Allie stopped and turned to Cary. “Hey, you said you’re not touring next year, but would you consider one-offs or festivals?”
Cary shrugged. “Yeah, sure. If the timing’s right.”
“Good. Because you’re headlining Coachella.”
“Are you serious?” He hugged her. “Thanks, Allie!”
“Just doing my job, man.”
After saying hello to the WAG board of directors, Tyler and Cary stepped away from the crowd.
“Can you believe I’m already hungry?” she whispered.
“I’ve got you covered.” He flagged down a server carrying a tray of miniature cardboard boxes.
“I don’t feel like noodles,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “Nothing spicy.”
He handed her a box. “Open it.”
She peeked inside. “Truffle popcorn!” She popped a piece into her mouth. “How did you—?”
He shrugged. “I might know a guy.”
An hour later, Cary gathered the Robertsons, his parents, Allie, Kim, and Vegas in the WAG’s lecture room. The space, usually reserved for artist talks and media previews, now felt intimate, charged with anticipation. Tyler stood beside him at the front of the room, her fingers wrapped tightly around his. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she scanned the familiar faces—her dad, stoic as ever, Dylan cradling her baby bump, Joe with his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, looking more nervous than he probably felt.
Her mom should have been here. That thought flickered and faded before she let it settle too deep.
Allie and Kim stood shoulder to shoulder near the front row, while Vegas lingered by the door, ever the watchful presence.
“Thanks for coming,” Cary began, his voice steady but charged with emotion. “This is the best day of my life.”
Dylan’s eyes darted between them, suspicion brewing.
Cary grinned. “We’re having a baby.”
The room erupted in cheers.
“Get the fuck out!” Dylan pointed at her belly. “Our kids are going to be like siblings!”
“Yeah,” Tyler laughed. “It’s great timing.”
“The not drinking part gets easier,” Dylan said, walking toward her. “It’s good to give your liver a break. You know it’s your biggest organ.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow at Cary across the room. “Well . . . it’s noteveryone’sbiggest organ.”
Dylan snorted. “Really?” She turned to Cary. “Some guys have all the luck, don’t they?”
They burst into laughter.
Bert walked over. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Dad,” they said together.
“Liars.” He shook his head, chuckling, as Cary joined them.
“Thanks, son.” Bert clutched a red paisley handkerchief, dabbing his eyes. “Thanks for bringing my kid home.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Cary shook his hand. “I’ve got a favor to ask—”
