Enjoy Your Stay (16 page)

Fuck me. I need a drink.

I let out a shaky breath, waiting for the moment when Hols pushes me away, but she doesn’t. She trails soft kisses up my shoulder, her legs still wrapped around my waist, her pussy still clenched tight around my softening cock. I pull back, and attempt to slide myself out of her beautiful cunt, but she moans, and digs her heels into my arse to hold me in place.

“What’s going on with you?” I tease, as I pull her arms from my neck and place a soft, wet kiss to her hands.

“Nothing. I’m just not sure I’m ready to let you go yet,” she replies, as she inches her hands across my chest and down my happy trail.

Snickers’ little tongue laps at the egg on my feet. I glance down at the mess I made—the mess we made—and laugh. The little shit is covered in eggshell, his nose slimy with it, and bits of shell are stuck to his fur.

“Aw, shit. Ana’s gonna kill us.”

“Hey, I had nothing to do with knocking the eggs off the bench. That was all you, mister.”

“Well, if I hadn’t, you’d have shell buried in your arse right now.”

“True.” She laughs, and fuck me, it sounds like birds and springtime, and all that other fucking bullshit Disney feeds us.

The doorbell rings, saving me from going so mad I have to commit myself. I pull out, zip up my jeans, and head for the door. I’m sure I’m wearing scratch marks on my chest as well as my back, but I just came harder than I have in months, so I’m not complaining. I run my hand through my hair, and pull back the front door.

Fuck me dead. Did I die in that car accident, or am I still in a coma, because going from one fucking off-the-charts woman in the kitchen to having another standing at my door has to be a dream. Either that, or my brain is starved from all the blood rushing to my dick. The brunette on my doorstep has to be at least 5’8”, and is wearing a pair of black spiked heels with skinny jeans, and a band T-shirt that can barely contain her tits. She smiles through bright-red lipstick, and pushes her sunnies up on her head.

I lean against the doorframe. “Can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. I’ve been driving around this asshole town for the last two hours looking for this place.”

“Well, you found me … us. You found us, now what can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for Holly Harris.”

So not the answer I was expecting. “She’s ah, she’s …”

“Right behind you, Jackarse,” she says with a clipped tone. I twist around and see a very pissed off Holly Harris. Her arms are folded over her chest, her eyes are narrowed, jaw set. I’m a little concerned she might start breathing fire.

Yeah, okay, I’d absolutely deserve that, but I’m blaming the mind-blowing sex we just had in the kitchen, because sex makes me stupid.

“Hi, I’m Deb,” she says, and extends her hand. Holly comes forward, and Deb’s eyes flit over her stomach with concern. “Are you—are you pregnant?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Holly asks.

“Debbie R—” Her phone rings, and she holds up a finger and takes a step back from us. “Yeah, I’m here. Well don’t take it out on me, it took me three fucking hours to get here, and now I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere until I can get my flight back at seven. No, of course I haven’t given it to her yet, but I don’t think—”

“The Glorious Daddies.” Holly says out of nowhere. I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about. Debbie’s still on the phone arguing with whoever is on the other end, and I follow the line of Holly’s gaze. She’s staring at Deb’s tits. She’s staring at Deb’s tits, and she looks horrified. I’m about to ask her why—they’re pretty nice tits—when it clicks. The Glorious Daddies. Deb’s wearing a Glorious Daddies T-shirt. I’m still not sure why that’s cause for the colour to drain from Hols’s face, but she’s pale as all hell, and looks like she might chuck up.

“Coop, would you shut the fuck up, please? The Holly Harris I’m looking at is pregnant.”

Ah.
Now
I get why she’s looking green. I kinda feel like I might blow chunks myself. I look at Hols, who’s lost that fucking stunning I-just-had-the-shit-fucked-out-of-me glow. She looks like she might faint.

“Hols, you okay?” I ask, but that’s drowned out with Debbie shouting into the phone, and then hanging up on Cooper.

“Well this is awkward. I’m really sorry to just barge in. The Glorious Daddies are playing the entertainment centre tomorrow night. They’re kicking off a national tour starting in the place it all began, and Coop sent me up here with two tickets for you and an Ana-someone … obviously he didn’t know about, you know.” She waves her hand in the direction of Holly’s stomach. “Or I’m sure he never would have offered. He’s, um, dealing with some stuff right now. I think it’s world domination nerves or something, but he insisted you be at the first show, so … sorry for the mix up. You should know he talks a lot about you—a lot. Like, he doesn’t shut up, ever since he came back, but I’m sure your new husband doesn’t need to hear that, so just forget it, and—”

“We’re not married,” Holly mutters like she’s on auto-pilot.

“Really? Oh, wait, how far along did you say you are?”

“I’m twenty-three weeks.”

“Oh.” She nods her head, and then her eyes go wide. “It’s not—”

Her phone rings again, and she rolls her eyes. “Hold on, my brother gets kinda pissy when I hang up on him,” she answers the phone.

“Imagine that,” I say.

“Coop, you need to chill the fuck out. You’re not cancelling this tour, you can’t. It’s not yours, she’s only, like, twenty-three weeks.” She turns to Holly for confirmation. “Right? Oh my God, you’re an arsehole, okay, here …” She covers the speaker, and holds the phone out to Holly. “Sorry, he’s kinda insisting he talks to you.”

Holly shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Look, if you just tell him that’s not his baby, he’ll calm down. He’s kinda nuts these days. I think the fame’s gone to his head.” She holds the phone out for Holly to take again, and Holly just stares at it.

