The way he sang the words was not pretty. Oh no, it was grit and ice and pain.
“Maybe now we’ve hit arsenic levels.” Irina squeezed Courtney into her. “Let’s go. Why don’t we hit up Mach and Tanner’s bus, since they have the best snacks?”
Courtney shook her head. “No.”
She wasn’t sure what she was saying no to. It didn’t really matter. The word just fit the moment.
“Maybe you heard I’m gonna be a papa!” Bax shouted into the mic. “Only a few months left.”
Courtney’s breath caught in her throat.
“Well, now he’s just making a mess for no reason.” Irina crossed her arms and stared laser beams at Bax.
He was too far in the zone to realize he’d pissed off the three women who had the power to pull the spark plugs on his bus.
“Wrote this for the munchkin,” he said, smirking at the crowd in that panty-dropping way of his.
That made the women scream louder.
He started the song. This one was sweet and not gritty. The lyrics that couples would play at their weddings for years to come. But not her.
He wrote the song for their baby.
Em got a song.
Baby got a song.
Courtney didn’t even get a bracelet. She didn’t get the rock star.
Somehow she had to figure out how to be okay with that.
Unfortunately for her, in the past ten minutes, she’d become certain that she’d have to do that part alone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bax
He fucking loved this gig.Couldn’t even fathom how a few months ago he’d considered walking away from it.
The rush. The joy. The pulsing energy of the crowd that enveloped him and the rest of the guys.
When he hopped off the stage, Hans was there. Like, right there. And he didn’t look thrilled.
“Fucking brilliant.” Bax gave Hans a light, friendly shove.
Hans was a brick wall to that playful nudge.
“What crawled up your ass?” Bax asked. Because there was nothing that would put a damper on this day. Nothing.
“Your little song?”
“Which one?” Because there were two, and the crowd loved them both. Ate them up. These could be the next Dimefront hits, and they’d have his name all over that byline.
“Your breakup song, specifically.” Hans shuffled Bax to the side while the other guys tromped off the stage next. Everyone gave back slaps on their way past.
The whole groove they’d carved for this concert translated into epic shit.
“They loved it.” Bax couldn’t have asked for more.
