Page 51 of Knocked Up by a Rockstar

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Luna. I miss you. Yes.”

And the plan was made.

I went to let Sylvester know that we’d received the go-ahead. We had to start gathering everyone together now, checking that they were on board with the plan. But Sylvester was sitting on his desk chair by the window, his chin in his palm, staring moodily out over the city.

I approached cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

He glanced at me and then his eyes flicked away. He rarely looked so uncomfortable as this. When he spoke, his voice was unusually flat and monotonous. “Luna, I’m so sorry for fucking up everything up in your life again. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t fix things by leaving, I don’t fix things by staying with you... Whatever happens, being tied to me is a curse we can’t break.”

I didn’t know he felt like this. I knew he’d gone to efforts to separate us when he knew he’d be taking over the business, when he’d found out he was Emory Brock’s son. But I didn’t know it went as deep as it did – that he considered himself a curse to be around. I’d never thought of him like that.

I perched on the edge of his desk, looking him over carefully. “Sylvester, you aren’t a curse.”

“I’m not? Sure seems like I am.”

I shook my head. “No, you’re not. You were put in a shitty situation too young. You’ve been trying to protect other people your whole life. But it’s not your duty to protect everyone. I was the one who got involved with Apollo in the first place. I wrote his memoir, remember? That’s my bad, if anything, for not seeing through his lies. And for... I don’t know, blindly going where the money was. You didn’t put me in that situation. I arrived at it of my own accord, thank you very much.”

Sylvester met my eyes again. “Thank you, Luna. You are very kind.”

I smirked. “I don’t often get that said to me. I’m told it’s the resting bitch face.”

Sylvester scowled. “Who said that? I’ll have them know, it’s resting...niceface.”

“I don’t think that’s a comeback I’ll be using in the future. But thank you. And thanks for... trying to protect me. But I’m okay. I can handle myself. Maybe I can even try and protect you a little.”

Then, Sylvester patted his lap. “Come here.”

I stepped over to him and swung my leg over his lap until I was perched there, our bodies close and facing each other. He took hold of my hips to secure me in place.

Into his lips, I whispered: “You said I was yours. Are you mine, Sylvester Brock?”

He nodded, eyes hungry, licking his tongue across his lips. “If you want me to be. Then yes. Yes.Yes.” He pushed his hands under my shirt, skimming across my skin, and pressed a kiss into my neck, and then my earlobe, and then back onto my lips.

I kissed him back with everything I had. I was getting wet, despite the urgency of our situation, despite the fact that we had to coordinate however many people into a helicopter and flee to the mountains...

I giggled a little breathily and pawed his hands off me. I didn’t want him to stop, ever, but we had things to do. “We really need to make our plans. We’ll have plenty of time for this while we’re stuck in the mountains together. Infinite time, almost.”

“Mmhmm. I like the sound of that.” He nuzzled his face into my neck, causing shivers to go up and down my spine. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve hired a doctor. My brother Winston.”

Winston – who hated me for writing Apollo’s memoir? “He really wants to come and hide out in the mountains with us? Does he know I’m pregnant?”

Sylvester shook his head. “He gets bored in the city. And I think he’s worried one of us will fall off a cliff and have no one to tend our injuries. Besides, his wife’s a photographer, and Max is on summer break.”

There were more people? I couldn’t help but sound a little exasperated. “Max?”

“Their kid. I think he’s ten? Eleven?”

“They know this isn’t a vacation, right?” I was concerned about there being a child with us for this trip in which we were ostensibly hiding out from a crazed billionaire who had it in for all of us.

If I really thought about it, there was a deeper concern lurking. I hadn’t been around kids much, and I wasn’t really sure if I was a ‘kid’ kind of person. I was sure I’d love my own, of course. But I had been worrying that I lacked that... motherly instinct. Kids hadn’t been in my plans. My plans had only gone so far as funding an orchestra to play my dad’s compositions, and then dying alone. I’d learnt it was worse to have ambitions than not.

What if Winston’s kid hated me? What ifmykid hated me? What if all kids hated me, and I realized that in the remote mountains, that I was making the worst mistake of my life?

But Sylvester grinned in that disarming way of his and my ice cold heart melted just a little. “It kind of is a vacation.”

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