Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (12 page)

Sophia and I stare hard at the screen as the doctor stops every few seconds, pressing this button or using that funky mouse on the keyboard.

“This right here, that’s the fetus’s heart. See that?” He lifts his finger from the board and points to this little dark spot on the screen.

My stomach plummets and all air has completely abandoned my body at this moment.

“Oh my God...”
Sophia whispers, her lip trembling as we check out this little dark blob we made together on a ten inch screen.

How is it even fucking possible to feel so much for something that is barely there yet? I don’t know how to explain it, but this moment right here, right now, has to be the best fucking moment I have ever had in my entire life.

“Everything looks fine from what I see. By the measurements I would estimate that you’re probably around the seventh or eighth week, but the blood work will be more of a determining factor.”

He gently pulls away from Sophia. Standing, he walks back into the bathroom, removing his gloves. Sophia grabs the blanket and hurries to cover her waist with it.

“Whoa.” She lets out in a breath. “That was unbelievable.”

Taking her chin in my left hand, I kiss her lips slowly, savoring the tremble of her plump lips against mine. She presses her hand against my chest.

“T-Tristan! The doctor is still here,” she whispers nervously, pointing with her finger over to the door.

“Babe, I wasn’t gonna fuck you with him still here.”

Her eyebrows rise at my words.

“Shh!” she says, her lips kissing her index finger.

She’s embarrassed. Throwing my head back, I laugh hard at her. Sophia uses the back of her hand to lightly swat at my chest.

“What?”

My laugh fades, but she just smirks at me.

Doctor Baraick comes back into the room, picking up the papers from the desk over by the window and handing them to Sophia.

“I’m just going to step outside while you get dressed. If you wouldn’t mind taking the time to fill these out, I will do the blood work and after that, you should be good to go until you make your obstetrics appointment next week.”

“All right.”

Sophia’s voice is quiet as her eyes watch the doctor’s back, as he loads up his things before leaving the room. Once the door closes, Sophia lets out a breath and scurries out of the bed, giving me a perfect view of that round, tanned ass of hers.
Fuck.

Running my hand down my face, I groan when I see her bend over to slip on her panties. When she bends down again to slip her leg into her jeans, she glances over her shoulder.

“You love it?” she teases me.

“Goddamn right, I fucking love it.”

I fucking hate it when I can’t slide into it, though.
As soon as Baraick leaves, I’m going to fuck her. I watch my girl put herself together, throwing her hair up into a quick ponytail. I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am that this woman is mine and having my kid. Every fucking inch of her is priceless. Spinning around on her heel, she buttons the top button of her jeans and shrugs.

“Well, what are you thinking?”

She rests her hands on her hips, her eyes searching my face. Swallowing hard, I choke out.

“You…” 

Chapter Twelve

Sophia

The way Tristan was staring at me had every cell in my body pulsating and liquid heat rushing to the depths of my core. Everything after that was a lustful haze. I never did do the blood work. I’m sure after a while, Doctor Baraick got the hint and just left. Tristan wasn’t discreet about anything. Just remembering the way his groans echoed over my skin... Shit. I’m sure I wasn’t either.

I fell into what seemed like a deep sleep afterwards. It was so fucking nice to be able to crash on a real bed rather than what I’ve been having to use on the bus.

Now I’m backstage waiting on my Frankie to show, slowly chewing on a cheeseburger Tristan had ordered for me before we left the suite. Honestly, it’s kind of churning my stomach a bit, but I know I need some kind of fucking energy for the show and even though I crashed for like five hours, I’m still exhausted.

“Hello, hello!” Frankie’s voice chirps as he props the door open with his hip, a large bag hanging off his shoulder.

Giving his hair a quick tousle, he traipses right in.

“How you feeling, girl?”

I shrug, dropping the half eaten burger into my lap.

“Ah, you know… like shit.”

Unzipping his bag on the counter, his eyes scan over to mine from the side as he smirks at me.

“That’s nice,” he says with a lisp.

Laughing at him, I run my fingers through my hair.

“So, did you find out anything?” he asks as he starts laying out all his makeup supplies in front of him, giving each piece a quick but careful check.

I nod my head yeah at him, running my tongue over my lips. He stops what he’s doing and turns to me, giving me his full attention.

“Well?”

He crosses his arms, nodding his chin for me to go on, his eyes sparkling. I take my time answering him.

“Well…”

“Damn, girl. Get to it. I can’t take it. Is everything fine with the baby? Could he tell?”

Frankie’s words come rushing out. Smiling at my friend, I stand up.

“Yes, Frankie. Don’t worry. From what he could tell, everything is fine.”

