The Rocker's Babies (The Rocker 6)

Just because I was as big as a whale didn’t mean I was going to show up looking like a frumpy old wife. I was expected to be at all of the shows, especially the finales. There was always a close up of me sitting in the front row behind the judges’ table. Tonight I was going to show the world that while I might be very pregnant that didn’t mean I was any less hot. I’d straightened my hair and made it shine. My makeup consisted of a very dramatic smoky eye and glossy pink lips with just a hint of shimmer. I was wearing all black from the maternity dress pants to the low cut top that showed off just how much my breasts had changed over the last nine months.

I looked good.

Another small contraction hit me and I twisted in discomfort. My lower back was aching more and more and I just wanted to take two Tylenol PM and go to bed. Instead, I lifted my black with white skulls Loungefly purse that Drake had surprised me with a few weeks ago and headed out. The town car was already waiting on me and I climbed in with a smile for the driver.

As usual I arrived at the studio to find the audience packed. There was only one seat available and it was right behind Drake who was already seated and ready for the live show to start. His attention was on something a young man with a headset at his ear was saying to him. With help from the makeup department he didn’t look gray from the cold he was fighting. He looked full of life except for the bloodshot eyes that he had from the lack of restful sleep.

“Wow! You look so hot.”

I forced a smile for the woman who sat beside me. Hilary wasn’t necessarily beautiful but she was just as hot as she had told me I was. Cheap bottle blonde hair teased high, makeup so thick she must keep the drug stores in business from their cosmetics department alone, and an outfit that was fit more for a strip club than public. She was nice enough but she rubbed me the wrong way no matter how much she tried to kiss my ass.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was only twenty-five and had been screwing my father for the last six weeks if not longer. She didn’t know that I was Cole’s daughter, though. Something I was seriously thankful for because I couldn’t take her ass-kissing in a bigger dose, something that would happen if she found out she needed to impress me before Cole Steel would keep her around for longer than a few months.

“Thanks. You look lovely too,” I told her. Maybe I didn’t like her, but I was always nice to her. I wouldn’t embarrass Drake by being anything but polite and courteous while the world watched on.

“I’m so excited. Kurtis Quinn so deserves to win.” Her fake lashes lowered to veil a lust-filled gaze that went straight to the side of the stage where Kurtis could be seen talking to yet another man in a headset as they prepared to start the show.

“Yeah. He’s got some serious talent.” But I didn’t think she heard me as she mentally fucked the rocker. Gross.

I turned my attention back to Drake whose back was still to me. The man with the headset moved on to Axton who always sat in the middle of the three and I ached to go up there and kiss him. As if sensing my gaze on him he turned in his chair and his eyes instantly zeroed in on me. I waved at him flirtingly and he grinned. Damn, my panties got wet in zero point zero seconds at that grin.

Blowing him the kiss I wished I could give him for real, his eye darkened, but before he could respond the lights dimmed and the producers and crew were calling for quiet on the set. Someone counted down from five and the host was suddenly jumping onto the stage in front of the judges. While the show might have been live it was on a five-minute delay because not only did the judges tend to forget themselves and cuss but the host was far worse in the language department.

Having made a name for himself as a DJ, Wes Shaver had moved up the ranks and had his own show on satellite radio now. Good thing the rock channels on satellite weren’t censored because Wes cussed harder than Emmie having a bitch fit. He had been the first choice for America’s Rocker as the host and he did an amazing job of it. No wonder he was the most popular DJ in the country at the moment.

Halfway through the show I noticed Drake was starting to show how sick he really was. His voice was rough from the sore throat and chest congestion. Axton nudged him a few times because Drake wasn’t paying attention to the guest bands that were headlining the finale and performing with the two finalists. Someone from the sidelines appeared with a mug of something steaming and after a few sips Drake seemed to liven up a little.

Because it was the season finale the show lasted a full two hours with minimal commercial interruption. Fans had voted over the weekend and all the way up to Wednesday so Kurtis and his competition weren’t actually competing tonight. A winner had already been picked we were just waiting for the last fifteen minutes to announce which one it happened to be. My fingers were crossed for Kurtis.

Finally, Wes stood on stage between Kurtis and some guy who scared the shit out of me with not only his Goth makeup but the metal thorns all over his outfit. I hoped no one wanted to hug him while he was wearing that getup because they were liable to be stabbed in the eye or something. All three judges gave the two their last critiques and Cole even went as far as to say he knew that no matter what the results from the voting said, he would always consider Kurtis the true winner of the season.

Leave it to my dad to tell it how it really was. Gods, couldn’t he have been a little more sensitive to the other guy’s feelings? I felt a little bad for the scary dude.

“And the winner of America’s Rocker…” I crossed my fingers and bit my lip, waiting while Wes drew out the heart pounding, life changing results, “…Kurtis Quinn!”

All around me the crowd went crazy. I jumped up with everyone else, shouting and clapping my hands. Another contraction tightened around my middle and I muttered a curse because this one was a lot harsher than the others had been. Yeah, I was so having an epidural.

No! I decided, clenching my jaw as the contraction lingered for a few seconds longer than I was used to. I’d made my birth plan and I was going to stick to it.

It took another hour for the crowd to even start to break up. Axton, Cole, and Drake had gone backstage about thirty minutes ago with Kurtis and the runner up for interviews and pictures. My back was really starting to ache though and I wanted Drake to rub it for me when we got home.

Hilary had long since left her seat beside me and I was the only one still seated. Carefully I stood but stopped as soon as I was on my feet as a pain far more intense than I had ever felt in my life seemed to rip through my lower belly. When I could breathe again I was sweating. “Fuck,” I muttered and pulled out my cellphone so that I could start timing the contractions.