The band didn’t know where Liam was? That was odd, but that wasn’t my business either. “I’m sure Emmie knows where he is. Have you asked her?”

“She won’t tell me shit. Look, just ask your friend to call me the next time you talk to her. It’s important.” He thrust his hands into his jean pockets. “And tell her… I miss her.”

My mouth opened to blast him but Drake turned me around before a word could escape and kissed me until I couldn’t even remember my name. All I could hear, taste, feel was Drake. Damn, he knew how to shut me up. Not that I was going to complain.

Chapter 25

Drake

Angel’s taste was still lingering on my lips even as I walked into the producer’s office that evening for the meeting his assistant said we had to attend. That was the only thought on my mind as I closed the door behind me. I wasn’t happy that I had to cancel plans with Angel to stay over tonight, and I had let the woman know as soon as she had relayed the message from her boss.

For the next thirty minutes I sat with my father-in-law and friend listening to the monotone voice of the man who was supposedly our boss. Our contracts were all up at the end of this season and I was still undecided if I was going to sign another one. In the beginning this gig had been just an excuse to be in New York and closer to my angel. Then I had started to kind of like finding talented rockers and giving them a chance to make it in the rock world. I still enjoyed that part of the job, but I knew Angel was having trouble with some aspects of the whole thing.

Like the woman sitting in a chair beside me, her hands typing away on her iPad but her gaze was drilling into the side of my face. I still couldn’t remember her name most of the time, but knew it started with a B. Since Angel had convinced me that the chick was after me, I had started feeling more than a little creeped out by the way she looked at me. I felt like a pussy thinking that. A woman scaring me? Shane would have a field day with that joke.

“I’m going to need your answer by next week.” The producer—damn, what was his name again? Greg… George? Angel usually helped me with that shit. “I’ll have our lawyers meet with your people to negotiate your contract terms and any pay increases you suggest. This season’s ratings have been just as high if not higher than the first season and we want all three of you back for next season.”

Cole shook his head. “I won’t be back next year.” His answer didn’t surprise me. Cole was not happy with the producer. They had been arguing most of the season over everything from the taste of the coffee to how much camera time he was getting during the shows. Cole was fed up with the show and how the higher-ups kept dramatizing every little thing that went on during judge panels and behind the scenes to get the higher ratings. The show was starting to become a fucking soap opera.

“If this is about more money…”

“Money?” Cole grunted. “I got plenty of that. This is about you and your so called creative minds making the entire rock world look ridiculous. You have maybe one truly talented contestant competing this go round up there with a bunch of ignorant wanna-be rockers. You dress them in Goth and punk and play it off like they are the world’s next rock gods, while down-playing the real talent all because he’s not what you would call ‘ratings friendly’.”

“Kurtis Quinn is not the only talent we have this season,” the producer argued and Axton and I both grunted because there wasn’t any truth to that statement. The fat man narrowed his eyes. “He wouldn’t last five minutes in the rock world.”

“What the fuck would you know about the rock world?” Axton snapped. “Cole’s right, this thing has turned into a soap opera. I’m not sure I’m coming back next year either unless you make some changes around here. And if Quinn doesn’t win, I’m going to ask him to open for OtherWorld on tour in a few months.”

“What about you, Stevenson?”

I shrugged. “I don’t have an answer for you about next year, but I’m with these two about the way the show is going. I’m fed up with seeing all the drama on the cover of trash magazines. My wife isn’t happy with the way things are turning out here either and if she isn’t happy, I’m not happy.” I stood, more than ready to go home and not caring in the least if the meeting was over or not. “I’m out. See you fuckers tomorrow.”

“Night man,” Axton called after me.

“Later, boy.” I chuckled at Cole calling me boy and kept walking.

By the time I got home the house was quiet. There was a pizza box on the island in the kitchen when I walked in. Opening the lid I saw that Angel was having a crazy craving day. The smell was enough to turn my stomach: anchovies with pineapple, and ranch instead of tomato sauce? It wasn’t the nastiest craving she’d had so far but it was up there.

Upstairs I found the bathroom light still on with the door slightly ajar. It cast a soft glow over our king size bed, giving my angel a surreal quality that took my breath away. Her hair was spread over my pillow and looked as if it was still damp from her shower. She was wrapped around her body pillow that she had sprayed with my cologne the day she got it because it helped her sleep better smelling me all around her. The sheet had slipped down to her hips showing me that she must have been waiting up for me because she was gloriously naked.

My dick had gone hard as soon as I had opened the door. Grinning, I rushed through my shower and hurried back to the sleeping angel in my bed. As I climbed in behind her she sighed my name and pressed her back against me, her hips wiggling against my rock-hard cock in her sleep. I kissed her neck, licking at the sensitive spot just under her ear. She made a mewling sound and arched her neck to give me better access.

Reaching around her I rubbed my palm over her stomach and felt our daughter kick at me before traveling higher to find Angel’s nipples hard as diamonds. Fuck, I loved her tits. They had gotten super sensitive during the pregnancy and all I had to do was barely touch them to get her begging for more. My lips traveled down her shoulder and then down her back while I pinched the tips making her whimper with need.

Goose bumps popped up along her back as I trailed kisses lower, licking and nipping at her spine. When I got to her ass—fuck, that perfect ass!—I sucked on her hip until she was squirming, wanting me to suck on something completely different. Licking away the sting from the love bite I had just given her, I moved so that I could turn Angel on her back.