Never Been Worse (Evergreen Park #3)

Chapter 2 – Wes

TWO

WES

“We’ve got some great news,” Riggins says, his wife next to him, face aglow with happiness.

“Let me guess, you finally knocked up Stella?” Reed asks with a laugh, but when they don’t laugh along, instead smiling wider, the room goes quiet, each of us looking from Stella to Riggins, to each other.

“No fucking way,” Beckett says low, a wide smile spreading on his lips.

“I want to make sure I told Evie first, of course, but you guys were our—” Stella starts.

“Uncles!” Reed interrupts, moving over to Stella and kneeling before her stomach. “I’m going to be your favorite, of course?—”

“Stop being a creep, Reed,” I say, but I can’t fight the smile as he turns and glares at me over his shoulder.

“Yeah, dude, get off my wife,” Riggs says, pushing Reed in the shoulder gently, though Reed makes a show out of falling dramatically.

We all roll our eyes at him.

We’re at Riggins and Stella’s house in our hometown of Ashford. They called all of us here for an announcement of some kind, so everyone is here: Beckett and Reed, Jaime, our bodyguard but more importantly, a friend, and Leo, the band’s publicist. I knew it must be something that would impact everyone when even the ever-busy Leo was here.

“She’s just about twelve weeks, and her due date’s in August. Which means we need to postpone the upcoming tour.”

Our band, Atlas Oaks, was supposed to go on a worldwide tour to celebrate our new album that comes out in four months. Stella, who helps our lead singer and guitarist, Riggins, write songs, was planning to come with us, but with this new update, that won’t be feasible. We’ve been a band since we were in high school, Riggins playing guitar and singing, Beckett on drums, Reed on bass, and myself on lead guitar. We’ve seen each other through some of the darkest days and highest highs and are more of a family than a band at this point. At the end of the day, we will always put one another above the fame.

“Of course we do,” Reed says, the answer obvious to everyone in the room except, it seems, Riggins, who looks distraught as he runs a hand through his hair.

“The tour isn’t a huge deal, Riggs,” I say, my brow furrowed as I take him in, and I can see Stella biting her lip, a hand to her lower stomach, already protective of their baby.

A baby . Fuck.

It’s strange to think about, considering we’ve been a group since before most of us even graduated high school, and now Riggs and Stella are…having kids . Jesus. “We can push it off a year or three for all I care. Or…” I start, my brow furrowing. “Or do you guys want to stop touring altogether once the baby arrives?”

Maybe that’s the reason for the formal meeting and the panic on their faces from the moment we all stepped foot in their home. Maybe they want to stay here and focus on their family. Both can easily continue their careers as songwriters without Atlas Oaks.

My gut twists at the mere idea of not having a band to tour with, of not seeing the world and playing music with my best friends.

“God, no, we want to keep touring,” Stella says with a quick shake of her head. My confusion simmers more as I try to understand why this great news is anything but.

“It’s the press,” Beckett says, the quiet man of our tight-knit group, making sense as always. “Right?” Stella and Riggs look at one another, and then she nods. “You don’t want to tell the press you’re pregnant yet.”

“We want to keep it under wraps. It took us a while to get here, so just in case anything…happens, I’d like to keep things quiet. And I don’t want the press on our asses. But because the last time you guys postponed…” It kicks in then, the problem we’re going to face. The last time we postponed a tour was because Riggins was in rehab for alcoholism.

“I’d come out with it to avoid the drama,” Stella continues, biting her lip again. “But I’m really early. And with my depression, I’m high-risk. If something happens, I don’t want the entire world to know about it. I also don’t want them hounding me. They finally backed down a bit, which has been so nice.”

The reunion of Stella and Riggins, music’s one-time power couple, was huge news, especially when Riggins told the world he was married to Stella and had been for several years, despite their long-term breakup. Add in the drama of Stella’s mom and Riggins’s struggle with alcohol, and they just recently stopped getting followed every time they simply went to the grocery store.

“If you announce the tour is postponed without explanation, the press will think it’s like last time, and Riggins fell off the wagon,” Beck fills in bluntly. Even if we told the world Riggs wasn’t in rehab and that we just needed a break, the paparazzi, the forums, and social media will absolutely run with whatever version sells the most paper or gets the most likes.

“We need a different reason,” I say, with Reed, Beck, and Jaime, who has seen the worst of how the press can be, nodding in agreement.

Before anyone can respond, Stella covers her mouth with her hand and stands, rushing out of the room. We look around, eyes wide with confusion and concern, except for her husband.

“Morning sickness. She’s been sick a ton,” Riggs says, before he runs after his wife, leaving the rest of us in the living room.

Silence hangs in the room as we take in this big change before I break it. “We need to come up with an explanation for the break. Something legitimate. We need to get the press on to one of us.” Beck goes white at the mere idea of the press hounding him, and I roll my eyes. “Reed or me,” I say. “Don’t worry, big guy. We won’t make you a viral sensation.”

