**Kim**
"Kimberley! I have some stern words for you young lady!"
Lucy gave me an apologetic look as Tony's voice echoed shrilly down the hall that lead from the front of house to the great room overlooking the pool terrace at the back.
"What did you tell him?" I winced. I needed to know just how much groveling I was in for.
"Nothing. Only that you and the band are here for a couple of days before we all hit the road." Lucy gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I should have felt better but the way she scrunched up her nose didn't give me much hope. "But you know what he's like, he's probably managed to weasel out the entire story somehow."
"Yay for me!" I gave a pathetic little cheer accompanied by a pair of listlessly waving fists. I was not ready for the in depth debrief that Tony would require from me regarding potentially everything. Van wasn't the only person I'd kept the full details about my family from, of the people I was close to I'd only ever discussed them with Lucy and her parents. Not to mention the fact that I may have neglected to mention to Tony that Van and I had become a thing. Oh, and I hadn't told him about the baby yet either. Maybe I could throw the news of my future child on his mercy as an apology for neglecting to mention certain other pertinent facts regarding my life.
Tony entered the room with a flourish. "Ladies, prepare to explain yourselves."
My words of apology turned to ashes in my mouth and my jaw dropped open. How the hell could I even begin to describe Tony's extraordinary attire?
"Oh god," Lucy groaned, "when Zac's not around to control his fashion choices he thinks he's Rico Suave." I loved the way she rolled her mouth around and extended the word swaaarveeey.
Tony lifted his mirrored glasses to better glare at Lucy and said, "Don't try and change the topic Lucifer. You, and you," he swung around and jabbed a finger in my direction, "have been with holding important information." He slapped a hand to his tropical print covered chest. "I am appalled. Devastated. Heartbroken. I thought we were BFF's. Your secrets have wounded me." He allowed his bottom lip to tremble just slightly. I managed to restrain my eye roll because whilst I knew that Tony loved drama and was currently doing his best to show that Bas wasn't the only one capable of offering up Oscar worthy performances I was also aware that I had kept secrets from him. Probably the worst one in his books was my Insta-famous sister. He had a not so secret hankering to be an influencer when he wasn't planning world domination as a nightclub Tsar. Or maybe he'd think keeping my relationship with Van a secret from him would be a worse crime. Either way I'd deprived him of crucial gossip.
Lucy snorted and took a sip of her mineral water. "Oh is that the reason for this morning's affirmations on Instagram?" she asked deadpan.
Tony gasped and snatched the glass from her hand. "I'll have you know my followers love my affirmations!" He took a sip and screwed up his nose as he gave the glass a quizzical look.
"I hope more than I like this new look of yours. You look a refugee from a seventies porn set." Lucy smirked as she lobbed another conversational bomb.
I sank back into the sofa and turned my attention to the glorious Los Angeles day outside. It was a far cry from the grim weather we'd left behind in London and New York. The sun was sparkling off the pool and it felt like another world. I vaguely listened in as Lucy and Tony bickered back and forth like siblings – they'd become even closer since Tony had started dating Zac, Bas's assistant. On the other side of the pool I could see Josh and Ace stretched out on sun lounges as Gray sat off to the side on a chair roughly pulled free of a table and moodily strummed his guitar. Van was nowhere in sight.
I turned my attention back to Lucy and Tony, who was watching me intently even as he tossed words back and forth with Lucy. "I feel snubbed!" he dropped his voice dramatically. This time I had no temptation to roll my eyes, he'd tossed his sunglasses aside and I could see very real hurt in his expression. He gulped back a mouthful of the drink he'd stolen from Lucy.
"I'm pregnant," I blurted just as he frowned down at the glass in his hand and asked, "Why the hell are you both just drinking sparkling water?"
"What did you say?" he asked breathlessly as I repeated, "I'm pregnant."
"Oh my god!" he shrieked and flung himself at me. "I'm going to be an uncle!" I laughed as he flung his arms around me and wrestled me back into the sofa. "Van is certainly a fast worker. That man is potent!" he said admiringly.
I screwed my nose up in a grimace and batted away the hand he'd dropped to my belly – it was way too early for that kind of thing. Lucy made a gurgle that had me glancing in her direction, she was watching on with interest, waiting to hear what my reply to Tony would be,
"Van may be potent but he's not that potent. The baby's not his." I couldn't help the hint of sharpness in my tone. It sounded like a trashy soap opera and as much as I wanted to hang my head in shame for being that girl I was pleased that I could make it up to Tony by sharing the daytime TV drama with him. He lived for this type of gossip.
