Reckless (14 page)

Joey shrugged as she adjusted her short skirt. “Whatever, I was just offering you an advance screening to the movie of the year.”

She spun on her heel to leave. Outraged, embarrassed, and mortified for Kellan, I stepped forward and blurted, “Are you really going to sell that? I mean, you’re on it too. Do you
really want a bunch of skeezy guys entertaining themselves with your private life?”

Joey stopped on the sidewalk and turned her dark head to glare at me. “If it means I’m set for life, then yes.” Raising one edge of her lip, she added, “Besides,
I’ll be forever linked to a rich and famous rock star. I’ll be famous, and what could be better than that?”

I shook my head, not understanding the desire to be famous, regardless of the price. Here I was, trying to find a way to stay out of Kellan’s spotlight, while Joey was perfectly fine with
selling her skin to find a way into it. How sadly desperate she must be to crave attention so much she’d do just about anything to get it. Oddly enough, my anger faded as I stared at her in
stunned silence. While Joey waited for some response from me, all I felt for her was pity.

Retreating to the warmth of my home with Kellan, I told her, “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Joey.” Not expecting me to react that way, her brow was deeply pointed in
confusion as I shut the door on her.

I woke up with a feeling in my chest that bordered on delirium. Today was Friday, my last day in Seattle. By this afternoon, I’d be in Kellan’s arms in Los Angeles.
I couldn’t wait. I bounded out of my makeshift bed and nearly tripped over the girlfriends sprawled around the living room floor.

Jenny groaned when I bumped her elbow, but she didn’t wake up. Giddy, I hurried upstairs to take a shower and get ready to go. Anna was picking me up soon, and I wanted to be fresh and
sparkling clean for my reunion with Kellan. It had only been a couple of weeks since he’d left me, but it felt like an eternity. That always happened when he went away. Time’s
continuity seemed to depend on Kellan’s proximity to me—the farther away he was, the longer time stretched.

When I emerged from the shower, I smelled the heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee. My mouth watered at the smell, and Kellan was instantly in my mind . . . not that he’d ever really
left. He was usually somewhere in the back of my brain, but coffee always brought him right to the forefront.

After I was dressed and ready to go, I grabbed my bags and hurried downstairs to set them by the front door. Most of the girls were awake by then, rubbing their eyes, sipping on mugs of coffee
while they started putting their stuff back together. Jenny gave me a one-armed hug as she held a travel mug of coffee out for me. “Anna just called. She’s on her way.”

I nodded as I took a sip—it burned my tongue a little but it was gloriously creamy. Jenny glanced around at the still-full living room. “I’ll make sure the girls get home, then
lock up the house before I leave.”

Her words reminding me of something, I dug through my bag to find my key ring. After freeing it from the book I was hoping to read on the plane, I flipped through the keys until I found the one
for the Chevelle. “Can you do me a favor today?” Jenny nodded as I handed her the key to Kellan’s baby. “I made arrangements with the auto body shop below Evan’s loft.
They’re going to garage the Chevelle for me until I come back. Can you drop off Babe-ette?”

Jenny smirked at my nickname for Kellan’s car. “Sure thing. Rachel and I will drop it off this afternoon.”

Rachel came over to stand by Jenny and rested a tired head on her shoulder. We’d stayed up way too late last night. The exotic beauty let out a loud yawn, and Jenny sympathetically patted
her dark head. Her almond eyes blinked at me a moment, then she lifted her head. In a quiet voice, Rachel asked, “Would you mind saying hello to Matt for me? And telling him . . . I wish I
could be there with him?”

The demure girl bit her lip, and a light flush tinted her tanned cheeks. I immediately told her I would. I knew exactly how it felt to be kept apart from the person you loved. It sucked. But
Matt and Rachel seemed to have the long distance thing down pat, and I felt pretty good about them making it through the crazy lifestyle the boys had—or were about to have.

I also felt good about Evan and Jenny’s relationship. Looking over to my best friend, I told her, “And I’ll give Evan a great big bear hug for you.”

