“You aren’t calling the baby Cletus,” she whispered.
Luke simply winked at her.
“What was so important we had to shovel down breakfast?” Ben said. Chaya, his best friend, the girl with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes whose life he’d saved all those years ago, perched on the drop cloth-covered armchair. Next to Ben was Alex.
“If you think that’s bad, Cerys made us leave the grocery store before we’d got to the cereal aisle.” Their lead singer, Jase, helped himself to a glass of water. “Which means I’ll be eating overnight oats instead of Frosties and it will be all your fault, Luke.”
Cerys rolled her eyes. “You can go back to the store and get some, you big six-year-old man-child. But I do need to get to the studio within the hour.”
Luke pulled out a chair from the table, allowing her to sit before he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’m going to be a dad. Willow’s pregnant.”
Shock etched Alex’s eyes, and he caught the concerned look Ben sent Matt. “Before you start asking questions,” he continued. “No, it wasn’t planned. No, I didn’t know until Willow came here. We’re still processing what it means. And yes, Willow is staying here for the foreseeable future.”
Izabel leaned forward. “Are the two of you a couple, then?”
He held his breath for a moment, uncertain of how to approach the question. “No,” he said. “Not officially.”
“Not officially?” Jase asked. “What does that mean?”
“We’re going to pretend we are for twelve months.”
The words did little to settle the feeling he’d just embarked on a year-long roller coaster ride.
“No offence, guys, but that’s a bit fucked up,” Alex said.
“I have sponsorships and endorsements,” Willow said. “Big ones planned out for the next twelve months. Many of them don’t lend well to getting pregnant with someone I’m not in a relationship with. Nothing says family values like getting knocked up by a one-night stand, right? So, I’ve asked Luke to pretend with me until after the baby is born.”
“You agreed to this?” Ben asked.
Luke shrugged. “None of this is ideal, and that’s my kid she’s carrying. I owe it to both of them to help fix it if I can.”
Izabel eyed Willow with suspicion. “Is it fair to Luke to ask him to do that?”
“If I had other options, I would have taken them. I explained to Luke, and he’s the only person I intend to share all the details with. But the short version is, I’m about to legally and financially separate from my father who has run my business since I was seven.”
“Willow was in a popular TV series for years and starred in a handful of movies.”
Jase leaned forward. “No offence, Willow, but we suddenly start to come into some coin, and you appear.”
Luke couldn’t explain why the questioning of Willow bothered him as much as it did. “Stop questioning her like a witness.”
“It’s okay,” Willow said. “I’m significantly wealthier than you. I’ll make more. But I need help to manage my reputation so I can do that. I wish it wasn’t necessary, but there you go. I figured I helped you guys out. Without my video going viral, you guys would still be fighting to get a deal. I feel like this is the perfect time to repay the favour.”
“Look,” Luke said. “We just need your support right now, and your help in whatever we decide.”
“What can we do?” Izabel asked.
“We don’t know. We’re still figuring out what we need to do ourselves.” Luke looked around the apartment. “But you can help me decorate my place up so it’s fit for Willow and Cletus. Apparently, I’ve got some decorating to do to make this place liveable.”
“Finally,” Alex said. “It’s depressing in here.”
“Fuck me,” Matt cursed. “We only just packed in working for Uncle Allan’s painting and decorating firm.”
“It’s amazing that you were a painter and decorator, and yet?” Cerys gestured around the room with her hand.
“Hey, after a hard day of work, the last thing I felt like doing was decorating my own place.”
Ben leaned forward. “Who the fuck is Cletus?”
“Cletus the Foetus,” Luke replied with a grin.
Willow rolled her eyes. “We aren’t calling it—”
“Cletus,” Jase said, slapping Luke on the back. “Fucking love it. Congratulations, Dad.”
6
Willow laughed as Luke juggled the finds from a successful trip to the local makers market, thrift shops, and florist. “I would have carried some of those, you know.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” he said with a grimace as glass clinked against glass.
“Those three green glass bottles will look great on the side table. And the plants will really fill out the corner where—”
“Door, flower.” He tipped his chin toward his apartment.
“Oh, right.” She took out the key he’d given her and let them in. The faint smell of paint still lingered in the air, and she was grateful they’d kept the windows wide open, made pregnancy-safe paint choices, and waited until she’d just hit her second trimester. “It looks so much better in here.”
Luke placed all the bags on the table. “In fairness, it does.”
The large cushions in tan and black and white had given new life to the grey sofa. And the fresh white paint made the single brick wall pop. With some furniture rearrangement, she’d made a reading nook and a living area to watch TV that was clearly separate from the dining table. It felt bigger.
Airier, as the early May sunshine flooded in.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“What do you feel like?”
Willow started to take the glass bottles out of the bag. “Spaghetti?”
“Pasta I can do. Garlic bread?”
“Perfect. I was thinking, I need to post the first video of us on Shamaze and follow it up with a mix of video and images on my other platforms. We need to start, or it’s going to be too close to me announcing the pregnancy. But I can’t do that until you signed the—”
“Fuck me, Will. It’s been a nice day. Do we have to talk about this right now?”
“You said yesterday you’d sign it.”
Luke sighed. “You’re right. Give it to me. There’s nothing about custody and payments and shit in here is there? Because that really does need a lawyer.”
“No. I figured we could work that out together or mediate it when the time comes. This is just about the deal. I’ve amended the confidentiality clause to include only the members of the band and their immediate relationships.”
Luke flipped through the clauses. The definition of confidential information. Their roles as the disclosing party and receiving party. The time period. The details of the provisions. Twelve months to act as her boyfriend. Clear boundaries stating it was fake. To appear on both their individual social media accounts and the possibility of a joint one. To assist in the creation of videos and photographs to lend credibility to the relationship. To never publicly share what they’d agreed to.