Untamed

Book 5: A Thoughtless Novel

by S.C. Stephens

Genres: Contemporary Romance; General Fiction; Women's Fiction

Synopsis

#1 New York Times bestselling author S. C. Stephens brings us the next book in her Thoughtless series.

The spotlight doesn’t only shine. Sometimes, it burns.

Being the bad-boy bassist for the world’s hottest band has earned Griffin Hancock some perks: a big house, a fast car, and most importantly his incredible wife, Anna. The one thing it hasn’t brought him is the spotlight. Anna tells him to be patient, that his talent will win out. But Griffin is through waiting for permission to shine.

Without warning, Griffin makes a shocking decision and takes the gamble of a lifetime. Suddenly he’s caught up in a new level of lights, cameras, and chaos—one that pushes his relationship with Anna to its limits. Anna has always found his unpredictable behavior sexy, but lately he’s seen an ache in her eyes, and it has his soul in knots. Just as the recognition Griffin seeks is finally within reach, the thing he loves most in life could be slipping through his fingers.

Release date: November 3, 2015

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 416

Sample

Chapter 1

I wasn’t one to brag, but I had a good life. Screw that. I was one to brag and I was going to do it as often and as loudly as I could, because I had the greatest fucking life in all the history of great lives. Not many people could boast like I could boast. Not many people were in the most successful band in the world. Just me. Oh, and my bandmates. I guess. Whatever.

And in thirteen days, eighteen hours, thirty-two minutes, I was going to be on the road again. The summer tour for the D-Bags’ second number-one album was coming up fast, and I was itching to get started. I’d waited in the background long enough, been playing an instrument that had been assigned to me long enough. This tour, everything was going to change. It was my time to play lead guitar, my moment to shine in the spotlight. I was going to rule that fucking stage, and no one was going to stop me.

When I first joined the D-Bags a few years ago, I had been under the completely logical assumption that once my overall awesomeness was known, I would replace my cousin as the lead guitarist; I’d even told the guys as much when we’d officially formed the band. And even though Matt had agreed with me, telling me, “Whatever you say, Griffin,” the band had yet to give me a shot at being the musical star. They’d shoved me in the bassist position and then left me there. I belonged front and center—lead guitarist was practically tattooed on my forehead! All the guys knew it, and whenever I brought up the fact that Matt and I should switch instruments, they blew off my request with ridiculous comments like, “Matt has more talent.” Whatever. My left nut had more talent than Matt; he wished he was as awesome as me. The guys were all just worried that they’d be forgotten if I was really given a chance to shine. Well, fuck that. I didn’t plan on staying in the shadows for long. Nobody put the Hulk in the corner. Nobody.

Thankfully, I had been blessed with panty-dropping good looks, a smoking physique, more sexual know-how than an A-list hooker, and more talent in my pinkie finger than most possessed in their entire bodies. I was a lucky son of a bitch too, and things had a way of working out for me. I guess I had good karma or some shit, because even bad situations ended up being fucktastic. Take my childhood. When my mom found out she was pregnant with me, we lived in Wichita. Yep. I was almost born in fucking Kansas. Kansas! But my dad lost his job and we had to move in with his brother, so I ended up being squeezed out in the Land of Spotlights—Los Angeles. Straight out of the womb, I’d been destined for greatness.

Even at a young age, being a rock star had appealed to me—I dressed up as Gene Simmons for six Halloweens in a row. I think it was the idea of millions of people screaming my name, crying when they saw me, idolizing me. The thought of being put on a pedestal was intoxicating. Who wouldn’t want that? Plus, what profession, outside of porn and prostitution, guaranteed you all the sex you could handle? None that I could think of.

But I supposed Matt was the real reason for my career choice. We’d lived together for the first eight years of our lives, then we’d lived on the same street, then we’d moved out together. Even though we drove each other crazy more often than not, we were almost always around each other. There was no one I liked making fun of more than Matt. And for as long as I could remember, Matt had been obsessed with music. Like, unhealthily obsessed. On-the-verge-of-needing-an-intervention obsessed.

When we were preteens, he used to say shit like, “Music is life,” and “Everything else is just background noise.” I think crap like that was why Matt had been a virgin until he was nineteen. And a half. He’d devoted his entire young life to music, but what he’d failed to realize was that music was just a means to an end. From the beginning of time, music was only designed to do one thing—get people laid. Sex was life… literally… and everything else was just background noise. After Matt’s first time, I think he started to understand that fact. He’d certainly eased off on the “Music fuels the world” comments.

