Baby For My Best Friend's Ex, page 1
BABY FOR MY BEST FRIEND’S EX
CALLIE STEVENS
Copyright © 2023 by Callie Stevens
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
1. Samuel
2. Brooklyn
3. Samuel
4. Brooklyn
5. Samuel
6. Brooklyn
7. Samuel
8. Brooklyn
9. Samuel
10. Brooklyn
11. Samuel
12. Brooklyn
13. Samuel
14. Brooklyn
15. Samuel
16. Brooklyn
17. Samuel
18. Brooklyn
19. Samuel
20. Brooklyn
21. Samuel
22. Brooklyn
23. Samuel
24. Brooklyn
25. Samuel
26. Brooklyn
27. Samuel
28. Brooklyn
29. Samuel
30. Brooklyn
31. Samuel
Epilogue
Unexpected Baby For My Brother’s Best Friend(Preview)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
1
SAMUEL
I blink rapidly as the spotlights come on across the stage. It’s a full house tonight, and I have to admit I’m a little nervous. Unlike Axel and Jackson, I get a touch of stage fright. Even Locke, who’s a little quieter and more reserved, doesn’t seem to get nervous before we perform. I guess it’s because I’ve never been super comfortable in crowds, and ever since our first tour, Jack and the Spades has blown up.
Of course, I’m happy and excited, but that excitement has an edge of nervousness that lies heavy at the bottom of my stomach on our second to last performance of our second tour. I had thought that the D.C. concert was big, but the one near Dallas surpasses it completely. There are people standing wall to wall in the venue, a big concert hall instead of a dive bar this time. The bar is upstairs, too, and I’m a little disappointed I didn’t grab a beer like Axel and Locke did.
Jackson, as usual, is sticking to his ginger-ale, and I, for one, am proud of him. Ever since he met his wife, Zoe, who became our stylist, he’s been so much happier and healthier. All of the Spades are tied down now, and they couldn’t be happier about it… all, except me.
I sigh and adjust the strap of my bass guitar and the noise alerts Axel, who raises a dark blond eyebrow at me.
“You good, Sammy?” he asks, and I plaster on a smile and nod.
It’s not like I’m dying to settle down and get married since I’m only twenty-eight, but it kind of sucks that all my bandmates, who are more like brothers, all have a pretty girl cheering them on from the crowd and children waiting at home, and I don’t have anybody.
I’ve been so busy with the tours and helping Axel manage the social media that I haven’t had time for women, and even before, there were only a few flings in high school and several one-night stands after I joined the Spades. The Spades’ groupies are a wonderful bunch, don’t get me wrong, but at the same time, it feels hollow and empty when they’re gone when I wake up, disoriented from the travel and so many hotels.
Usually, I look out into the crowd and pick out one of the girls to sing to, because that’s just how I work. I may get around a little bit when it comes to women, but at the same time, I never juggle more than one at a time. I’m a one-woman man, just like my father. He and my mother have been married for thirty years and he’s never so much as looked at another woman. I guess deep down, that’s what I want. Someone special to come home to.
Gemma’s front and center, holding her ever present filthy martini, and Zoe’s right next to her, linking her arm through her best friend’s and making goo-goo eyes at Jackson. They’re the most recently married and they’re a little disgusting.
I roll my eyes at Jackson cooing and winking at Zoe, but I can’t help smiling.
Locke’s a little more reserved, just grinning at Gemma from behind his drum set. Harley’s backstage waiting for Axel because he’s brought her and their little girl Jazz along for the tour.
I look around for a girl to focus on as Locke begins the percussion, the beginning of the song is just drum and lead guitar, so my part isn’t until about halfway through. I scan the crowd and don’t find anyone interesting on the first pass, so I do it again, and a woman with long, dark hair just curled at the ends, almost down to her waist, is jumping up and down and yelling with excitement and I can’t help my eyes just stay glued to her. Especially when her eyes fly to mine as if sensing my gaze on her.
She visibly gasps when she sees me looking at her, and it makes me grin. The only reason I’m able to have any flings is because I’m with the Spades and I can flirt from afar with Spades groupies. This woman seems to be one of them, wearing one of our T-shirts with a jack of spades embossed on it. She has it tied above her waist, displaying a slim figure, and she’s wearing a pair of blue jean cut-offs that emphasizes her shapely legs.
She’s gorgeous, and I swallow hard, unable to stop from imagining what all that long, dark hair would look like bouncing around her breasts if she were on top of me. Even though I’m not as outgoing as some of my bandmates and I’m younger, I’m still a man. When I see a woman that beautiful, I can’t help my imagination from running wild.
I strum my bass guitar right on beat and wink at her, leaning forward a bit over the stage and she screams, covering her face for a brief moment before looking back at me. I grin and laugh softly, continuing the song and singing backup for Jackson. I don’t care that the venue is the fullest or if it just only a handful of people at the moment. I’m only singing for this stranger in the crowd. It’s the way I usually do things, but this time, I’m really hoping that I’ll catch up to her after the set is over.
