My 3 Rockstar Bosses

“Thank you, Mrs. Murtz. Good to be back.”

It was nice to be back home, but it was nothing compared to being on the road with the guys. Because even though I was about to have dinner with my parents for the first time in months, I just wanted to run back to our hotel room and fall into bed with my big alphas. Those blue eyes made me swoon.

Plus, it wasn’t all about the sex. As much as I loved the physical aspects of our relationship, there was so much more. Don’t get me wrong, the intimacy was incredible, but the guys are amazing in other ways too. I missed Mason practicing on guitar even though he’d never play it at a show, Trent asking for my opinion on his new lyrics, or even simply playing cards with Nick.

Hopefully, they missed me. I knew that I missed them. My heart swooned, wondering what they were doing at the moment. Is this what women in relationships do? Is this what it feels like to be married?

Because I think of Mason, Nick and Trent 24/7. They’re my everything, and I love all aspects of being with the men. But marriage? That’s a long shot.

I shook my head, even though nobody could have heard my thought. It was dumb. A four-way marriage was a reality that could never be.

Frowning at my own stupid thoughts, I rang my parents’ doorbell. Right away, the door flew open and my mother appeared. She had been waiting for me.

“Katy!” the bespectacled woman squealed.

Ethel fell all over me with hugs and another cry of happiness. As usual, she smelled like home-cooked food and sweet comfort. Her round face was full of smiles and pride.

“Mom!” We hugged and grinned at each other in the doorway. “I missed you!”

Alpha Prime was so incredible. I had been so focused on them that I hadn’t thought about what I left behind.

“Oh, my sweet Katy!” she exclaimed, pulling me in for another hug. “We missed you so, so, so much!”

“Missed you guys too,” I replied, smiling. “How have you been?”

“Always good, Katy.” Mom pulled me all the way into the apartment and started chattering a mile a minute about seeing the band on TV and watching the crowd at the televised concerts. It was all to catch a glimpse of my face. “I never see you! The crowds are too big, maybe we missed you on TV?”

A giggle escaped me. She was so sweet.

“You know, I’m always in the background, Mom. Never on screen or anyplace people can actually see me. That’s what it means to be an assistant.”

“I figured, but it didn’t hurt to look for my baby.” She took my light coat and hung it up. “One day, we both might get a surprise and see you standing in the middle of them in bright, living color.” A mischievous grin dimpled her cheeks.

My curls flew as I shook my head and giggled. “Mom, please.”

“Sometimes us moms just know things,” Ethel chortled, flashing me a quick wink.

Once we got to the living room, I gave her the canvas bag of goodies that I’d lugged all the way from the West Coast. It contained some of my mother’s favorites: red wine from Napa, fresh-baked bread from San Francisco, and a California-style cookbook.

“Picked some things up for you while I was in San Francisco. Hope you like it.”

“Thanks, honey. You know you didn't have to,” she said, but she looked so happy with her big, sparkling eyes. That was what made it all worth it.

She looked through the bag and squealed. “Real sourdough! You’re such a good daughter.” Mom liked to eat as much as me. It was one of many things that we had in common.

Still gushing about the gifts, Ethel rushed ahead to put the canvas bag in the kitchen as I trailed behind her.

The apartment was clean as always and neat as a pin, but things jumped out at me that I never noticed before.

It was small. The apartment was full of cozy, familiar knickknacks and the worn-but-comfortable furniture that had looked used even when I was young. Touring with Alpha Prime had shown me a different type of lifestyle. The home was where I had grown up, but lavish hotel rooms made the Brooklyn apartment seem miniscule. It was tiny, there were no two ways about it.

Immediately, I felt like terrible. These comparisons were unfair because small doesn’t have to be bad, I reminded myself. This is home. This is where I grew up.

“Come into the dining room, sweetie! You're right on time for dinner.” Mom rushed back into the living room without the bread or wine, moving faster than her round figure seemed capable of. “I made meatloaf!”

Snobbery is not the right way to think of things, came the voice in my head. Mom and Dad deserve better than that.

I had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed my father. He looked up from the iPad on his lap and pushed the glasses up onto his nose.