Unlike me, Matt hadn’t really planned on being a rock star though. He’d thought it was a pipe dream, but I’d known it was inevitable. All we had to do was wait for the right moment. Wait for fate to find us. And it had.

After high school, I’d kept my options open. It used to drive my parents crazy that I hadn’t done anything productive after I graduated—by the skin of my teeth. I’d sort of ambled around for a couple of years like a lost degenerate. That’s what my sister said anyway, but I’d known what I was doing. Timing was everything, and I couldn’t take the risk of being stuck at some lame-ass job when fate came knocking on my door. It wasn’t laziness, it was preparedness. I needed to be free, to be one with the winds of change, or some poetic shit like that. I had to be ready. And it was a good thing I was too, because if I’d had commitments I couldn’t get out of, Matt and I never would have been able to form a band with Kellan and Evan.

We met them at a strip club. It wasn’t often that I could get my cousin to go out for a little bump and grind with me, but after a few shots at the bar, I could have talked Matt into anything. Fucking lightweight. Matt, as always, was completely uncomfortable being around mostly naked girls. Because I cared about his personal growth, and because it was hilarious to watch him turn bright red, I did what I could to help him with the girls. We were kicked out of the club twenty minutes later. It wasn’t my fault though. I mean, how was I supposed to know that bringing a pogo stick up on stage was frowned upon? In my humble opinion, I thought I was improving the show.

Evan and Kellan had been at the club that night and had found us in the parking lot after we were rudely evicted. As usual, Matt was whining when they’d approached us—something about how much of an idiot I was. I don’t know, I hadn’t really been listening. But after introductions, the conversation had shifted to music, and Matt had finally been in seventh heaven. He was happier discussing music styles with a bunch of dudes than he had been watching silicone jugs jiggling up and down in front of our faces. I’d suspected it for years but had known without a doubt in that moment that Matt was completely out of his mind and would never be right in the head.

The two of us had signed on with Kellan and Evan and—boom!—the D-Bags were born. And I discovered that, as I’d predicted, music was a surefire path to sex. And, oh my God… there was so much sex to be had! Backstage sex. Parking lot sex. Wall sex. Bathroom sex. Whips and chains sex. Cosplay sex. One-night stands. Threesomes. Orgies. And a partridge in a pear tree.

It was a never-ending smorgasbord of carnal delight. All I had to say was, “I’m in a band,” and whatever chick I was talking to was instantly intrigued. It was so easy it was almost too easy. No, not really. It was fucking amazing and I loved every second of it.

The only thing that put a slight damper on the awesomeness of my life was my inferior position in the band. The guys had no idea what a gift they had in me, and even though I told them repeatedly that I deserved a shot on lead guitar, time and time again, they kept holding me back. That was my only real complaint about being in the band. Oh, that and fucking Kellan routinely stealing my pussy! Even when I called dibs! Before he went and got all “domesticated,” that used to really piss me off. And then, to make things even worse, the fucking thief wouldn’t even share sex stories. If you’re gonna swipe my slit, asshole, at least have the common courtesy to share the deets!

But no, Kellan would get all weird and tight-lipped. Almost embarrassed. Didn’t make sense to me at the time. Still didn’t—I sang that shit from the rooftops! But, then again, I was amazing in bed. I was such a good lay, even I wanted to sleep with me. Kellan probably sucked at it. He only got the chicks because he had the “lead singer” badge. The girls probably cried afterward it was so horrible. Yeah, that made sense. Poor pathetic asshole. Maybe I should cut him some slack? Nah. It was his obligation as the front man to be good at sex. If he couldn’t hack it, I’d gladly replace him. I could sing and thrust my hips. Easy as nailing an unsatisfied wife after Mother’s Day. Yeah… I could totally do it. Fuck being lead guitarist. I could be lead everything.

I pictured myself standing in the center of the stage, the fans hollering, jumping up and down, flashing their tits as they screamed my name. Kellan shrank into the background, smaller and smaller, until finally the darkness at the back of the stage swallowed him whole. I could only see shadowy, fingerlike shapes lightly flicking the bass line strings. He was messing up the song, but I let it go… because I was awesome like that. I’d talk to him about it later though, maybe give him extra rehearsals. Ha!