I try to keep my eye on her throughout our set, but some of the newer songs that we’ve come out with are a little more bass heavy, and I’m getting distracted. Unfortunately, at some point, I lose sight of her, and I feel bitterly disappointed, but hope fills me that maybe I’ll see her upstairs at the bar. I definitely can use a drink for some liquid courage to actually go up to her.
It’s not that I don’t want to flirt with women, but I’m just painfully shy at times. Even awkward. Gemma is the only woman I don’t feel nervous around, and that’s because she’s been like a little sister to all of us, not just Jackson. So, usually, I stick to the Spades groupies, because it’s safer. Less likely that I’ll get rejected, and they all find my shy personality adorable. It’s just not the same as meeting someone that really wants to date me, though, and it’s been a long time since I actually sat down and actually chatted with a woman other than the guys’ wives.
What it all boils down to is that I’m lonely. That seems odd to say since I’m surrounded by my found family, but they all go back to their hotel rooms with their wives and I go to mine alone. There’s something different about having a partner that you can rely on. Twenty-eight is still young, sure, but I feel like I’m missing out and I’m getting old. Because the truth is, I’ve never had a steady girlfriend.
The closest I came was with Theresa. We split up a few months ago, and it was sad at first, but then we realized that we were just better off friends. It was fun, sure, but it was never true love, or even any other kind of romantic feeling. We’re close friends now and I usually call her after every show. She worries about me on tour.
Our set goes well but I’ve still lost Mystery Girl in the crowd, so I immediately hop down from the stage and start upstairs.
“What’s put a fire under your ass, Sam?” Jackson asks, looking at me with a discerning eye and blowing his long hair out of his eyes.
Jackson has his demons from the past, including a bad relationship with alcohol, so I know he’s just worried about me. It can get annoying how they all treat me like a baby sometimes, but I know it comes from a place of love.
I huff out a breath. “Just want a beer, that okay with you, Dad?”
I laugh a little as I say it to show him that I’m not being serious, and Jackson chuckles, shaking his head.
“You’re right. Having a little boy has really made me a lot more protective,” he admits.
Jackson’s son and Locke and Gemma’s toddler are staying with family, and I know they must miss them. I know I do. I’ve gotten close with Cain, Elijah, and baby Jazz, and I love playing with them and letting them climb all over me. I’ve always liked kids, and I want some of my own someday.
At least I’ll get to say hello to Jazz in the morning. She always wakes up bright-eyed every day on tour, as if she’s excited to be in a new place. Most kids get cranky while traveling, but not Jazz. She loves it, just like her daddy.
Jackson stays downstairs and Axel is already backstage with Harley, but I run into Gemma on the way to the bar and she grins at me with glassy green eyes.
“Hey, drunkie,” I tease her, and Gemma laughs, loud and open.
“I deserve my martinis after putting up with all of you all tour,” she defends herself.
“You do,” I agree, patting her on the head. She wrinkles her nose but she’s still smiling. She knows that my sense of humor can be a little dry and we’ve always gotten along well.
“Ew.” It’s not like I don’t know that Locke and Gemma had gotten together during our first tour and probably had sex in several different venues and hotels, but they’re like my siblings. “Don’t make me have to bleach my brain.”
Gemma giggles. “Sorry. Lose my filter after a couple of these.”
“Not that you had much to begin with,” I say, but she’s already holding on to the railing and going down the stairs. I shake my head, smiling after her, and then make my way to the bar.
I squeeze in between a blonde and a redhead and they both look up at me from under their eyelashes but they don’t introduce themselves. I order a pitcher of beer, figuring I’ll share it with Locke, but by the time I get back downstairs, they’re nowhere to be found. I figure I know what they’re doing but not where, and I’d rather not know.
Well, shit. Now I have a whole pitcher to drink by myself. Maybe one of those Spades groupies will come over and introduce themselves. I’m not good at approaching women unless I’m on stage. I look around for the cute brunette that I’d seen while we were performing, but all I find is more Spades groupies who are staring at me but not coming over.
I sigh and then the sound of quiet sobbing startles me. I look around and see a small woman in a pair of cut-offs from behind, her shoulders shaking as she cries.
I make a sympathetic noise in the back of my throat and can’t help but walk over to where she’s standing in the hallway near the bathrooms. I clear my throat and gently put my hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and when she turns around, my brain lags behind for a couple of seconds before I realize that it’s the girl I was flirting with onstage. She’s even more beautiful up close, with her blue eyes wet and streaming with tears. My heart clenches in my chest.
“Oh my God,” she says, her face turning from upset to horrified as she sees me, and she wipes hurriedly at her eyes. “This is so embarrassing; I’m such a big fan.”
