Love is a Drum Beat

1 JO Noah Clarke had a death wish. “What do you mean you’re not coming back right away?” Jo Jackson paced the length of the room in her one-bedroom apartment. Okay, it was more of a waddle with the seven-month-old bowling ball sitting on her bladder. This couldn’t be happening. “We need to figure all this family stuff out, Joey.” Noah at least had the decency to sound guilty about leaving his best friend, his drummer, in L.A. Alone. “Noah.” She tried to keep the bite out of her words. No matter how much of a bonehead he’d always been, he’d never deserved the scorn she reserved for the rest of the world. “I am going to have this little alien baby in two months. Why did you have to go fall in love with our publicist now? Couldn’t it have waited until this thing was out of me?” She was being petulant, she knew that. She was happy for Noah and Melanie, she really was. But this was the third phone call today telling her the only support system she had wouldn’t be in town for a while. First, it was Ben. As the responsible member of their rockstar support group, Rockstars Anonymous, he’d been truly remorseful. But his baby brother was getting engaged after dating his boyfriend for only three months. Ben said he needed to be there, but he’d be back in a couple weeks. Then came Drew’s call. Jo loved Drew like a brother, which was why she understood his need to return to his tour a couple days early. Because with his tour came the girl he was in love with. And Jo liked Lola. Plus, when they’d called, she’d thought she’d have Noah and Melanie with her for the remainder of her nine-month sentence. Noah sighed into the phone, but it was an indulgent sigh rather than an irritated one. They’d been partners since Jo was an eighteen-year-old kid running from her dad, and Noah was a twenty-year-old Englishman who’d been way out of his depth in New York City. “Joey,” he said. Jo flopped onto the couch as pain seared up toward her ribs. “Just ignore me, Noah. I’m in a mood. I know you, Mel, and Stella need this time.” “I could never ignore you. I love you, Jo. I just…” He blew out a breath. “I want Stella to get to know my nan. Melanie and I aren’t staying at the estate, we’re renting a place in London. But I can’t leave yet.” “I know.” Through all their years together, Noah never mentioned his family or the fact that they were exceedingly wealthy. And now, she knew why. From what Drew told her on his call, they were awful. But his nan… Jo rubbed a hand over her stomach. She shouldn’t be mad at him for wanting to spend time with his family or for doing what’s best for the orphaned niece in his care. Jo always dreamed of having a family she missed, people who’d welcome her and her baby home. In a way, she sort of did. Rockstars Anonymous had become a family. A family who abandoned her with two months left to go in her pregnancy. “I promise we’ll be back in time for your little alien to make an appearance.” She smiled at that, fully believing he’d try. When the world thought of Noah Clarke, they saw a bad boy, someone who didn’t care about much. But Jo had always known different. “What if something happens?” It was a ridiculous fear she’d had. Jo Jackson didn’t get scared or nervous. But the next two months… they terrified her. “Who will I call if I need someone?” Noah was quiet for a long moment. “Dax is still in town, isn’t he?” Dax Nelson, the mysterious recording artist who never let fans see his face. He was more famous than the rest of their group combined, yet he could walk through a grocery store without signing a single autograph. A growl started in the back of her throat. “I am not calling Dax. The guy hates me.” Noah laughed at that. “Not true. You know Dax… he’s just not good at the social stuff. He’s awkward.” “Understatement.” “But he does care. If you called him, he’d come. I know it.” She leaned back against the cushions. “I was kind of hoping you’d just say nothing bad will happen.” “That too.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Well, this has been fun and all, but not really. I’m going to try to get up from this couch—try being the operative word—to get a seltzer water and pretend it’s a beer.” “Everything is going to be fine, Joey. I know it.” “Sure.” “Call Dax.” She hung up, giving him no response. Call Dax? She huffed out a breath. In Noah’s dreams. Jo hadn’t seen Dax since their awkward Christmas weeks ago. He wasn’t a bad guy. Just… she always got the impression he didn’t like her. That there was something wrong with her pink-tipped hair and out-of-wedlock pregnancy. “Okay, baby alien, help me out a little.” She pushed herself from the pillows and rocked forward before flopping back with a grunt. “Whoever invented the whole having babies thing was obviously a man. That means you, God.” With another grunt, she rocked forward again, this time managing to push up onto her feet. “Victory.” Her arms shot in the air, the movement throwing her off balance. She pitched forward with a yelp and landed on her knees. If only her fans could see her now. She gave the kitchen across the room an accusatory look. “I will conquer you.” Placing her hands on the floor, she started to crawl. “See, baby? I’m teaching you early.” Her knees ached as she made her way over the hardwood floors. “Crawling is not meant for adults.” If Noah were there, she’d have just made him get her whatever she needed. He was the only person she’d ever let herself rely on. He saved her all those years ago when her world felt so dark. She reached the kitchen and reached up to grip the counter to pull herself up before opening the fridge. There wasn’t much inside. She’d been relying on takeout since she’d started showing. Leaving the house to do things like shop were a no go. No one could see her like this. If they did, the picture of her baby bump would show up across the internet. She wasn’t ready for the world to know, for the questions to begin. Who was the father? They’d assume it was Noah. Why did she hide it? Because they were vultures. What will the enigmatic drummer do with a tiny little baby? She had no freaking clue. Reaching into the fridge, she grabbed two cans of seltzer and a takeout container from her favorite Chinese restaurant. Sniffing it to make sure it was still good, she shrugged and lugged her haul back to the couch. Opening a can, she took a long drink, imagining it was the kind of drink that could make her forget. It wasn’t. And when she unlocked her phone, she realized nothing could make her forget the mess that was Jo Jackson’s life. There was a single text message. Not many people had her number, and she wasn’t quite sure how her dad got it, but he’d called and texted periodically over the years. She’d named him Douche Nozzle in her phone because she knew he’d hate it. Well, he used to hate her, everything about her. Until she signed her first recording contract. Douche Nozzle: Hi, Joey. It’s your dear old dad. Give me a ring some time. I need a favor. Favors in his world usually meant money to bail him out of whatever gambling debt he’d racked up or false lead he’d found in his search for her mother who’d disappeared from their lives when Jo was a kid. And Jo had fallen for it time and again. Each time, she thought it would be different. That she’d give him money, and he’d try to have a real relationship with her. Each time, she was disappointed. Maybe it was the act of growing a baby, or maybe she was going soft, but she’d vowed to be a better parent than she’d ever had. She wouldn’t abandon her kid like her own mom did, nor treat them to so much misery they’d run away and join the circus. Okay, the music scene wasn’t the circus. It just felt like it sometimes. She powered down her phone. She’d had too many let downs today, and the only thing that could make her feel better was a cheesy romcom. Another secret. No one would ever guess the surly drummer watched Hallmark movies. If they found out, it would c***k the reputation she’d built. And she wasn’t about to let everyone know it was all an act. That she wasn’t quite sure who the real Jo Jackson was.