Jenny gave me a wide smile, then reached into her back pocket. She pulled out a lime green box of candy that had been flattened and folded into thirds. With a mischievous grin, she handed it to
me. “Can you give him this too?”

Curious, I unfolded what turned out to be a box of Jujubes. As I refolded the box, I asked, “You want me to give him your garbage?”

Jenny started giggling. “Don’t worry, he’ll get it.”

I tucked the box in my bag, wondering just what inside joke I was being the messenger of. Well, however I could help was fine by me. Evan and Jenny were my rock star role model couple after
all.

Cheyenne and Kate came over to give me goodbye hugs. As Kate pulled away, she said, “Hey, Justin is in L.A. right now. If you happen to see him, will you tell him I said . . .
hey?”

She laughed, and her springy ponytail bounced around her shoulders. Justin was the lead singer of a band that was already pretty big—Avoiding Redemption. The five-man group had been the
ones to “discover” the D-Bags, inviting them along on their sold out tour. Kellan’s band got noticed by the industry while on that tour. In fact, Justin’s label was the
label that had scooped up the D-Bags. Kate had a thing for Justin, and I think Justin had a thing for her as well. Ever since the pair had met, they’d been texting each other on a regular
basis. Her golden brown eyes sparkled with excitement when I told her I’d keep a lookout for him.

Just as the doorbell rang, Cheyenne wrapped me in a hug. “You keep your pretty little butt safe down there, ya hear?”

I chuckled at her as Jenny opened the door for my sister. My chuckle died as Anna stormed into the room. She dramatically tossed her bag onto the half-moon table in the entryway.
“It’s times like these that I really wish I could drink,” she murmured.

“Problem?” Jenny asked as she shut the door.

Anna looked over her shoulder. “Besides the fact that I’m going to kill that fucker when I get to L.A.?”

No one needed to ask who the fucker in question was. Pursing her lips, Jenny asked, “What . . . did he do?” Her face was blank, like there was no answer on earth that would shock
her. I understood that feeling. Really, a better question for Jenny to ask would have been,
What
didn’t
Griffin do?

Knowing what Anna’s problem was, I sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal, Anna.”

She glared at me. The rest of the girls looked at me with shocked expressions. I didn’t usually defend Griffin. “A boy, Kiera. He gave me a boy. All I asked out of this entire . . .
fiasco
was for him to give me a little girl, but the idiot couldn’t even get that right.”

Frowning, I told her, “It’s not like he can control—”

Her icy stare stopped my voice. As the other girls caught on to the source of Anna’s vexation, Kate gushed, “Oh my God! You’re having a little boy—congratulations! Boys
are so a . . . dor . . . able.” Kate’s voice faltered as Anna’s glare shifted to her.

There was a moment of silence, then Jenny cautiously said, “I’m sure it will turn out fine.” Anna started tapping her foot, and Jenny shrugged and gave up. “You’re
right, Griffin’s a tool.”

Anna immediately brightened. “I know! Right?” I had to shake my head at Anna as she went off on her boyfriend for a solid five minutes. Sometimes you just want someone to blindly
agree with you, no matter what the problem is. And even if Anna was blowing her predicament
way
out of proportion, none of us was going to argue with the fact that Griffin was indeed a
tool.

Eventually Anna simmered down enough to say goodbye to everyone and help me get my stuff into Denny’s old Honda. Well, okay, she supervised while I packed my bags into the car. I had two
of them, which I thought was pretty modest for an open-ended stay. Anna had three stuffed bags and a carry-on that pushed the boundaries of acceptably fitting into the overhead compartment.

Just as I was settling into my seat and the flight attendant told us to turn off our electrical devices, my cell phone buzzed. Thinking it was Kellan, since I’d just
texted him to let him know we were about to leave, I discretely checked the phone. I smiled, seeing a message from Denny on the screen.
I’ll miss you, mate. Good luck, and be
careful.