I smile. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t be embarrassed. I just wanted to come over and check on you. You’re crying pretty hard.”
I rub at the back of my neck, feeling awkward. This is why I usually let women come to me. I hardly ever know what to say or figure my words will come out too blunt. Like Gemma, I don’t always have much of a filter.
The small woman groans. She’s a foot or so shorter than me and I bend over a little to hear her over the music that the venue had started up for after the concert.
“This isn’t the way I wanted to meet a member of Jack and the Spades,” she mutters.
I look toward the table I’d grabbed where my pitcher of beer and two glasses still sat on. “Um, I’ve got some extra beer and a table, if you’re interested in talking about it. Unless you’d rather just stand over here and sob.”
I wince, thinking that last part is probably a little much, but she barks out a laugh.
“I think I’ll take the first option,” she says dryly, sniffling, and finally stops crying, and I stress for about ten seconds over whether I should take her hand before she takes mine, looking up at me. My hand engulfs hers and her palm is so warm. I lead her over to the table and pull out the chair for her.
She plops down as if exhausted and I sit across from her, pouring each of us a beer.
“So, do you want to tell me your name or should I just keep thinking of you as Hot Mystery Girl?” I ask, hoping that my flirting isn’t as awkward as it feels. I swear, it’s like what I think doesn’t come out of my mouth the way I think it will.
“Brooklyn Green,” she says, and I snort, nearly spitting out my beer.
“Like the city?” I ask.
“I know, it’s dumb,” she sighs. “But my parents met in Brooklyn, so here I am.”
“I’m Samuel Hansen,” I say dumbly, and she gestures down to her T-shirt.
“I know,” she replies with a smile. “You’re actually my favorite Spade.”
I mock-gasp. “The others will be devastated.”
Brooklyn laughs. “Somehow, I think they’ve got their hands full. I love watching Gemma’s TikTok’s with Cain.”
We don’t exactly hide that most of the Spades are taken, but I guess with the age of social media, everyone pretty much knows. I guess that means everyone probably knows that I’m the only one not attached, but I want Brooklyn to know for sure that I’m single.
“I don’t have my hands full. In fact, I have very empty hands.” I show them to her and inwardly groan at myself.
Brooklyn grins. “Somehow, I think that’s by choice rather than necessity with the way you look.”
I shrug. “I have a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease, so don’t give me too much credit.”
“I wouldn’t guess.” She sips her beer, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for the beer and conversation. I feel a little better.”
I watch her for a moment. “Do you want to talk about what happened? If it was an ex-boyfriend or something, I have some big friends and we can jump him,” I joke.
She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. I just moved and I met some new people that were excited about the concert. Since I was too, I kind of went on an impromptu road trip.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Wow. You’re one of those types that doesn’t look before you leap, huh?”
“Story of my life,” she agrees. “But things haven’t been working for me lately. I moved to New Mexico on a whim for a new job I was really excited about, but unfortunately, it didn’t work out, so now I’m a recent transplant and unemployed. This trip was to get my mind off of things for a bit, except my so-called new friends ditched me.” She rifled in her purse and pulled out her phone, which had a shattered screen. “And the cherry on top? I dropped my phone during the concert and now it’s dead.”
“Wow.” I pour her another beer. “You need this pitcher more than I do.”
Her blue eyes start to well with tears again and I can barely stand it. “I’m not sure what to do,” she sniffles.
“You said you live in New Mexico?” I ask, and she nods.
I bite my lip, thinking. We’re on our way home for our last show, and it’s not like the tour bus isn’t big enough for someone so small.
“How do you feel about being packed on a tour bus like sardines?” I ask, trying to make it sound lighthearted so she doesn’t think I’m being creepy.
Her blue eyes widen. “Wh-what?”
“We’re going back home for our last show anyway, first thing in the morning. We can give you a ride.”
I actually would have to run this by Gemma, but she isn’t the kind of person to abandon someone having a hard time, so I think it’ll be fine.
“Really?” Her eyes brighten and it makes my throat feel tight with how beautiful they are.
I nod dumbly, unable to think of any words while I’m looking into those eyes of hers. They seem to take up half her face as she leans forward and takes my hands in hers, smiling at me gratefully.
“That would be wonderful, Samuel,” she says. “Kind of like my dream come true, really. The others won’t mind?”
I’m looking down at our joined hands and I don’t really care what the others say, I’ll rent a car and take this beautiful woman named after the city her parents met in home myself if I have to.
“Not at all.”
2
BROOKLYN
I cannot believe this is happening. It’s like a plot out from one of those romcoms I used to watch secretly on cable television at my grandma’s when she was napping. My favorite rockstar has offered me a ride home when I needed it most, and I’m going to be on a tour bus with him and the rest of my favorite band.