“I can pretend I want to try my hand at something cooler, like aerial acrobatics,” Reed suggests, and I sigh in exhaustion. I love Reed like a brother, but the man is out of his mind sometimes.

“Yeah, maybe we try something a bit more…believable?”

“That actually is pretty believable, if you know Reed,” Beck says, and I glare at him because Reed does not need encouragement.

“Yeah, I was thinking more like one of us calls up Willa and see if she needs a whirlwind romance,” I say of our pop star friend who has PR relationships to create buzz around her music. Riggins “dated” her when he and Stella broke up to cover up his drinking problem, and they wrote a few songs together to legitimize it.

“I volunteer as tribute!” Reed nearly yells, throwing his hand into the air.

“I think Willa is out,” Leo says with a shake of his head. “Considering she was tied with Riggins’s drama.” I cringe, knowing that to be true.

“We could call Evie and have her spin a story?” Beckett suggests, referencing Stella’s twin sister, Everest, who works as a journalist for a major music magazine.

I nod. “We should do that either way, but she’s not necessarily an unbiased source of information. It could do the opposite of what we need to accomplish, prove as evidence something’s up.” Leo nods.

“We’ve got some time,” Beckett says, his hands on his knees as he leans forward. “We should sit on it, think about what we could do. Being impulsive on this isn’t the right move.”

“Just don’t mention it to Riggs, yeah?” I say, tipping my chin to Reed, the biggest mouth of all. “He’s got enough on his plate.”

He rolls his eyes but nods.

“He’ll just tell us not to worry and then run off with some stupid last-minute plan that makes things worse. Maybe—” Reed starts, but Jaime's phone rings, cutting him off. When he looks at the screen, his face lights up.

Ava .

The only person on this earth who makes Jaime look that happy is his wife, and even then, sometimes he looks like?—

“What do you mean arrested?” he barks into the phone.

Like that.

More often than not, his wife makes him look like that . Red-faced and annoyed and a bit panicked because she tends to often find herself in a bit of trouble. I can’t hear the person on the other end of the line, but I watch Jaime’s face get increasingly red.

“Jesus Christ, Ava, vandalism and stalking ?” My eyes go wide, and Reed is bouncing in his seat, fighting the urge to laugh out loud, something we know from experience will just turn his ire to one of us. “I don’t care if you weren’t actually stalking the man, Ava. If you’re charged with stalking and it goes through, you’re a fucking stalker forever. And you’re pregnant, Ava! Jesus fuck. What were you doing there?” Another pause before his head tips up to the ceiling and he sighs deeply. “Ava Wilde, love of my life, mother of my future children, you are going to send me into an early grave.” Another pause before he groans. “Yes, because you’re fucking insane! Why else?” There’s another pause before his face turns red, a blush burning over his cheeks. “Ava, I’m begging you, please stop. I’m in a room with the Atlas Oaks guys, and you’re in a fucking police station. This call is being recorded. ”

“Ava Wilde is an icon,” Reed says low. “She’s the only woman I know who would be in a holding cell and trying to have phone sex with her husband.”

Jaime's eyes snap to Reed with a threat.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in…” Jaime pauses, looking at the clock on the wall before answering. “Thirty. I’m in Ashford. Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Princess.” One final pause before his face goes from soft to annoyed again. “God, Ava, I’m not bringing Peach. Jesus Christ, woman. See you soon.” He hangs up before taking a deep breath with closed eyes like he’s trying to center himself before he stands.

“What’s going on?” I ask, standing as well. Whatever is going on, I want to go with him because it’s bound to be entertaining. Plus, there’s not much else I can do here. I need some time to think of a good solution, and it sounds like Riggs and Stella might need some alone time.

“Ava, Jules, and Harper all just got arrested,” he says, shrugging on his jacket as Reed snorts out a laugh.

“What? How?”

“Harper’s boyfriend dumped her after cheating on her. I heard them the other day, planning this crazy shit. I didn’t think to stop it because I figured it was just them venting.”

“Bad call,” I say low, knowing Ava, and Jaime nods.

“They glittered the man’s lawn.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Leo asks, also standing to leave.

“They dumped pounds of glitter on his lawn, covered it in dish soap, and, according to Ava, got caught halfway through forking it.”

“Awesome,” Reed says, and Jaime glares at him.

“Not awesome. Now she’s being charged with vandalism, stalking, and harassment.” He pauses. “And littering. I’ll see you guys later.”

“I’m coming,” I say, the decision fully made as soon as he mentioned Harper’s name.

“Why?”

“Because this will be entertaining. And you never know when a famous face can help you out.”

Jaime opens his mouth to argue but looks at me, then at the clock, and shakes his head.

“Whatever. I don’t have time to argue with you about this,” he says, then heads out the door, me on his tail.