I was not disappointed. "Noooo!" His jaw unhinged like an anaconda preparing to swallow a goat. He turned to Lucy and barked, "Hero Lucinda Connelly-Clarke, I cannot be expected to sip on mineral water while Kim unburdens herself of the entire scandalous story! Surely in this house owned by a rockstar currently occupied by rockstars you can find me a real drink. Quick! There's no time to lose!" He flapped a hand at her before turning back to me and took both of my hands in his. With a sigh Lucy stood up and padded across the vast expanse of hardwood flooring to the double pocket doors that led to the kitchen.
Tony turned back to me his eyes wide and his face solemn as he said, "Now, tell me which other delicious musical stud have you been banging to leave you in this delicate condition?"
I felt myself slump in defeat. "Not a musician. Bradley."
Tony frowned in confusion. "Bradley?" He ran a finger across his eyebrow. "Don't tell me he's a roadie."
I didn't like the emphasis he put on the word roadie. "Hey! Van used to be a roadie!"
He gave my hand a pat. "I know and if Van was still a roadie I wouldn't care but that's kind of my point isn't it? You have the divine Evan Williams and you've let some other fella – potentially a roadie, that's yet to be confirmed or denied – impregnate you. I'd have expected that if it wasn't Van only the finest quality suitor would be allowed to plant anything in your lady garden."
I'd just raised my glass to my lips and proceeded to spit water all over his hideous shirt. "Oh. My. God. Tony! Don't ever refer to my lady garden again!"
He offered me a shrug and a smirk. "It's not like I've never seen it."
"You promised never to mention that again," I hissed. I'd once had to summon his assistance during a home waxing epic fail. The blow to my dignity that day had put me in good stead for what I had been told was the mortification of all and sundry in the medical profession taking a look at your snatch during pregnancy.
"Well I wouldn't need to if you'd just tell me how you hooked up with a roadie when you have Van taking up space in your bed," he pointed out with a pout.
I rolled my eyes and snapped. "I didn't! It was Bradley Tony. Bradley. Remember? My cheating twat of an ex-boyfriend. He managed to leave me a parting gift."
He made a strangled sound somewhere between a gasp, a choke and a scream. I'd have been delighted with his response if I'd been a TV writer with a bombshell revelation.
"Lucy!" he called out. "Whatever it is you're pouring in there, you'd better bring out the bottle!"
Inexplicably tears had begun to well up in my eyes – I'd had plenty of time to get over this, I had no reason to cry anymore. Just because I shouldn't didn't mean I didn't. I found myself tucked up against Tony's mineral water soaked chest as he murmured, "Oh honey, what a shithead. Jewellery is a much better parting gift."
Lucy reappeared with a bottle of wine and an apologetic look, although the vibrantly coloured glass of juice she placed on the lamp table beside the sofa for me almost made up for my not being able to drink wine. Almost. When she sat down beside me and I found myself the filling in a Lucy and Tony sandwich I burst into tears and told them everything.
Well, almost everything. I didn't mention Van's lying ex and the baby that wasn't his. It wasn't my story to tell for a start and the topic still made me wary. Even though somewhere over middle-America we'd fallen on each others's necks and apologised – me for not telling him exactly who my family were and him for getting drunk and fighting with Gray – we'd both avoided his brother's cruel revelations. I was left with an uneasy sense of insecurity.
*****
Over a week later we were firmly situated on the tour bus heading out on the first leg of the tour. The tour bus was even better than my Wendy House dreams could have imagined. Carefully integrated cabinetry, seating areas, a kitchenette and a set of bunk style bed nooks that were the stuff of childhood sleep over dreams made it a palace on wheels.
I'd had visions of an intercity coach fitted out with maybe a microwave oven and a couple of bunk beds but it was so much better than that. This thing was pure luxury. It was insane. I hadn't expected how well fitted out this thing was going to be. I hadn't played any part in those arrangements they'd all been made before I started working with Lucy and the band. It was a good thing that Lucy had grown up immersed not just in the world of Hollywood but also the world of touring rock bands because I wouldn't have had the first clue of where to start when it came to booking the behemoth that was rumbling down the highway toward Polarstar's next show. Frankly I wasn't even sure that Lucy had known either but she at least had the benefit of knowing who to ask.