It was hot under the center lights, but I loved it. The heat was like a lover’s fingers over my bare skin. If only I were naked, so I could feel the warm vibrations everywhere. The crowd would go crazy for that. They were already clambering to get to me; security was having a hell of a time keeping them back. By the looks on their faces, I knew that if they did make it up on stage, they would tear me to pieces. Being mauled to death with love, lust, and desire… not a bad way to go.

They started chanting my name, over and over. “Griffin! Griffin! Griffin!” I held up my hand to appease them…

“Griffin… do you have a question?”

My vision of writhing fans evaporated as a pair of emerald-green eyes came into focus. Anna. My gorgeous, sensual goddess of a wife. “No… I wasn’t listening. Can you start over?” The full lips below the penetrating eyes frowned, but I knew she wasn’t really all that upset. My mind often wandered; she was used to it.

It still surprised me some that I had taken the plunge, cut myself off from the pack, picked just one type of cereal to eat. Forever. But when the cereal in question was chocolate-coated chocolate flakes dipped in fudge and covered with chocolate sprinkles, it really wasn’t that much of a sacrifice.

Anna and I had met several years ago, before the D-Bags were big. She’d thought I was the shit, even back then, when the pool I’d been floating in wasn’t all that deep. I dug her even more for that. I’d dug her, but that hadn’t stopped me from banging babes after we hooked up. Not even after we’d repeatedly hooked up. Her either. Anna and I’d had a whenever-works-for-you-works-for-me relationship, and I had continued reveling in eager-to-please groupies for a long time. But then, somehow—and I’m still not sure how—everything had started to change. After being with Anna, every other girl had left me wanting. The two of us together were explosive. No, mind-blowing. No… life-altering. I supposed that was why no one else could compare. Anna just got me, and fully satisfied me like nobody else.

Other girls… well, it was like drinking from the ocean with them. Sure, the momentary ache was gone, but I felt worse afterward. Thirstier. I’d just wanted Anna, all the fucking time, and nobody else would do. Admitting I was whipped was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever done, but denying it was getting me nowhere. Anna was enough for me. No, she was it for me. So I fucking married her before anybody else could.

Anna sighed, making her lips part in such an erotic way that I almost got distracted with another vision. God, her mouth on me right now would be fantastic. I wonder if what she has to say could be said naked? I didn’t see why not. She was already halfway there. I was sitting on a large, rectangular ottoman in our walk-in closet while she picked out something to wear for the day. All she’d picked out so far was a black bra with matching black underwear, and even though they were stretchy, supportive maternity underwear, they were hot. I wanted them in my teeth.

“The tour… I decided to come with you. Gibson and I both. Plus Newbie. We’re all three coming with you.” She placed her hands on the sides of her stomach, outlining the shape of the baby in her belly. Our second kid. According to the doctors, it was another girl, but since those fuckers had told us Gibson was a boy right up until the day she was born, we weren’t holding our breath on this one. We’d know what the baby was when Anna popped him/her out.

I shrugged. “Okay, sounds awesome.” Made no difference to me. In fact, it would make my life a little easier if she did come. I wouldn’t have to jack off so much. Although I might have to right now if she bent over again. Sweet Jesus, my wife is a fucking masterpiece.

Anna turned back to the rod holding hundreds of outfits. I swear she had more clothes than most department stores. This wasn’t even our only closet. There was one off the master bathroom too, and another one in an unused guest room that she used. It was almost ridiculous, but she looked so fucking good in everything she owned, I never complained about it. Even still, as good as she looked all decked out, she looked even better naked.

She already had her shoes picked out for the day; she was holding them in her hand while she flipped through her fashion choices. They were black high heels that would make her legs look a mile long. I was getting hard just thinking of her wearing them. Why the hell hadn’t she put them on yet? She was teasing me…

Twisting her head to me, her long brown hair seductively curling around her shoulder, she said, “Kiera and Ryder are going too, so Gibson will have someone to play with… not that Ryder does much yet. He’s only nine months old. Still, at least she’ll have someone to keep her entertained besides us, you know?”

I nodded so she would think I was paying attention, but I really wasn’t. She’d mentioned Kellan’s kid and his super-rigid wife, but that was about all I got. I was too busy picturing what Anna’s ass would look like when she put those shoes on. Uncomfortable things were starting to rub together, and I adjusted how I was sitting while she continued.

