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She glances at my bike and then back to me. "I know who you're talkin' about. He ain't been around here in weeks. Matter fact, I ain't even sure he still lives there." She cocks her head to the side. "You look familiar. You been around here before?"
"Nope." I give her a two-finger wave and turn on my heel, heading back to my bike before she has a chance to figure out who the fuck I am and where she's seen me. The last thing I want to do is cause a goddamn scene right now. "Thanks for the info," I call over my shoulder.
Halfway to my bike, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to find Riley's name flashing across the screen. Fuck. She's been calling me since last night, but I've been ignoring her.
Riley: Get over here now. I have news that can't wait.
Riley: Don't make me come to you, Memphis Hughes.
"Fuck my life," I growl, shaving the phone back into my pocket. I don't have time for this shit. But I know damn well if she has to come find me, I'll live long enough to regret it.
Riley Jamison majored in music management and torture. She's a fucking expert in both. Her kids aren't getting away with shit when they're teenagers.
I throw my leg over my bike and take off, heading for Saunders Management on Music Row.
Twenty minutes later, I step into Riley's office to find her and Cash inside, their youngest asleep in Cash's giant arms. The sight of their baby brings a warmth to my chest that I've never felt—one I like all too well.
I want that shit for myself, and I never fucking thought I'd say that. Kids and marriage were never on my radar. In fact, I never wanted to screw up a kid like I was. The way I was raised, bouncing from foster home to foster home made me hesitant to ever bring a kid into this world. But that was before Kylie.
Now, everything is different. I want my ring on her finger and my kid in her belly more than I've ever wanted anything. When I think about the future, that's the shit I think about—a family with her. A future with her. I want everything and I don't want to wait.
She'll make one hell of a mom.
My fantasies about her carrying my kid are quickly overshadowed by the worry etched on Riley's face when I catch sight of her behind her massive desk.
"It's about time," she growls, exasperation coloring her tone. "I've been calling you since last night."
"I know." I rake a hand through my long hair, grimacing in apology. "Been kinda busy."
She arches one dark brow at me. "You asked me to look into Kylie for you, or did you forget?"
"Fuck." I blow out a breath. "I didn't forget. I just…changed my mind."
Her brows furrow, and she exchanges a glance with Cash. He doesn't say a word, so Riley turns back to me.
"You changed your mind?" she asks.
I jerk my chin in a nod.
"So you already know who she is?"
"No." I scrub a hand down my face, my emotions a tangled knot. Confidence wars with the need to know every goddamn thing about my girl. A healthy dose of worry about Venom adds to the mix. I'm impatient as fuck to know everything, but I want to hear the truth from her lips. And I promised her that I'd give her that chance tonight.
I won't go back on that now. Not when she's accepted every part of me without reservation or hesitation. I owe her the chance to tell her truth on her own terms.
"It's complicated, Riley," I say instead of trying to explain all of that.
Riley hesitates for a long moment, chewing on her bottom lip, and then her expression softens. "You're in love with her."
"That fuckin' obvious, huh?" I ask.
An amused smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "I know the look."
"Then you know I want to hear the truth from her," I say, my voice firm.
Riley and Cash exchange another look, which irritates the fuck out of me. They obviously know something they're worried about.
"What the fuck is that look about?" I demand, my patience wearing thin.
