Chapter 24: Nice Guys Take Wrong Turns

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Adam, later that night, after the show

Mac is sleeping on my chest. I don't know how it can be comfortable for her—she fell asleep right after sex and she's literally straddling me, slumped on top of me, her head heavy against my heart. I can't sleep like this, but I don't want to move her until she's deeply asleep. It's so hard for her to sleep sometimes. The fact that she's drifted off during our post-sex murmurings tells me more than anything, that's she's ok—happy even—about the pregnancy.

Still, my mind is fucking blown. I guess it wasn't real to me before. Not like it was to her. I didn't feel that "soul-knowing" that she's been living with for two weeks. It's probably still not real to me—not like it is to her.

Seeing pregnant on that test...it hit me hard.

Don't get me wrong, I am surprisingly happy. It was definitely not in my plans to be a baby-daddy at twenty-four, but shit happens and you deal. Life gives you the broken condom and you take it like a man, not a boy. You let go of the crazy life and you love the little life you made like crazy. You don't make-up excuses; you make-up lullabies. And if you love the woman you created an accidental miracle with like I love Mac, then you work your ass off to make a second miracle—a beautiful life together, a family.

It feels like my whole world is right here, snuggled on my chest. My mind is on a loop track of prayer—gratitude and constant petition.

Thank you. Thank you for giving Mac the faith to refuse that pill I kept trying to get her to take. God, help me not make the same mistake again. Help me be what they need. Help me keep them safe and healthy and happy.

I don't want to do anything but keep my arms around my Shorty and our Babycakes.

But the problem is...my whole world is not here in my arms. There's Soundcrush. There's my family back home. I have to figure out how to shift everything now. Mac and the babycakes have shot to top of the priority list forever. Mac can't be crowded, not now, not with her PTSD. So all those other priorities, responsibilities, obligations...somehow I have to figure out how to keep them pushed back. I need to protect her space.

And that's going to be a challenge.

Soundcrush is exactly like a family...all up in each other's business. All that shit Trace said about the tour—he's right on. It's going to be a big fucking shitstorm, and I don't think Trace will pull any punches about being unhappy about it. Trace doesn't treat Mac with the kind of deference I do, or that Leed does or even Bodie. Trace and Mac are song-writing partners—creative and business partners—and their friendship is sort of...secondary.

I think probably Trace was attracted to Mac back at the very beginning. Who wouldn't be? She's fucking gorgeous and talented and bad-ass. But because he had his KitKat growing up  at home that he felt so much more for, and because Mac and I got started up so fast, Trace worked really hard to see her as nothing more than one of the guys

He succeeded in spades. They go at it just like us guys. He's maybe been a little more careful with her since she was assaulted, but when the shit hits the fan with Dawes and the label and the promoters, Trace is accustomed to being brutally honest and transparent in his opinions with Mac.

He maybe won't see Mac like I see her right now...as being in a vulnerable position.

Even though I know Mac is completely capable of holding her own in a professional sense, this is different. This is not a dispute about our musical direction, or what songs go on the album, or what brands to endorse, or a video concept. 

Her pregnancy will be the issue, and that's a very personal issue. I can't take the chance that anyone will hurt Mac in the process of sorting out how it affects the band. I can't have Dawes or the label or the promoter execs—or even Trace— throwing down with my woman, now that she's pregnant with our child, and battling PTSD.

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