Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

“Worse than usual. I appreciate you wanting my input, truly I do, but Jesus, there’s a million other producers who could—”

“A million others who aren’t you. If you don’t want to come back to New York, why don’t you just say so?”

I slammed my hand against the side of the console and swore under my breath as it wobbled on its legs. Shoddy workmanship. When I got my real place, I’d make sure—

Right, because this was all temporary. I’d moved into this apartment two years ago, thinking I’d be gone in a year. Instead, it had stretched into another while I searched for my dream home. Even with plenty of money at my disposal, and a mind full of ideas, I couldn’t seem to find what I wanted. LA and its surrounding suburbs had everything I could ever imagine. It didn’t make sense I couldn’t find a place to suit.

Unless I hadn’t been meant to find a place here at all. Searching forever in the wrong spot wouldn’t lead to the fucking pot of gold, no matter how many hours I invested.

“It has nothing to do with New York. Wait a second, you’re back there already?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because my fiancée’s family is here, perhaps? Did you fall out of bed while reaching for your Pepto and hit your head on the floor?”

I laughed before I could stop myself. It was encouragement Ian didn’t need. Ivy might’ve called me Lucky Charms, but Ian was the one who made people happy. Not me.

I rubbed the stitch in my side. I was a dour bloke who probably would need Pepto if I didn’t stop mainlining coffee like it was water and not getting any rest.

And let’s not forget the medicinal qualities of sex. I missed those too.

“We just left there weeks ago.”

“It’s been more than a month. Heading toward a month and half. We went home, handled what we needed to there, and came back to the farm. Zoe wants to be here for the baby’s birth and she can’t be flitting about until the day of, you know.”

No, I didn’t know. I wasn’t an expert on childbirth. Why would I need to be? I didn’t even intend to have kids. Or a wife.

Why would I need any of those things? Obviously, I was ridiculously happy all on my own.

Right.

A thought occurred to me. “Which others are you doing songs with?”

He grew quiet. For about fifteen seconds, Ian’s max. “Finally heard that, hmm? Your mind is half a dozen steps behind, mate.”

“I have a lot to think about.”

“Do you now? So envious. And here I am, with absolutely nothing in my head.”

I laughed again and stared up at the ceiling. “Why do you like me, Ian? Seriously. I can’t see why you cultivate our friendship. What’s in it for you?”

“The truth.”

“Pardon?”

“You don’t snow me, ever, and we both know how rare that is in this business. You also don’t kiss my ass. If you’re nice to me, it’s because you want to be, not because you expect something in return. Plus, you’re oddly good at Karaoke, even if it takes a few pints of Guinness to get you to that point.”

“You’ve never heard me sing Karaoke.”

“The recording feature on my phone says otherwise.”

I sat back down in my swivel chair and braced my elbow against my knee. Rubbing my face didn’t begin to erase the exhaustion. I feared nothing could.

At least not on this coast. Right now, New York felt like another planet.

Almost at once, I realized who Ian was working with. That canny fucker. “You’ve been sneaking around with Kellan.”