Stretching out on the surprisingly large and even more surprisingly comfortable bed situated in a compact bedroom at the very rear of the bus I gave a tiny shimmy of glee. For some reason this tiny room, filled with all sorts of cunningly hidden and cleverly designed storage options felt as though it was Van's and my first place together. Ignoring the fact that we'd agreed that whenever Bas was able to join us he and Lucy would have the room, it was the first place that he and I had taken residence in as a couple. Our flat – or should I say Lucy's flat – didn't count. We'd been friends, flatmates thrown together by circumstance. This might not have been my real life – or maybe it was now, the idea still confused me – but it was definitely Van's. For the most part he lived his life on the road, so for us to have carved out our own little joint niche in the sometimes claustrophobic life of touring felt special. It felt important. Even more important because the others on the bus, Lucy, Josh, Ace and even Gray had willingly foregone the agreement we'd made back before Van and I had gotten together which was to take turns at sleeping in the back room rather than in one of the six bunks. I was grateful, especially to Gray, after his fight with Van it felt like we had unfinished business, because by giving Van and me our own space they'd given us a chance to heal our relationship in private.
Except we hadn't really. Healed our relationship that is. Oh we were still laughing and joking, snuggling and kissing and certain that there was no one we'd rather spend time with than each other and the sex was ah-mazing. At least from my perspective that was all true. But was I wrong? Maybe it was only from my perspective. Van's ex-girlfriend Sammy was still between us like an invisible wall. Neither of us was prepared to bring up her name. And while that was the case I felt...insecure.
The click of the door opening had me sitting up in bed to the sight of Van entering the room with a plate in his hands. Mmmmmm. My current two favourite things – Van and food.
"I didn't wake you did I?" he asked as he came around the side of the bed to sit beside me.
"No, I was already awake." And agonizing over our relationship.
"That's good." His smile made my stomach do a flip, even with the current weird distance between us I was still one of the few people to receive that true smile from him. He still managed to project a vibe of aloof coolness to most people – they only ever got his enigmatic smirk.
I curled my body around him, unable to resist touching him. He was my person and I had a terrible fear that I wasn't his, that my baby and I were just second best to a woman and child who were long gone. Far too terrified to initiate a conversation that might mean I'd hear something that would shatter my heart I poked him in the hip with the tip of my finger.
"You're up early."
His chuckle was warm and rich. "No, you're just getting used to life on the road. Late nights, late mornings. After so many years I'm used to it. And you have an even better reason than the rest of us to sleep in. Although this morning you've slept extra late." He wafted the plate beneath my nose, the scent of bacon made my stomach rumble and my mouth water. "Even Josh has been lured from his bunk by this morning's breakfast."
I propped myself up on one elbow and snagged a piece of toast from the plate. My morning sickness had been blissfully infrequent but I hadn't been feeling too brilliant the last few days and I wasn't game to risk diving straight into the bacon and eggs without a protective carbohydrate lining in my stomach. "Thank god for Lucy and her cooking skills, eh?" I mumbled around a mouthful of toast.
His look of deep offense was tempered by a smile, "I'll have you know that you have me to thank for the feast before you. Lucy's busy crunching her way through toast smothered in that vile black shit she likes. She's even got Ace spreading it on his toast before he puts his egg on top."
"It's the vitamin B." I tool another bite of toast. "Helps with the hangovers."
He threaded his fingers through my hair in a soft caress with one hand before waggling the heaped plate in front of me with the other. "Now sit up and eat your breakfast, it's not just you who needs the food."
Sitting up I shuffled back and propped the pillows behind me. He handed me the plate and then retrieved a knife and fork from the front pocket of his flannel shirt and passed them to me.
"Thank you. This looks delicious. You didn't need to feed me in bed though. I could have come out to eat with the rest of you."
His easy smile was at odds with the intensity of his eyes as he said, "I like to look after you. If I for one minute thought that you'd swallow it I'd be serving you up a green smoothie right now."
My fork was halfway to my mouth with a piece of bacon dangling off the end. "Ewwww. Not a chance." I screwed up my nose and shoved the bacon into my mouth.
He sighed. "I know but I really want to make sure that you and the baby are properly looked after and you have everything you need."
Just like that the delicious bacon in my mouth took on the taste and texture of cardboard. As much as I appreciated his concern I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that I was nothing more than his chance at a do over.
Unfortunately, in this case, bacon did not make everything better.