“There are two buses for the bands, plus Kellan and Kiera’s private bus. Matt is sharing a bus with Avoiding Redemption, but I think Evan is riding with Holeshot and that new band… Staring at the Wall. Kiera said we could stay on her bus if we want, instead of riding with the rest of the guys.” She looked back at me with a smirk on her lips. “Well, actually, what she said was Gibson and I could ride with her and Kellan… and if you had to, you could ride with us… for a leg or two. So long as they were short legs.”

That got my attention, and I glanced up from her outstanding ass to look at her amused face. “Fuck that. I’m riding you the entire time. Fuck whoever tries to get me off you.” She raised an eyebrow in question and I automatically shook my head. “You heard me right. I’m riding you.” I waggled my eyebrows to make it even more suggestive, in case she’d missed it. She hadn’t though. My wife had a mind nearly as dirty as mine.

Anna shrugged as she refocused her attention on her clothes. Pulling out a sunshine-yellow dress, she said, “Kiera will be thrilled… but I’d rather ride you too, so she’ll just have to deal.”

Twisting around, she placed the dress against her body like she was modeling it for me. I tilted my head, like I was really deciding if I liked it. I wasn’t. Anything she wore was awesome, so I didn’t care what it was. I had another, far more interesting reason to act like I cared though, one that could pay off big for me. Before she even asked my opinion on the dress, I gave her one. “I’m not sure… I need to see the shoes first.”

She set the shoes down and started to slip the dress on but I stopped her. “No, no… just the shoes.” I kept my voice intentionally low and husky. Anna lifted her eyes to mine, and a playful lust flickered to life in her eyes. With a sexuality that rivaled only my own, she removed the dress and slipped on her heels. She struck a swimsuit-model pose when she was done and my cock stiffened to full readiness.

Goddamn, she was so hot. Even eighty million months pregnant, she was the sexiest thing around. I wanted her to rip her underwear off and straddle me. She could leave the shoes on. Fuck yeah.

“I want you to strip and ride my cock,” I bluntly told her. “But leave the heels,” I added. One of the greatest things about being in a relationship with Anna was the fact that I didn’t have to sugarcoat anything. If I wanted her to suck me off, all I had to do was ask. She might not do it, if she wasn’t in the mood, but she never freaked out about me asking her shit like that. Even if we were in the checkout line at Walmart, she was cool about it.

With an intrigued half smile on her lips, she sauntered toward me. She played with a long dark curl while she walked, and the throbbing in my pants got so bad, I had to give myself a good rub to make it simmer down.

“We’re late, baby,” she murmured, as she stepped in front of me.

“Fuck if I care,” I said, leaning back onto my elbows on the ottoman. Yes, do it. I want you.

Leaning over me, she placed her hands on my thighs to support herself, giving me an outstanding view of her cleavage. I bet the view of her backside right now was equally spectacular. Fuck. Why the hell weren’t there any mirrors in here? I needed to rectify that immediately.

“Matt will have your head if you’re late to rehearsal again,” she said. Then she licked her bottom lip and bit it. The soft skin shone in the lights, calling to me. I needed those lips on me. Everywhere.

“I don’t give a shit about what Matt does to my head. You, on the other hand…” I thrust my hips up a little, just in case she’d missed that innuendo too. Again, she hadn’t. My girl was a hell of a lot smarter than me.

With a smile that even Angelina Jolie would be jealous of, Anna started lowering her head. My eyes widened as her lips approached my zipper. She placed a soft kiss on the ridge of my cock straining against my jeans. She might as well have touched me with a cattle prod. The jolt sent a delicious sizzle throughout my body, and I felt a faint wetness coat the tip of my dick. I was so ready for her. I was about to start begging if she didn’t do more than just kiss me. No, not about to beg. I would beg; I was man enough.

“Please, baby. I want that gorgeous mouth over me, tracing me, teasing me. Then I want that beautiful body on top of me, so I can slide inside you. I want to feel your wet pussy tighten all around me, while we start to move…” I lifted my hand over my lap, then made a rocking motion, like I was holding on to her hips, guiding her, moving her faster and faster…“Oh yeah, just like that, baby.”

I was doing such a good job of mimicking the movement that I could almost feel the buildup starting. Damn, could I come without even touching her? Maybe, but that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.

Anna let out a throaty chuckle as her hands slid up to my zipper. “You say the hottest things, Griffin,” she said in a low voice. I stilled my hips as her fingers pulled back the metal holding my beast in place. Damn thing was about to destroy the town if she didn’t tame it soon.

