Untwisted Read Online Free Page A

of emotions that seemed way too close to the surface lately. She wanted to blame her hormones. Hell, she’d blame the phases of the moon if she could. Anything was better than realizing that with every passing day of her pregnancy, her family was creeping back into her thoughts. Her family, not Gray’s, though she missed them too in spite of everything that had happened between them. Her mama.
    And Molly.
    Bringing a new life into the world was something to share with those you were close to. She hadn’t been close to her birth family in too many years to count but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss them. It didn’t mean she didn’t hope way down deep that maybe someday they could be reunited.
    “Stupid, foolish romantic heart,” she said under her breath. She hurried into the bathroom and shed her clothes before she could be tempted to dig out Molly’s letter again. She would open it when she was ready.
    She would be soon. Maybe. Possibly.
    She carried her bath stuff to the tub, then added a bunch of bubbles before slipping into the water. The surprisingly cool spring day had make her fantasize about a hot soak all evening. Naturally she’d wished Gray would be home to join her, but as that wasn’t in the cards, she was going to have a fine time on her own.
    After sighing her way through the first few steamy minutes, she fumbled for the expensive pair of waterproof headphones she’d bought for this very purpose. She turned on her waterproof radio, setting it to the classical channel before shifting around so her belly poked through the bubbles.
    “You ready for the nightly concert, kiddo? Sorry about the noise earlier. Mommy screwed up her part so she had to keep doing it over and over. I bet you probably hate ‘Monster’ now. Me too, but it’ll be kickass live. Uh, I mean kickbutt.” She cast a glance skyward and sent up a quick apology. Lord, this parenting thing wasn’t easy, and she hadn’t even gone through childbirth yet. “Anyway, this music is much more suitable for bedtime. If it doesn’t put you to sleep, I don’t know what will.”
    Carefully, she placed the padded headphones on either side of her slightly rounded belly and turned up the volume until she could just barely hear the strains of Chopin. Supposedly babies who were exposed to classical music in the womb were much more likely to be prodigies. She didn’t care if her child was a prodigy. All she wanted was for him or her to be smart and happy and know how much he or she was loved. So very loved.
    If the kid happened to be born loving music, that would be a plus.
    She tipped her head backward against her little inflatable bath pillow and closed her eyes. God, she was so tired. Exhausted. Worrying all day about the Molly thing and then the stupid not-quite-an-argument with Gray and his subsequent radio silence had worn her down. She knew he was probably just working. He’d told her he was, and she believed him.
    She’d believed him before too.
    Goose bumps flared over her pinkening skin and she rubbed them away, unwilling to go down that path. He’d kicked the drugs. He’d gotten treatment and he was committed to his sobriety. Borrowing trouble never did anyone any favors.
    Maybe if she slept for a bit, when she woke up, Gray would be there.
    But what if he wasn’t?

CHAPTER TWO

    Gray walked into the bedroom he shared with Jazz at Oblivion’s rented house in the Hollywood Hills, his head buzzing with chords and lyrics. That was his favorite part about all-day and night sessions. If he kept at it, eventually the music hijacked his consciousness and everyday life became superfluous. Problems faded away. Paying bills and forgetting to pick up a card for a birthday or to drop off the dry cleaning—ha, as if the band got stuff dry cleaned—all ceased to be important.
    Luckily he’d found that was still true for him even when he wasn’t creating the music on his guitar, but with his pen. In the short time he’d been farming out