“Hols, I think you should go lie down,”

“Wait, that kid’s not his … is it?”

Holly can do nothing but shake her head, and then she sits down hard on the front porch. Her pupils are dilated, her skin white as a sheet. She’s shaking, and her eyes are wide and glassy with unshed tears. She looks terrified. None of this is good for the baby. My head finally snaps into place, and I pick her up from the floor. “Come on; let’s get you back to bed,” I say, and I help her across the threshold and into the house. She’s crying just as hard as she did that day in our tent.

“I think you need to leave,” I say to Debbie as she follows me into the house. She takes a look at the mess in the kitchen, and I’m guessing the scratches on my back are bright red, because they certainly feel like hell.

She pulls my arm, stupid, considering I’m holding Holly upright, but it frees her up enough to see Hols’s face. “Is this Cooper’s kid?”

“It’s my kid. That’s all that matters.”

“Are you telling me he’s going to be a dad? I’m going to be an aunty, and we aren’t allowed to see the kid? You can’t shut him out like that. He has rights, you know? That kid has a right to know its father. Why are you doing this to him?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Holly demands. “Coop left me here to go and live out his dreams as a rock star. He got what he wanted, and I got lumped with the demon-seed he left behind.”

Holly sits down on the couch. I shield her body from Debbie, and say forcefully, “You need to leave.”

She lets out a disgruntled sigh, and stalks towards the door. “This isn’t the last of it. He’ll have a say in his child’s life. You can’t keep him away.”

“If she doesn’t shut the fuck up and get the hell off this property right now, I’m gonna have Snickers eat her.”

The dog lets out a little bark, and jumps up on the couch next to Hols, licking her hand. Her hands pet him but she’s a million miles away from this room right now. That crazy bitch Debbie slams the front door hard enough to rattle the walls. After I hear her car start, and pull off drown the driveway I turn to Holly.

“What are you gonna do, Hols?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I demand. “The father of your child is coming here, probably within the next few hours, and you don’t know? You’ve never thought about this shit?”

“I don’t know! Okay? I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do.”

“Well, I suggest you figure it out and fast, because if his sister’s anything to go by, this dude’s gonna be banging down our door for an answer.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“Talk to the guy, find out what he wants. At least let him look at a goddamned picture of his baby, and sort out what the fuck you’re gonna do before you screw everyone over.”

“Everyone, Jack? Or just you?”

“I didn’t force you to open your legs for this guy, Hols.”

“I loved him! I made a fucking mistake,” she yells.

“Yeah. So did I.” I shake my head, and run an agitated hand through my hair.
Fuck.
I’ve never wanted to hit something so badly.

Since I came back here, it feels like Hols has been stringing me along, like a dog on a chain. I’m sick and fucking tired of her prick-teasing bullshit. And I’m sick of feeling like shit about it every time I see her, and wanna bend her over backwards. Guess now I don’t have to worry, because her baby daddy’s gonna show up on our doorstep before long, and anything she and I had, however meaningful or fucked up, is about to turn to shit.

I grab a shirt from the back of the couch, slip it on, and shoot her a meaningful look. “Clock’s ticking, sweetheart.”

I need a drink, and then I need to go and erase Holly fucking Harris well and truly from my system.

I
DON’T
need a crystal ball to tell me who’s knocking on my door at four in the morning. I haven’t slept a wink. I slip on my robe, and tiptoe out of my room with Snickers nipping at my ankles. A girly laugh comes from behind Jack’s door.
Chelcie.
I press my ear against it like a total creeper. The laugh quickly turns to something more, not an outright moan, but close to it, and then Jack orders her to stop wriggling, and my heart drops through the floor. The pounding on the front door starts up again, louder this time, and I jump back like I’ve been burned.

I should have known. He was acting angsty all afternoon, so when he suggested they go to the pub and shoot a few rounds of pool, I didn’t think anything of it. I guess that’s the point—I didn’t think. Of course drinking with Jack always leads to sex. How could it not? I have this insane desire to kick down his door and go completely postal, smashing and crashing my way into the room and swearing until I’m blue in the face, tearing them apart with my bare hands if I have to, but I have no right to do that, because even though he fucked me—no, made love to me—this afternoon, it obviously meant nothing to him.

I swipe the tears from my eyes, and step into the lounge room. I take a deep breath and open the door. Coop’s standing on the other side. No surprise there. His floppy curls have been styled within an inch of their lives into a short buzz-cut on the sides, with the top half left a little too long and straight. It’s kinda like the emo version of Elijah’s hair. He’s decked out in black jeans, a black Misfits shirt, and he has one of those hipster scarves around his neck. He looks good, a little “city”, but just as edible as he always did.

He glances down at my belly peeking out from beneath my robe. For a second I think I see his expression soften, and then he goes completely rigid.

“Is it true?” he demands.

I can only nod.

“How could you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t want to burden you with it, Coop. You gave me an ultimatum. You made me choose between you and Ana, and you didn’t like the outcome. I knew you for a few months; I’ve known her my whole life.”

“I know. I was an idiot. I should have waited, but this? This kind of thing’s unforgivable. Hols? I had a right to know I had a kid.”

“Yeah, maybe you did. But would you have come back just because I was pregnant?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You broke my heart when you left, Coop. Forgive me if I’m not forthcoming with contacting you while you and your all-important band are traipsing all over the countryside,” I snap. “Congratulations, by the way. I always knew you’d hit it big.”