I didn’t even have to try and get girls, they just kind of found their way onto my lap. It’s like my cock had become a pussy magnet, and I can’t say I was disappointed. We had definitely made some waves in the industry and getting recognized was really kind of cool, but we weren’t tossing Benjamins around or crusin’ in Bentley’s just yet. No point in anyone trying to shake me down. I didn’t even own a house. So unless you wanted a share in my DW drum endorsement or to pink slip my new truck, there was little reason for anyone to come after me. Other than my dick of course, but that was the burden I was just going to have to bear.

“Please, do everyone a favor and not be so trusting, okay?” Kenzie rubbed my arm, her concern sort of touching. “We’ll get the test and you can give the paperwork to your lawyers. It will make this whole process easier.”

“Whoa. Lawyers? What for?”

First tests, then lawyers. This shit had gone from zero to a hundred in like a second. Shit needed to slow the hell down. The last thing I wanted was to turn this over to anyone else. This was between Kenzie and me.

“They are going to want proof. Trust me.” She continued with her line of conversation, obviously dealing with shit a lot better than I was.

“Fuck the lawyers. If you say it’s mine, it’s mine. I know you.” Not sure why we were still discussing this. We’d already established that Kenzie wasn’t the kind of girl to fuck me over, and I’d already said I believed it was my kid. I didn’t give a fuck whatever anyone had to say about it.

“God, I hope this child doesn’t have your blind faith. That kind of talk is how people wake up in an ice bath with no recollection of why they are missing half their internal organs. News flash, Joey. Not everyone is a good guy.” The look Kenzie gave me hovered between disbelief and confusion with a little frustration thrown in.

“Fine, we’ll do whatever you want but no more talking of ice baths and missing organs.” And especially not violence directed at me. “Just to be sure, I think we need to hide the knives for a while.”

“You don’t need to hide my knives, but you should probably leave.” She tried unsuccessfully to kill a yawn, her tired eyes also clueing me in that it was way past her bedtime. “I get really tired these days.”

While she wasn’t wearing the sexy threads I was used to seeing her in— and my brain had been fried with information overload—there was no denying that the girl in front of me was still knockout beautiful. That and the fact she had
my
-bun-in-
her
-oven meant leaving didn’t seem like such a good idea. Maybe it was some caveman throw back, but heading back to my place wasn’t what I wanted to do. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d stayed over, so it wouldn’t be totally crazy to suggest it.

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Not really sure why I felt so compelled, yet leaving didn’t feel right.

“Do you seriously think I’m going to have sex with you?” Kenzie’s voice rose as her ass levitated off the couch so fast I wasn’t sure if she’d gotten some wicked superpowers with the new mama status. No exaggeration, she was on her feet before I realized what the hell was going on.

“No. Of course not.” I scoffed. I hadn’t meant stick around so we could fuck. Well that hadn’t been my first thought anyway. Although, now that she brought it up, I wouldn’t say no. She was still freaking hot beyond words and those fucking tits were enough to get me on my knees. “I mean, unless you wanted to. Then I would totally be okay with it.”

“Joey.” Her head tipped to the side, the edge to her voice gone. Obviously she wasn’t as mad as I thought she would be. Bonus. I hadn’t even planned on sex tonight, so that was pretty fucking sweet.

“Yeah, baby?” The grin spread across my face as the front of my jeans started to get a little tighter. My dick needed very little encouragement and the woman in front of me was always able to give me a hard-on.

“I think you should hide those knives.” A chill blasted through the air.

“So is that a no?” I had to be sure. It’s not like she hadn’t played hard-to-get initially. Maybe she just wanted me to chase her a little more. Make her feel wanted. My dick and I were certainly
up
for that.

“Get out.” Surprisingly she didn’t yell. Though the evil look she was throwing my way clued me in she wasn’t kidding. Her finger pointing to the door was another hint in case I needed it.

“Fine, I’m leaving.” I moved off her couch and got my feet heading toward the door. “Call me about the appointment on Monday. I’m coming to the Obi-Gee Kenobi.” Whether I was sleeping with her or not, that shit was non-negotiable. I was going even if I didn’t know what the hell I was walking into.

“OB/GYN,” she corrected, fighting the slight grin that was working its way across her lips. “And I’ll call you, so you can leave now.”

“Leaving.” I raised my hands in mock surrender as I crossed the floor to the door. My feet hesitantly took me the rest of the way out of her apartment.

Leaving Kenzie wasn’t exactly what I wanted to be doing. Putting aside the sex part, which as I mentioned I totally would have been on board with, spending time with her was never hard. Unless by
hard
you were talking about my dick, which was most of the time when she was around. It wasn’t his fault though. Not when she looked like that.

But it was more; she wasn’t like the other girls. Maybe it was because she’d never wanted anything from me, or perhaps it was because she was in a band so totally got the lifestyle. Who knew the reason, but she was more than just a fuck, she’d been a friend first and if I had any say in it, I was keeping her as one. This was one relationship I couldn’t afford to screw up, especially not now.

The drive back to my pad in the Bronx was brutal, and not because of my ride. Since we’d signed the deal and gotten a little coin, I’d traded my old Chevy Blazer for a brand new, fully loaded Ford F350. But even the sweet new pair of wheels hadn’t made the trip more enjoyable. The thoughts turned in my head on an endless loop, with my mood flipping between disbelief and holy shit as I put the miles between Kenz and me. I really shouldn’t have left her.

“Bye, sexy.” The chick Max had obviously spent some quality time with was standing in the doorway when I climbed the front steps. “Thanks for tonight.” She giggled before turning to me. “Hey, Joey. Missed seeing you. You have fun?”

Clearly she knew who I was even though I was playing guess-who.

“Yeah, had an awesome time. Looks like I missed the party.” Not that she’d offered or that I would have been into a threesome. Well, not tonight anyway.

“Maybe next time.” She ignored me, her attention being on the dude who’d obviously made her come. “See ya, Max.” She gave him a little finger wave that I never really understood. Was it supposed to be cute? Anyway, whatever.

“See ya, babe.” The smooth bastard gave her a smile as we both watched her climb into her Hyundai. The ignition broke the silence as she started her piece of shit five-door and drove off.

“It’s not like you to push them out the door.” The raised eyebrow was unavoidable as I walked past Max and into our place. Not going to lie, the company leaving was a positive given the mood I was in tonight, but Max was usually classier than that. Him doing the bacon-and-eggs deal in the morning wasn’t uncommon and he didn’t do drive-by fucking.

“She has work in the morning, and you’re one to talk. When was the last time you let a girl stay over?” Max laughed as he followed me inside, the door slamming behind him as we made our way into the living room.

“Yeah, well I can’t sleep with people in my bed.” My ass sunk into the couch, my mind too juiced up to sleep. “I run hot, all that cuddling shit just makes it difficult. They get annoyed when you tell them to lay off the hugs after sex.”

Real talk. I could cuddle like a champ until it was time for lights out, then I wanted to be left the hell alone. I didn’t need a human throw rug. Fuck. That. I wanted to spread out, chill and sleep. Girls unfortunately didn’t really dig being told to stay on their side of the bed. It’s not like there wasn’t room, there was no need for them to be all up in my grill when we were catching Z’s.

“Imagine that.” Max laughed as he planted his ass in the opposite armchair. “Everyone is so sensitive these days.”

“Right?” I nodded in agreement, the dude obviously on the same page.

BOOK: Sticks (Black Addiction #2)
6.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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