Page 16 of Cougar

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“Hey, Em,” Lucas greets me as he walks into the kitchen and leans on his forearms over the island countertop. He scans me from head to toe, taking in my robe and messy bed hair piled on top of my head. His face twists in confusion. “Did you just get up?” He pulls his phone from his front pocket. “It’s two o’clock. You never sleep this late.”

“I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.” I bring the mug to my lips.

He furrows his brows. “Are you doing okay?”

I place the mug on the counter beside me and make my way over to Lucas. “Come here.” Even though he towers over me, he immediately steps into my open arms and I wrap him in a hug. “I’m okay, sweetie. I’m just trying to adjust to life without Marcus.” I pull back to look up at him. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he replies dryly as he pulls away. Lucas has his own way of dealing with his emotions. He’s never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. I’d say he gets it from his father since I don’t think his mother had a heart. Lucas Wild is Andrew’s son, and I guess you could say he’s mine, too, since I helped raise him.

I’d only met Lucas’s mother, Molly, a few times when Andrew invited her to their local shows. Marcus and I had been married for less than a year, and I was still getting used to life as a rock star’s wife. I didn’t know the extent of Drew and Molly’s relationship other than she was a groupie he liked to screw and Drew was her favorite shiny rock star.

Then suddenly Molly was gone. She stopped coming to shows. If Drew was bothered by her disappearance, he didn’t let on; he’d moved on to the next groupie.

Then one day out of the blue, Molly showed back up. And she wasn’t alone.

Marcus had left his favorite T-shirt on the bus, and since I’d been the one to pack it, I went back to grab it. By then, Royal Mayhem was pretty popular, so Marcus hired Bass as my security.

As Bass and I approached the bus, there was Molly leaning against the side with a diaper bag and a baby carrier at her feet. She looked like one of those 80s rock video vixens. Big tits, too much makeup, five-inch heels, and bleached-blonde hair teased to the sky with so much hairspray she needed a “highly flammable” warning label.

“Excuse me.” She popped her gum as she straightened and took an unsteady step forward. “Is Drew in there?” She gestured to the bus.

Bass took a step forward. “He’s not. How’d you get back here?”

She propped her hands on her hips and purred, “I have my ways.” She gave her tits a little shimmy.

I rolled my eyes. “He’s about to go on stage,” I informed her.

Her gaze moved from Bass to me, a sneer on her face as she gave me a once-over. She didn’t remember me. We weren’t friends—I was her competition. Typical groupie.

I huffed, annoyed. “Want me to give him a message?”

“Yeah.” Another pop of her gum. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to the sleeping baby. “Tell Drew I didn’t sign up for this.”

My heart sank.Wait. What?

“Excuse me?” I asked, confused.

Another pop of her gum. I wanted to slap it out of her mouth.

She lifted a shoulder. “I was trying to get with Marcus, but he always had that chick hanging around.”

I was that chick. Molly was an idiot. Bass snorted beside me and I pinned him with a glare before returning my attention to Molly.

“You were after Marcus?” I asked for clarification before I slapped her head off her shoulders.

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, Andrew was hot but—”

I lunged for her, but Bass quickly wrapped his arms around me. Molly screeched and stumbled backward, nearly falling on her ass. “He’s my husband, you skank,” I spat.

Bass tightened his hold on me and chuckled over the top of my head. “Girl, you better get lost. Now. Before I let her loose.”

Molly rolled her eyes and popped her gum again. “Fine.” She adjusted her halter top before running her hands down the front of her tight miniskirt, brushing off some imaginary lint. “Just make sure you tell Drew that everything he needs for his son is in the bag.” She turned on her heels and started to walk away. I wanted to yell, “Good riddance,” and that the baby was better off without her, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She didn’t care.

“What’s his name?” I called out to her retreating back.

Without a break in her stride or bothering to look back, she replied, “Lucas.”

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