I rub my hand up and down Frankie’s arm real quick, reassuring him. Stepping back, I slide my hands into my back pockets and continue.

“We heard the heartbeat.”

“Ohmygod.”

“Yeah. It was…”

I pause for a moment, watching Frankie’s eyes begin to water. Oh, come on. I would normally tell him to suck it up or give him my shoulder, but now, if he starts, then I’m going to start. Blowing out a long breath, I move my eyes away from Frankie’s for a second, staring at pointless objects on the counter.

“He said he thinks seven or eight weeks.”

“Really?”
Frankie squeaks.

My eyes dart back to my friend as he covers his mouth with his hand, his bracelets dangling from his wrist.

“I’ll know more next week when we’re on break before Europe,” I let him know before taking a seat again.

Frankie removes his hand from his mouth and inhales deeply, fanning his eyes with it.

“Don’t want to ruin my makeup.”

Aw my.

“Oh, Frankie. Come here.”

I stretch my arms up to him and he bends over the chair. I pull him into a hug. I don’t know why, but I need a hug from my friend right now. Frankie circles his long arms around my shoulders and lifts me up.

“Damn you,” he hiccups softly in my ear. “Now I’m going to have to redo my makeup.”

He chuckles as he sniffles. Holding my body out at arm’s length, Frankie’s eyes study my face. Trails of mascara running down his cheeks, he shakes his head.

I swipe away his tears.

“You’re the best,” I say to him softly.

“I know.”

He grins back at me teasingly, and just like that, the little moment we had is over.

Frankie gets back the pep in his step and begins bouncing to the beat of whatever band is on stage right now. Tonight, we’re playing at someplace called The Rav. It’s a smaller venue than what we usually play on this tour, but I love this. We only get a couple here and there.

I’m really digging this place. It kind of has this Victorian Goth vibe going on; dark and kind of dirty, but in the way that I love. Smaller shows like these are so cool. I like how it feels more intimate, as if you’re just jamming at a party or something.

Frankie spins the chair toward him and begins to prep my skin, working his lip between his teeth as he concentrates.

“You know, there’s a gym at the place we’re staying tonight. Maybe before we leave, we should check it out. I mean... I don’t think you had much of a chance since the last show to stay up on your fitness routine.”

Shaking my head lightly at him, I giggle.

“Frankie, I’m pretty sure that I have exceeded my daily fitness requirement today.”

Frankie gasps, then tsks me.

“I bet you did.”

I roll my eyes at him. He starts dabbing my skin again and goes on.

“I’m sure with Tristan staying on your bus now, it’s been nothing but a non-stop fuck-a-thon.”

“Jesus, Frankie.”

I push against his shoulder; he pulls away from me slightly, giggling himself.

“What?” He shrugs. “It’s the truth.”

Yeah, it is. Shivers run through me at the thought of Tristan’s hands and mouth all over me. Fuck. Frankie goes on getting me “beautimous” as he would say. We make small talk here and there for a while about the tour and who his newest eye candy is.

When Frankie is done with me, I check myself out. He has me in black shorts with the shredded black tights and unlaced black boots that go up to mid-calf. I’ve got my smoky eye going on.

This seems to be my usual thing, only now I’m wearing a different black corset. Frankie must have altered an old one because I have already felt certain pieces that were fitted for me at the beginning starting to get snug now.

Sliding my index finger inside the top, I try to loosen it off my chest some. My boobs still fucking hurt, but at least wearing something like this shouldn’t get Tristan as pissed as he was when I wore a t-shirt with no bra. I smile remembering the dangerous look that was on his face. I love getting him all riled up like that.

“Thanks, Frankie!” I yell over my shoulder. “You go girl!” he shouts back, laughing.

My guys are right outside. I figure I'd better check on them. Laughter booms from a room that’s a little ways down the darkly lit hallway. The door is open about an inch. Pressing my finger on it, I poke it open.

“Hey, boys,” I smile at them.

They stop for a moment and look up at me, grinning back.

“Fucking Sophia…”

Roger throws his head back and laughs. Yep, he’s buzzed already. Sitting next to him is Jeff, who is sipping a beer. I shut the door behind me, noticing Matt standing in the corner, but Jared is nowhere.

“Where’s Jared?”

“He had to take a piss,” Matt says off in the corner, smoking a joint by himself.

“Little bitch better hurry up. We’re going on in a few.”

Roger’s laughter quiets down as he brings his red solo cup up to his mouth. Taking a seat across from Jeff, I lean back on the chair, looking down and pretending to pick at my nails. Matt comes up from behind me, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

“Do you need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

I look up and over at him as he walks around in front of me then takes a seat on the other side of Roger.

