Chapter 5
FIVE
“Great,” I muttered sarcastically as Corrine navigated around the sea of cars parked in Garrett’s drive.
“Looks like we’re overdressed.”
That was putting it lightly. From what I could see of the party spilling out of the house, the attire for the evening was nonexistent dresses and hooker heels, despite the chilly temperatures outside. It was October, for Christ’s sake.
I told myself as I was getting ready for this evening that I didn’t care what Garrett thought of how I dressed, that I wasn’t trying to impress him.
Unfortunately, that just wasn’t the case.
No matter the past or the disdain I carried for him, he was still an insanely good-looking man, and the woman inside of me couldn’t help but want to appear attractive.
I’d worn my favorite pair of skinny jeans, the ones that made my ass look amazing, and a soft lavender cowl-neck sweater that fit at the waist and hung off one shoulder. I’d been pleased with the results just a half hour before; I thought it looked hot without being obvious I was trying too hard.
Pregnancy had definitely changed my body.
I’d gone from a tiny girl with moderate-sized breasts to a woman with hips, ass, and boobs to spare.
My stomach wasn’t as flat as it once was, but the extra weight on my frame gave me a more womanly figure than what I’d had before.
I’d dressed to accentuate that figure, and when I walked out of my apartment on my tall black ankle boots, I’d felt really good about myself.
But compared to the women at the raging party, I looked like a prude virgin.
“Jesus, don’t these guys ever take a night off?” I murmured as Corrine found a spot and put the car in Park.
“Just ignore them,” Corrine replied as we both climbed out of the car. “We’ll be in and out before you know it.”
“What?” I asked teasingly, giving her a smile as we made our way up the stone walkway that led to the big house. “You mean you’re not gonna try and bang a member of your favorite band?”
She smirked and bumped my shoulder with hers. “Hell no. Besides, you know they aren’t my favorite anymore. You screw over my BFF and you lose a diehard fan.”
“Aw.” I put my hand on my chest. “It’s so sweet that you’d give up your lifelong dream of being nailed by a member of Civil Corruption all for me.”
“What are friends for?” She looped her arm over my shoulders as we made it to the front door. “Anyway, leaves me free to set my sights on other bands.”
“Dream big, Corrie,” I laughed.
“Always.”
The first person I noticed when we stepped inside the house was Ian, the band’s head of security.
He was probably the only person associated with Garrett and the other guys that I didn’t loathe with a passion, mainly because he hardly spoke a word.
His silence, coupled with his size and the fact that he looked like he could easily stomp a person into dust beneath his boot, made him one scary dude.
But he’d never been anything but polite to me.
And most importantly, he was always patient and kind to my baby girl whenever she was around.
“Hey, Ian. How’s it going?”
“It’s going well, Miss Carson. I believe you’ll find Mr. Wilder in the studio.” He must have read the uncertain look on my face correctly, because he kept talking. “Straight toward the back, the door marked Private to the left of the kitchen.”
“Thanks. Take it easy.”
“You as well, Miss Carson. And be sure to tell Lydia I said hello. I’m looking forward to seeing her now that the tour’s ended.”
I shot a playful smile over my shoulder. “Careful, Ian. You keep saying stuff like that and people will discover you’re just a big marshmallow under all that muscle.”
As expected, he didn’t say a word in response, but I did catch the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if he was trying to fight a grin.
We had to push through the swarm of people filling the house, and by the time we reached the door Ian had indicated, I was already itching to get the hell out of there.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said flatly. I didn’t bother knocking, just pushed the door open and started down the stairs.
I’d never been in Garrett’s private studio before, and I was immediately taken aback by the size and luxuriousness once I entered.
The long couch on the back wall and two matching recliners probably cost more than what I paid in rent for a year.
There was a huge soundboard to my right, across from the sitting area, that faced a glass wall overlooking an empty studio full of every musical instrument you could imagine.
The walls were covered in red and black, checkered soundproofing material.
My living room and bedroom could easily fit inside the space with room to spare.