Once I was free, I lay back on the ottoman and let my head hit the cushion. I was growing out my chin-length hair, and I’d put it into a low ponytail. That was pretty uncomfortable to lie on, so I yanked the band out while Anna adjusted my underwear and released me. I hissed in a breath as her fingers touched the throbbing, sensitive skin. “Fuck, yeah…”

I closed my eyes so the haphazard pile of clothes scattered around the room wouldn’t distract me. With my sight out of the picture, my other senses sharpened. I could feel the cooler air on my cock, feel Anna’s fingernails lightly scratching my abdomen, and hear the mixture of my light groans and Anna’s seductive purrs. “Ready, baby?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I groaned, reaching down to grab her hair. Now…

A jolt went through me when her tongue touched my cock, then a groan escaped me. “Fuck, that feels so good…” She lightly ran up the shaft, then flicked the piercing at the top. I groaned again. I wanted this so bad, all of my senses were amplified. The tiniest touch felt like a lightning strike of sensation. “More… please…”

And that was when my heightened senses heard something terrible. Awful. Ill-timed.

In the next room, a baby monitor was resting on Anna’s nightstand. It had been on this entire time, but I hadn’t been paying attention to it. Anna either. But now, it was sort of impossible to ignore. A high-pitched, metallic-sounding squeal was blaring from it. “Mommmmmmmmmmmmma! Want out!”

The sound of Gibson’s voice put Anna instantly on parental alert. I looked at her right as she looked at me, and I knew the raging cock between us had been all but forgotten. “Gibby’s up from her nap. I gotta get her.”

Sitting up, I grabbed her hand as she straightened. Bringing her fingers to my protesting member, I pleaded, “Five minutes won’t hurt her.”

Anna giggled but pulled away. “Sorry, babe. I don’t like leaving her up there. And besides, she’ll scream the entire time, and you know that will throw you off.”

I pursed my lips, wanting to argue with her but knowing I couldn’t. There were times when just hearing Gibson cooing through the monitor made it impossible for me to come. I had to shut the damn thing off, and Anna hated it when I did that. And she was right anyway. Gibson had a set of lungs on her, and if we didn’t come set her free from her bedroom prison, she’d just get louder and louder; turning off the monitor wouldn’t make a lick of difference.

I fell back on the ottoman, and my forgotten love stick started drooping. Such a waste of a perfectly good erection. “Fine.” I’d just been cock-blocked by my own daughter. What. The. Hell.

Anna slipped on the lemon-colored dress; it clung to her curves, making my cock reconsider rising. Gibson screamed again though, and it plummeted back to earth. Once she was dressed, Anna gave my cheek a quick kiss. “You should get dressed. We’ve gotta go.”

I raised my hand in a gesture of irritation and agreement. Whatever. It was all downhill from here. Anna watched me for a second, then leaned down and placed her lips against my ear. “As soon as Gibson goes down for the night, we’ll come back here and I’ll finish what I started.” She licked the inside of my ear and a huge smile broke over my lips. Today was the best day ever.

Once Anna was gone, I rubbed my forlorn semi. “Sorry, Hulkster. Gotta put you away for later.”

Peeking down at myself, I could have sworn I heard my dick answer me. But you promised I’d get to play! Frowning, I tucked myself back into my pants. “I’m not stupid enough to make promises. To anybody. Or anything,” I amended, since I was talking to my junk. That was something I’d learned early on. If you never swore your life to anything, you couldn’t get bitten in the ass by it later. It was human nature to go back on your word; that was why I never gave it.

Even my wedding vows had had all the pertinent pledges removed. Anna and I had tied the knot in some city hall back East… somewhere. I don’t remember where. Our ceremony had been just us and the judge, and it had been about as simple as it could be. Basically, it had gone something like this—Anna, do you take this douche to be your husband? Yeah, I do. Griffin, do you take this knockout to be your wife? Sure, why not. And that was all the promise we’d given each other. It was all that was needed.

When Anna came back into the room, I was my usual self—just a half chub was trying to poke through my jeans. But even that faded when I saw the little miracle in my wife’s arms. “Daddy!” Gibson tossed her hands my way and leaned so hard in my direction that Anna had to struggle to hold on to her. Gibson’s little face scrunched with annoyed concentration while she fought against her mom. Then, with a pout that only a little kid could make adorable, she turned and scowled at Anna. “Want Daddy.” She said it as a command, not a request. Gibson was only around a year and a half, but she already knew what she wanted, and she fully expected to get her way. She was so much like me, it was scary.