“Ahem…”

Roger coughs into his hand then rubs it on his thigh. Leaning over his knees now, he pulls off his sunglasses and locks eyes with me.

“Do we need to do... Shit, I don’t know.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “Never mind, I don’t know what I was going to say.”

Giving him a half smile, I fold my arms over my chest.

“What, Roger?” I ask him calmly.

He looks back up at me and grins.

“Sophie, I don’t really know what to fucking do here, you know?” He shrugs again. “I mean, should you be taking it easy or some shit right now?”

Chuckling at him, I look at the other guys just staring at me like I’m some kind of foreign animal or something.

“I’m fine, Roger. It’s still me, and I feel fine. I’m pregnant, not sick.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He nods his head more vigorously and takes another drink.

“You guys wanna know something about me?” Jeff’s voice speaks up, killing the kind of awkward silence that was going on. 

“Not really,” Matt jokes.

Jeff smiles to himself and finishes the rest of his beer. When he’s done with the last drink, he sets it down on the table in front of him, cracking his knuckles as he sits back. He lets out a low chuckle.

“Well, I don’t really care.” Picking at invisible lint on his pants, he shrugs again. “Jeff’s not my real name.”

Huh?

“What, is that your stage name or something?” Roger asks.

Jeff cackles to himself, scratching the back of his arm.

“Nope. No stage name. It’s my middle name, actually. When I was auditioning for this band, I didn’t want to use my name, and honestly I was too stoned at the time to think of some fucking cool stage name to use, so…” he looks around at all of us, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “I just used my middle name instead.”

“Don’t fucking stop there, dude.” Roger nudges him. “What the hell is your name, then?”

Jeff throws his head back and laughs. This has me intrigued. Sitting up straighter in my seat, I wait for Jeff to finish.

“It’s fucking Theodore!” he groans.

Matt and Roger are silent for a second, looking back and forth at one another before they bust out laughing.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jeff flicks the cap to his beer across the room. Trying to hold in my smile, I give myself a few seconds for the guys to calm down.

“That’s a sweet name, actually,” I assure him.

Jeff, or I mean, Theodore, rolls his eyes at me.

“No, for real. That’s like Bill and Ted style,” I say, giving him a cheesy grin.

“My friends back home call me Ted.”

“See!” I throw my arms up. “You should’ve just put down Ted.”

“Fucking Theodore,” Roger laughs. “Reminds me of those chipmunks.”

Jeff laughs it off, scratching the small hair under his chin.

“Roger is no fucking better, man.”

“That’s a man’s name, dude.”

“More like a janitor’s name,” Jeff says under his breath.

Matt smirks at me before walking over to the door. It’s almost time to go on. Hey, that reminds me.

“Fuck, where’s Jared?”

I get up, following Matt over to the door.

“I’ll go see if I can find him,” he says.

He opens the door and takes a left. Roger’s still laughing, probably because he’s more buzzed than anything. Jeff’s name isn’t
that
funny. Cool to know, too.

“Let’s go.” I wave my boys to follow. “Once Matt finds Jared, they’ll probably just head straight for the set.”

“Fucking right!”

Roger always gets so pumped before each show. I love it. I haven’t run into Tristan yet and he usually comes in and sees how things are going before I go on. I pause for a minute and scan the roadies and venue staff scurrying around us. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen anyone from Undead. They’re probably all chilling in their own rooms tonight.

My stomach tenses up for a moment when I realize Tristan is probably having the “talk” with them right now. Shit. I know, I know. It’s already coming out in our small circle, but still… it’s a little crazy wondering what they might think.

Around the corner from the stage, Matt and Jared are waiting off the side.

“He was taking pictures of the place,” Matt says, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Taking fucking pictures… really?”

Roger quirks his eyebrow up at Jared. Jared runs his hand over the top of his head, pushing his hair to the side.

“I like to have mementos, okay? To remember this shit,” he shrugs.

“Well isn’t that all fucking nice and shit,” Roger coos at him before bellowing with laughter again.

“All right, all right.”

I motion with my hand to settle Roger down. We’re about to go on and I don’t need our introduction to be Roger and Jared rolling around, trying to land fists into each other. Yes, they sometimes still do that.

Looking down at my ridiculous chest, I try to move the snug corset over me just a tad. It has soft boning in it so it’s not like it’s putting pressure on my belly or anything, but my boobs are another story. I hope it’s not like this for the whole pregnancy, because that would suck. I would rather feel hung over every day than have my breasts feel this fucking tender.

“Guys, you’re up. Sophia, you got a few?”