Page 81 of How to Catch a Rockstar

I groan. “You’re going to buy her a drum set before she can walk, aren’t you?”

“Or a guitar. I’m not picky.”

An image of Jett teaching our baby to play the drums pops into my head. He’d be such a good teacher. Patient and supportive. Love for the two of them fills my heart with happiness.

Not this again. I don’t love Jett. It’s the hormones talking.

“Come on.” Jett holds out his hand. When I grasp it, he pulls me out of the booth.

“Where are we going?” I ask when we start toward the door.

He squeezes my hand. “I got this.”

Seriously? Jett has this? I’m the one who usually handles these types of situations. I’m the one who usually is the recipient of the rage from the fans who don’t want me. They want the band. This’ll be interesting.

Lucy frowns at us. “Are you sure? I can hold them off until you sneak out of the back. There’s no reason to play the hero, Jett.”

“Jett?” He raises an eyebrow. “You know who I am.”

“Fender comes in here all the time. When you looked familiar, it wasn’t hard to figure out who you are.”

“Thanks for your help, Lucy.”

“No need to thank me. This is the most excitement we’ve seen in ages.”

“Nonetheless.” He winks at her.

“You ready?” she asks and he nods. She opens the door and the teenagers scream.

It is him!

Oh my god!

I love you, Jett!

Will you sign my boob?

Jett ignores the shouts. He wraps a protective arm around me and begins to make his way through the crowd.

“Excuse me, darlings. I need to get my lady home.”

Your lady?

Who’s his lady?

Is this woman his lady?

I groan at the obvious disgust in their voices. I fist my hands to stop myself from cradling my belly. Better a fat girlfriend than a pregnant one.

Jett ignores their shouts and leads me to the passenger door. He opens it and helps me inside. Once I’m buckled up, he shuts the door.

I assume he’s going to give his fans some attention now. After all, I’m safely burrowed away in the vehicle. I can wait a few minutes.

But he doesn’t. He saunters around the car waving at the girls but doesn’t stop until he’s sliding into the seat next to me.

“Don’t you want to spend some time with them?” I ask when he switches on the vehicle.

His brow wrinkles. “Why would I want to spend time with them when I have you? You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.”

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