Lacing her arms around my neck, Anna asked, “Have you heard back from the producer? Can I hear the first song yet?”

A twinge of guilt ran through me so fast, it instantly killed my arousal. I hadn’t wanted to lie about leaving all the time to record the album, so a few days after we’d moved in with my parents, I’d told Anna a half lie—that a record label had picked me up. She’d been excited to hear that, and proud, which had made me feel pretty goddamn shitty. Honestly, it still made me feel shitty. But having hope on the horizon had eased Anna’s mood and her mind, so the lie was almost worth the regret. Almost.

The song that she was curious about was the first single. I’d recorded it last week, but the guys I’d hired were still tweaking it. Seemed odd to me that they needed to. Once a D-Bags song had been laid down, it was good to go…no alterations required. But I’d heard the raw cut of the single, and I agreed with my producer. It needed…something.

Frowning, I told her, “No, not yet…it’s not good enough.”

By the look on Anna’s face, it was obvious she was shocked to hear me admit that. I could understand why. Typically¸ I loved everything I did. But I wasn’t all that fond of myself at the moment, and I was under a lot of pressure. This album needed to be perfect. “Not good enough? You always think everything is…well, amazing.”

Yeah, but I have so much more riding on this than I usually do. My entire world is wrapped up in that CD…you just don’t know that. Smiling, I shrugged. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s spectacular, but it’s just not quite the right level of awesome yet.” I pinched her butt. “You just have to wait.”

Giggling, she squirmed on my lap, lightening my mood and making my dick harden back up. Then Onnika laughed and I completely lost it. Goddammit. If we didn’t get out of here, I might not ever have sex again.

Anna let out a long sigh as she threaded her fingers through my hair. It was wistful, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she missed having sex with me too. Rubbing her back, I murmured, “Maybe Mom and Dad can watch the kids tonight, and we can borrow the car? Take a drive somewhere nice and quiet…get freaky in the backseat?” I wriggled my eyebrows at her and she smirked.

“You want to borrow your parents’ car and make out at a lookout point.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “It’s like I’m fifteen again.”

Ignoring the humor in her tone, I said, “Just an idea. You seemed like you wanted to do me, that’s all.”

She made another wistful sigh. “No…that’s not what I was thinking about.” When I gave her a funny look, she smiled and amended her statement. “Yes, I do want to do you, and not just hidden away in the pantry, but…” She sighed again. “Kiera called this morning. She’s pregnant…”

By the way she said it, and the way she stared at Onnika beating the phone against the mattress, it was clear she wanted to be pregnant again too. “You want to try for another one, babe? ’Cause we can put Onnie down for a nap, find Gibson, and…” Peering over Anna’s shoulder, I listened for my eldest daughter. “Where is Gibson anyway?”

Anna shook her head and answered my first question. “We can’t afford another baby right now, Griffin. Not until the show starts.” By the way she said it, she was holding on to that possibility like it was a lifeline. Like she was hoping the album did well, but the show was her true salvation. A horrible feeling welled within me—it was corrosive, like battery acid, and for the millionth time, I thought I should just tell her the truth. I opened my mouth to do it right as Gibson ran into the room holding a foot-long snake.

“Look, Mommy! It’s squirmy!”

Gibson laughed. Anna screamed. And the truth never made it past my lips.

Thanks to loans and credit cards, I was able to pay all the people I owed money to and was able to finish my album. It took two more very long months to do it, but I eventually had a full, finished record. And even though the album was the best thing I’d ever heard while I’d been recording it, I was nervous to hear the final product, scared even. It was a strange feeling for me. I was never nervous. For anything. Maybe it was the stress of living with my parents. Maybe it was the fact that I owed a shitload of money that I wouldn’t be able to repay if this album wasn’t a hit. Maybe it was because I had a ton of pressure on me now, like never before. Or maybe it was just the fact that I was doing this alone, without Anna 100 percent beside me, because she didn’t know the whole story. I hated it. In many ways, life had been so much easier when I was with the D-Bags.

On the night the album went live for preordering, I brought a copy home for everyone to listen to. Mom invited the family over for dinner and made a batch of her world-famous lasagna. I almost wished she hadn’t, since I was kind of freaking out about this CD—literally everything I had was riding on this album—but I supposed it was only appropriate to have the people I cared about most there for the unveiling. It better be good. I couldn’t afford for it to be anything less than amazing.

While dinner cooked, I sat everyone down in the living room. My palms were sweating, I was so tense. Damn it, I hated clammy hands. This was my moment of glory. I should be flying high, so full of confidence it bordered on arrogance. And any other time I would have been, but this flimsy little disc was either going to make me or break me. Fuck.

Grabbing the plain CD case, I showed it to my family. “This is going to blow your mind.” I hoped they bought the assurance, since I didn’t really feel it.