The Rocker's Babies (The Rocker 6)

When I heard the roar of Drake’s truck starting I flopped carelessly down on the lounger once more. Nik came out of the house with an apple in one hand and a Corona in the other. He tipped Axton’s lounger with his foot, tipping him out of the chair. “Wake up!”

Ax grunted, pushing himself into a sitting position but didn’t try to stand. “I got maybe an hour of sleep last night, man. Leave me alone.”

Four sets of eyes turned on him, curious. Zander was the first to call him on it. “What—or should I ask whom—were you doing to keep you up all night, Cage?”

Nik and I shared a look before snickering. Every member of OtherWorld had been hot for Dallas. When she had broken things off with him, they had been more than a little pissed at him. “Only Miss Texas,” Nik offered.

“You hooked up with Dallas again?” Devlin grunted. “I bet you a thousand dollars that she is only looking for a weekend hookup. She’s not going to keep you around longer than tomorrow night.”

Axton flipped the drummer off before finally getting to his feet and sitting back down on the lounger. “Shut the fuck up, Dev.”

“I’ll take that bet, Dev.” Wroth chuckled when Axton shot him the finger too. “Ah, come on, man. You know that chick isn’t going to put up with your shit. She’s smarter than fucking Gabriella.”

“Smarter, maybe,” Liam commented, messing with his phone. “But no less hot. And no less a bitch.”

Wroth, Devlin, and Zander raised their beers in agreement. “Amen, brother.”

Three hours later we were sitting down at the patio table eating steaks that Jesse had grilled when he had gotten back from his house. Drake and Mia still weren’t back yet, and I was growing more anxious to talk to Harper by the minute. It was insane. I had just seen her that morning, but that was the way it always was with us. When I was on tour I was like a drug addict the entire time I was away from her. My skin crawling, my heart racing, my body shaking until I could kiss her, hold her again.

I lifted my corn on the cob that Jesse had grilled to perfection and bit into it just as Nik raised his beer. “I never thought this day would come. All those years of watching Shane screw anything with a pussy, I think we all had given up on him getting married. But here we sit, counting down the hours until the biggest man-whore in rock history puts a ring on his woman’s finger. So let’s take a drink and remember the old days. Not necessarily the best days, but still good ones.” They all took a drink from their bottles before Nik raised his beer again. “To my friend and brother: Be happy.”

“Hear, hear,” everyone echoed, and I downed the rest of my beer to keep from tearing up. I was not going to be a pussy tonight.

Drake returned a few hours later, minus Mia. He looked tired, but he was still grinning when he dropped down onto the sectional in the living room where we were all watching some college football. As usual the SEC were dominating. Axton and the others had grown up in Tennessee, but had been die-hard Alabama fans from the time they were in diapers. Whereas my band brothers and I had grown up in Ohio and had followed the Buckeyes forever. Both were dominant football teams, but neither were playing tonight, thank fuck.

Wroth had one of his acoustic guitars with him and was strumming a few chords every now and then. I was itching to play too, but my guitars were all back at my house. It had been a few months since we had gone on tour, and I was still finding it hard to not be constantly on the road. Not because I missed the road, but because I was so used to playing every day. Lately I had to pick up my Fender and play just so I could see if I remembered how to do it.

“How’s Marissa?” Drake asked Liam during a commercial break.

Liam shrugged. “She’s good.”

“She’s watching Harris for Devlin tonight,” Wroth informed us. “Now that the boy’s getting older, Devlin wants to take him on tours with us. Rissa is going to tag along and help out with him.”

My eyes widened. “And you’re okay with that?” Wroth tended to act more like Marissa’s big brother than Liam half the time. He had always put his foot down when it came to her touring with the band.

“I didn’t get a vote,” Wroth bit out.

“I was going to hire a nanny, but Harris threw a total shit fit. I can’t really blame him.” Devlin smirked. “If I were fourteen I wouldn’t want a nanny either. He gets along with Marissa so I figured it would be the best solution. The only one complaining about it is Wroth.”

“Rissa isn’t like Emmie. She won’t know how to handle five dumbass guys on one bus. Not the way we act. Not the way we all whore around.”

Marissa was wonderful, but I wasn’t so sure if Wroth’s protests were coming from his protective side or his possessive one. His family connection with Liam didn’t extend to Marissa, even though it had been Wroth’s parents who had practically raised her. Wroth’s mom had been sisters with Liam’s. Marissa had a different mother, who had cut and run when she was five. Not long after that their old man had been in an accident—his tractor trailer hit some black ice and he skidded over an embankment. Wroth’s mother had been the only family Liam had left while Marissa had had no one. Mrs. Niall had plead for custody of the girl instead of letting her go into foster care.

When the conversation turned to something else, I tuned out. My gaze kept going to my phone, my fingers itching to pick it up and at least text my girl if not actually call her. I was nearly sick with the need to talk to her in some way. Muttering a curse I finally gave in and grabbed my phone.

“Who had eleven?” Jesse called out, smirking when he saw that I was texting away like a mad man.

“Damn it!” Devlin yelled. “I had midnight. Fucker, you couldn’t wait another hour?”

I barely raised my eyes from the text I was getting ready to send to Harper. “What are you talking about?”

“We had a bet that you couldn’t go all night without talking to her,” Drake informed me, taking a drink from his can of Dr. Pepper. “I had five-thirty.”

“I win!” Nik stood, holding his hand out to the men sitting around him. “Cough it up, bitches.”

“How much did you win?” I demanded.

“We all bet five,” Drake said, pulling his wallet out and reaching for the cash he owed.

“Five hundred?” It wouldn’t have surprised me if it had even been five thousand. My friends were idiots like that sometimes when we got together.