Accidental Fake Fiancé

He left me with more than one memorable night.
Now a surprise is on the way.

One reckless night is all it took to leave me craving his arms and carrying his baby.
Too bad he disappeared, and I have no way to find him.

Oh, it gets worse.
My brother’s wedding is coming up, and I am dateless.
If I show up alone, my cheating ex will be all over me.

When fate throws my one night of fun back together, I swoon over his tatted body and navy-blue eyes.
After a few white lies, I have myself a rockstar fake fiancé.

He broke my heart once, and I knew better than to fall for him again.
But it may be the hormones talking, my heart wants to make him mine.
And I realize I need to tell this rockstar the truth about the baby...before it's too late.

Finally back in Houston, Texas. The tour is done, and it was equal parts exhausting and exhilarating. But most of all, it was busy, loud, and crowded. Just as I like my days. Now, I’m alone again and I don’t know what exactly to feel besides the rush of sadness and hurt that flood my senses.

The trip from the airport is supposed to be a few minutes, but the nauseous feeling already bubbling inside will be worse as soon as I’m home. When the silence is screaming with the memories.

It’s time to enjoy the resting time, they say, plan our next album, recharge our batteries. I’m sure that has something to do with the baby Dylan just found out he was having. That was quite the shocker. But I can’t fault my friend. I would be more than happy to “enjoy the resting time” if I had someone like that waiting for me at home.

But I don’t. In fact, I have no one, other than my band brothers, of course.

Being home is bittersweet for me. I love Houston—there’s a freshness in the air I really love, and the light folk music played at night. Houston is a lovely place with many tourist sites and prospects. The weather is always extreme. The summers as hot as they get, and the winters frigid, but it doesn’t change the heart and soul of the place. The people here are warm, most of the communities have a bond. Ranchers, farmers, and local artisans all found a way to co-exist.

The problem with being home is the in-between moments. In-between tours, in-between gigs, in-between meets with the guys, in-between girls. The down time. Alone time. Quiet time.

My career as a bassist started when I was thirteen. Chase, Lucas, and I had started the band with another guy, but he sucked, so Dylan had taken pity of us and decided to join us a year later, after hearing us play a couple of times. We have been together through thick and thin, and the boys are the only family I have now.

Our driver slows down, and I rub a hand over my head. I fleetingly imagine Dylan spending time with Amy, soaking up their newfound bliss, same as Lukas, reuniting with Mika and living their happily committed lives. I guess, Chase and I are the last men standing. And I know he is looking forward to the day he’ll meet his better half. He always said once he does, it’s for life.

Life…

As much as I dream of having a family—wife, kids, dog, picket fence, the whole shebang—I know that life is no more than a fantasy. I’m not meant to have a family. If I were, I wouldn’t have lost mine all those years ago.

Running from those thoughts, on focus on the night ahead of me. I wish the guys were here with me, or at least Chase. But they have their lives to live. Lucas and Dylan with their better halves and Chase went to visit his parents.

A sigh leaves me before I can even try to hide it, the hurt too much to hold inside. Alone time sucks ass.

When I’m around people, I am the life of the party. If I am loud enough, every other noise drowns. Including the one inside my head. Being fun is all I’ve got. My image as a part of Soul Sounds is important. I bring fun to the group. Keeping their spirits up. And I never want that to change.

As the cab pulls to the curb, I thank the cabbie and exit, beelining it to the club. Maybe this will be loud enough to silence the ghosts from the past. I go straight to the bar and ask for a beer, which is immediately set in front of me. Taking a few drags, I can finally relax enough to look around. The club is pumping and it is loud, which helps a bit.

As my eyes are scanning the room, a blonde sitting at the table grabs my attention.

“Hey,” I say when I walk up to her. She might be just the distraction I’m needing tonight. The white noise to quiet all the other noise. The toxic thoughts always swirling inside. And she is beautiful. “Is it just me? Or do your eyes light up this very dimly-lit bar?” I ask.

The corners of her lips lift. “Is that your style?” she asks. “Does that even work for you?”

She has the bluest shade of eyes I have ever seen. A California blue that has depth. She has a delicate, pointy nose, and her lips are full, moist too, and I can imagine what their pink softness will taste like just from looking at her.