Michaela
Holy mother of god, my phone had become a porno. Mo had sent me picture after picture, and I had to assume Yael was the one who took some of them. In one, he even held up a handwritten sign that said: “I miss you, Mic.” That was the most wholesome. The others were...not.
Mo with his shirt off.
Mo playing guitar with his shirt off.
A close up of Mo’s crotch in leather pants, with a definite dick impression.
Mo smiling.
Mo with heavy-lidded eyes, his bottom lip between his teeth,
“What’re you looking at, Mickey?”
Jumping, like I’d been caught committing a crime, I hugged my phone to my chest. “Porn.”
Devon Chambers, the namesake of The Devon Chambers Band, smirked. “Is it an article about me?”
I snorted. “Yep. That’s exactly what I was looking at. You know me, I’m completely obsessed with you.”
We were backstage, a couple hours before showtime, and he was wandering around, getting in everyone’s way—as usual. A lot of musicians liked to take it easy once sound check was done. Not Devon. He was a control freak and couldn’t relax without checking up on every single element that went into his concert. Including me.
Especially me. He seemed to get a massive kick out of being my boss. Meanwhile, I was about ready to give him a massive kick.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head with a sigh. “You ready to talk about what’s going on under your shirt?”
I covered my chest with my hands and phone. “They’re called tits, Dev. You’ve seen them.”
For a second, he got distracted, his eyes lowering to my chest. “True. But it’s been a while. I need a refresher.”
“Never on your life.”
My ex-husband threw his head back and laughed, reminding me of the guy I married. We’d been barely more than kids, carefree and in love. Then he got famous.Reallyfamous, and it all shot to shit. He was still an asshole, after all these years, but enough time had gone by, I could occasionally manage his tours without wanting to either cry or strangle him. He’d called me personally this time, begging me to take on his club tour because he’d fired the previous manager. I hadn’t gotten the whole story, but knowing Devon, I was certain it involved him being obnoxious.
When his laughter died down, he laid a hand on my stomach. “I’m talking about this.”
I swatted him away. I wasn’t a Buddha; only Mo was allowed to treat me like one. Man, I missed him.
“Are you implying I’ve gotten fat?” I asked, ever the smartass.
“Nah, I know when you gain weight—it goes straight to your ass. Who’s the dad?”
I tucked my phone in my back pocket and tightened my ponytail. “None of your business.”
His brown eyes went cloudy for a second. Devon was as handsome as he’d always been. Hazel eyes, dark hair, and a smile that had tamed the wild right out of me. Back when we were married, he’d been fresh-eyed, and his style had been raw and emotional. After so much time in the business and living, it made sense he’d have honed himself into a sleeker, shinier version. Didn’t mean I had to like it.
“That should’ve been mine.”
My face scrunched up so much, it nearly folded in on itself. “Um, no? I haven’t even spoken to you in two years. Don’t get all nostalgic on me just because my life has moved on.”
“We always talked about all the babies we were going to have, what they were going to look like. Guess seeing you actually have that is throwing me off.” He nodded at my bump. “You happy about it?”
“It was a surprise, but yeah, I’m happy.”
He gave a sharp nod. “Good. Then I’m happy for you, Mickey. Can I be Uncle Dev?”
Now it was my turn to laugh my ass off. “You can bethat singer on the radio Mommy once knew.”