Wicked Indulgence (Wicked Innocence 2)

“Yeah, well, who’d think I’d struggle to get to sleep at ten? Who are you texting?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“Kara,” she replies quickly. Her face reddens and I know she’s lying to me. I’m 99 percent sure she’s texting a dude.

I reach forward and swiftly grab the phone from her.

“Hey!” she cries, frantically trying to fight me for it.

“Why do you have Kara’s name as ‘Pete’ in your contacts?” I tease, laughing. “‘Can’t wait to see you too. I think about you all the time,’” I read.

Stace throws herself on the floor, her hands over her face.

“Awww, my li’l sis has a boyfriend? When do I get to meet him?”

“Never,” she says through gritted teeth. “Why are you always trying to embarrass me?” she cries. She reaches out and snatches her phone back, her eyes full of anger.

Chuckling, I reach over and rub her head. “I think it’s cute you have a boyfriend,” I reply.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she mumbles. “He’s just a guy…” She sighs dramatically. “I’m going to bed,” she says, getting to her feet. Holding her head high, she marches off up the stairs, not reacting to my laughter.

A few minutes later, Mom wanders in, a glass in hand, her eyes glazed.

Sighing, I watch her for a moment before speaking. “It was good being able to talk to you today, without that,” I say, nodding toward the glass I already know holds vodka and lemonade.

“Please don’t, Saxon,

” she sighs, sitting down in one of the armchairs. “It’s been a long day and I need to unwind. What’s wrong with the occasional drink?”

Nothing, but it always turns into four…or ten…

I don’t reply. Instead I flick through the TV channels aimlessly, not really paying attention to what’s on. Eventually I can’t take the awkward silence anymore.

“So, the Today show.” I wet my lips, almost not wanting to ask what I’m about to ask. “Are you proud of me?”

“Saxon…” Mom sighs.

“What?” I say, anger boiling inside of me. “Why is it so hard for you to support me?”

“You know your father—”

“I’m not asking Dad, I’m asking you. Surely you’re capable of thinking for yourself?” I push.

“Just leave it,” Mom pleads, her dark eyes meeting mine.

“Fine,” I mutter, standing up. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

****

I sigh as I swing my car into a park outside the studios at 4:45am. Who the fuck willingly gets up this early? Even after three coffees, I’m still not fully awake, but this is as probably as good as I get today. I was lucky enough to get about two hours sleep, so things could be worse.

As I walk through the near empty lot, I glance around for other signs of life. I’m the first one here, which makes me laugh. I’m never the first one anywhere. Will Lyndall be here? I snort. Probably not. A woman like that wouldn’t give up her beauty sleep that easily.

I show my ID to the security guard at the door, and make my way up to floor six. I exit the elevator, and ahead of me is Lyndall talking to some fancy dude in a suit. Hands in my pockets, I swagger over there. Her face lights up when she sees me.

“Sax, you made it. And on time,” she adds.

“I’m known for my punctuality,” I fib, keeping my expression serious. She narrows her eyes and studies my face for a moment, as if she’s trying to figure out whether or not I’m serious.

“Yeah, well, let’s hope you’ve past that trait onto the rest of the guys.” She turns her attention back to her friend. “This is Michael, the producer of the Today show. Michael, this is the lead singer from Savage, Saxon Waite.”