Anna rolled her eyes but stepped closer so Gibson could reach me. When her little hands touched my skin, they suddenly became razor-like talons. Like an eagle securing a fish from the sea, Gibson clamped onto my forearm with a surprising amount of freakish strength. “Ow, shit! Relax, Gibs. I’m right here.”

Grunting, I pulled her into my side and examined what was left of my arm. I half expected to see a mutilated flap of skin hanging off the bone. Instead, all I saw were bright red streaks where she’d raked me. Anna winced. “Guess I need to cut her nails. Sorry.”

I shrugged. “The day isn’t truly awesome until a gorgeous girl has scratched me up. I wear my war wounds with pride.” Looking at the design she’d left behind, I added, “I might actually get this one tattooed on me. How cool would permanent shred marks be?”

Anna smiled, then shook her head. “No, if you want claw marks to tattoo, I’ll give you some good ones. Then every time you look at them, you can remember how you got them.”

“Damn… yeah, that’s a much better plan. Fuck, you have the best ideas.”

Gibson grabbed my nose and pulled my attention her way, where she liked it. Girl had a jealous streak a mile wide. Looking at her was like looking at a miniature version of me, if I were a girl. She had the same light blue eyes, same blond hair, although hers was a pristine platinum color while mine was a little dirtier. As it should be. She gave me a smile full of shiny white teeth, then spouted, “Fuck.”

Anna crossed her arms over her chest, but her expression was more amused than annoyed. “I think we’re at the point where we need to start watching our language.”

I looked past Gibson to Anna. “Watch my language? You might as well ask me to hop on one foot while reciting the alphabet backwards. I can’t police myself like that twenty-four/seven. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Anna swished her hands at Gibson. “Well, she’s starting to copy you, and if we don’t put a stop to it now, she’s going to start calling people cocksuckers soon.”

I started laughing. “That… would be so awesome.”

Anna put her hands on her hips; true irritation was starting to edge out her amusement now. “No, it wouldn’t be.” She smiled. “Well, yeah, it kind of would be, but as parents, we have to put a stop to that kind of stuff.” She sighed. “Well, we should try anyway.”

Looking back at Gibson, I frowned. “I suppose I could try.” Even though I was sure she didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, Gibson laid her head on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around my neck, and patted my back like she was encouraging me. Yeah, if it would help Gibson, I would try to control my mouth. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for that little girl.

The three of us started heading toward the bedroom. Anna grabbed her purse off the bed; the covers were rumpled and falling off, but neither one of us had bothered to fix it. Why put it together if we were just going to mess it up again? That was my philosophy anyway, and Anna seemed to agree with it. We had a tendency to think alike, which really freaked me the fuck out.

As Anna slipped the strap of her mammoth bag onto her shoulder, she looked over at me. I’d shifted Gibson onto my back and I was bouncing her up and down… like a pogo stick. Mmmm, I loved pogo sticks.

“Before I forget, your dad called.” She frowned after she said it, and I wondered if Pops had done or said something to piss her off. It wouldn’t surprise me. Dad had no filter. Mom said it ran in the family. Whatever.

“Yeah? And what did that fucker want?”

Anna sighed, indicating Gibson with her hand. I scratched my head as I thought of a more kid-friendly way to put it. Minding my tongue was a pain in the ass. “Uh, what did that… feller… want?”

Anna laughed at my cheesy fill-in word, then frowned again. Rubbing her stomach, she said, “They want to come up for the birth. All of them. And they want to stay here.”

Well of course they did. My place was fucking fantastic, much nicer than the shitholes my family called home. Once the money from our second album had started pouring in, I’d done what anybody in my position would have done. I’d contacted a real estate agent and told her to find me the most expensive house in Seattle. Sadly, we hadn’t ended up buying that one, but the one Anna and I had settled on was definitely in the top ten. This place was outrageous, outlandish, and way too big for just three people, or four, or ten. I loved it.

I wasn’t the only D-Bag who had invested in real estate. Kellan and Kiera had a huge secluded place north of Seattle, in the middle of BFE, and Matt and Rachel had a swanky condo downtown, with an amazing view of the pier and the Ferris wheel. Both of those spreads had required a ton of dough, although neither was as pricey as my place. Evan was the only one who’d bought a modest home. He’d actually purchase