I ignored the pang of jealousy that spiked in my gut and turned my attention to the people in the room.
All the guys were lounging around on the furniture.
Chris sat in the rolling chair at the soundboard, and I did what had become habit whenever we shared the same airspace—I greeted him with a middle finger, then pretended he didn’t exist.
And because she was never more than a few feet away from any of the band members at any given time, Kimber stood leaning against the side wall as Garrett and the rest of the guys sat back, relaxing and talked about God knew what.
The band’s lead guitarist, Mason Keller, was the next to see me, and quickly stood from his place on the couch, stumbling just slightly before righting himself.
Undoubtedly he was already three sheets to the wind.
Taking in the sight of his bleary, bloodshot eyes, I tried to recall a time in our very limited association that I hadn’t seen him drunk, but I couldn’t come up with anything.
I wouldn’t go so far as to call us friends, or even acquaintances, but in spite of being what I considered a functioning alcoholic, he’d always been relatively nice to me.
And the drunker he was, the nicer he became.
“Hey, baby mama! Great to see you!”
Yep. He was totally blitzed out of his mind.
My arms remained at my sides as he gave me a hug.
I held my breath as the stench of booze and pot smoke wafting off him assaulted my senses.
“Hey, Mace. Good to see you too,” I muttered once he released me and plopped back on the couch.
I got the standard chin tilt from the lead singer, Declan, and the band’s bass player, Killian Everett, and returned each.
It really was a shame that I held them all guilty by association, because all three of them were completely gorgeous.
Too bad they were friends with a raging hemorrhoid.
“Hello, Gwen,” Kimber sneered by way of greeting.
I turned my head and gave her a blank look. “Hi, Kimber. You’re looking well. That diet of small babies and the souls of innocents is really working for you.”
Mace covered his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter while Killian and Declan each lowered their smiling faces to the ground.
“Thanks,” she spit back. “How’s life as a low-class, white-trash coffee slinger treating you?”
Okay, so she was in the mood to play. I could definitely get down with that.
“It’s great. Thanks for asking. Oh, you know what?
I’ve been meaning to tell you, I really want to commend you on making something of yourself.
I mean, with a name like Kimber, it’s obvious your mom thought you’d never amount to anything more than a stripper who gave five-dollar blowjobs on the side.
Kudos to you for rising above the stigma.
She must be proud to know you only drop to your knees for men with money. ”
She gnashed her teeth like a feral dog and took a step in my direction. I stood ready, my hands inching to rip out chunks of her hair.
“You two play nice,” Garrett said, but I could hear the laughter in his voice.
Ever obedient to one of her four masters, Kimber stopped her advance.
She shot me one last murderous glare before pushing past Corrine and heading up the stairs.
I gave Chris a finger wave as he followed after her like a puppy.
It really was sad. I’d silently sat back over the years and observed the interaction between those two.
It was obvious that Chris was totally sprung for Kimber, but she was too busy gagging for any of the band members that she couldn’t see it. Both of them were pathetic.
With the two of them gone, I turned my attention back to Garrett.
His smile was surprisingly warm as those jade eyes of his scanned me from top to toe before moving back up and locking with my own gaze.
I watched with bewildered fascination as the green depths grew a hint darker after his perusal.
Something strange and unsettling pricked at my skin.
Normally when we saw or spoke to each other it was with the same warmth of a business transaction.
Having him look at me with something closely resembling fondness set me immediately on edge.
“She’s always such a barrel of fun,” Corrine deadpanned from behind me, drawing my attention and thankfully breaking whatever weird connection I’d just experienced with Garrett.
“Come on, troublemaker.” Mace got to his feet and moved to hook his arm through Corrie’s. Let’s let Mommy and Daddy talk in private.”
She shoved at his side and curled her lip at his unwelcome touch.
“I’m not—” she started to argue, but it was pointless.
Mace seemed undeterred at her brush-off and placed his palm at the small of her back, forcing her into motion.
Not only was he already leading her back up the stairs, but Killian and Declan were right behind them, blocking her path.