I had to shake my head at Denny’s never-ending thoughtfulness. I almost showed the message to Anna, to maybe change her mind about Denny, but she would look at the text and immediately
assume I’d slept with him the other night. Not wanting to defend my innocence again, I turned my phone off and tucked it into my bag.

The flight to Los Angeles wasn’t long, but I bounced my feet, played with my guitar-shaped necklace, and worried my lip the entire time we were in the air. I even tried writing a little,
but I couldn’t concentrate enough and eventually put my notebook away. I just wanted to be with Kellan already. My heart was hammering in my chest when the plane touched down, and I think I
was breathing harder when we finally taxied into position. Anna snorted and told me, “Calm down, horn dog.” But I couldn’t calm down. And I wasn’t horny or anything, I just
. . . needed him.

It was a free-for-all to exit the plane, so I grabbed my bag and darted for the door before Anna had even stood up. Even though we were seated near the middle of the plane, I was the second
person to leave. Nerves skittered around my belly as I sprinted up the ramp. I wasn’t sure how I’d spot Kellan in the sea of travelers and visitors in this massive airport. I supposed I
could text him if I didn’t spot him right away in baggage claim.

I burst through the corridor toward the waiting area for visitors. I took one brief sweep of the crowd eagerly waiting for friends and loved ones, then I started laughing. Kellan was standing
front and center with his arms extended into the air like John Cusack in
Say Anything.
Only, he wasn’t holding a boombox blaring Peter Gabriel. No, Kellan was proudly holding a sign
that read—in embarrassingly large black letters—MRS. KELLAN KYLE.

I should have known that Kellan wouldn’t be hard to spot. Even without the sign, he stuck out.

I let out a strangled laugh-sob as I rushed over to him. I just couldn’t believe I was finally with him—and I wasn’t leaving this time. Kellan barely had time to drop the sign
and catch me as I leapt into his arms. I buried my head in his neck, wrapped my legs around his waist, and held on as tight as I could. His masculine, clean, intoxicating scent hit me as his warm
hands caressed my back. My jittery nerves instantly evaporated. I was there. We were together.

I pulled back when I felt low laughter vibrating my chest. Kellan was beaming as he stared up at me. Maybe it was my imagination, but his midnight blue eyes seemed to be even deeper in color,
his lashes longer. Even the curve of his amused smile was more sensual than I recalled. I didn’t know it was possible, but he’d become even more attractive in my short absence.

“Miss me?” he murmured, leaning up in a gesture that clearly said,
I want to feel your lips.

Grinning, I obliged him. Even his mouth was sweeter, more tender. When his tongue flashed against mine and his hand sneaked down to my backside, I suddenly remembered that we were in a very
public place, a place swarming with young, innocent eyes.

Squirming, I broke free from his grasp and set my feet on the ground. He frowned at me; if it was possible, his pout was even more adorable than his smile. “Hey, I was enjoying
that.”

“Yeah, I know.” I rested my hand against his stomach, and he reached up to grab my fingers; his frown instantly disappeared. He chuckled and bent down to pick up his welcome sign. I
had to resist the urge to run my fingers through his impossibly sexy, shaggy, bed-head hair. When he straightened, I pointed to the ostentatious placard in his hand. “I like your
sign.”

He grinned. “I thought you might.”

Reading it again as it dangled by his hip, I frowned. “But, just so you know, I’m not going by Mrs.
Kellan
Kyle. It’s too old-fashioned.”

Kellan glanced at the poster board by his thigh, then looked back up at me. “What? It’s endearing to take your husband’s full name, isn’t it?” His thumb reached up
to brush my wedding ring as he said
husband,
and the pride he felt at me being his wife was clear on his features.

“It’s sexist, Kellan. I have my own name. I don’t need to assume yours.” I smoothed my hand over the soft, black cotton covering his pecs. To make my point, I traced the
scripted letters of my name along the hidden tattoo above his heart. Kellan shuddered and his eyes started to blaze. “Just your last name,” I whispered.

Kellan’s sultry gaze drifted to my mouth. His lips parted, and as I watched, enraptured, he flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, then slowly dragged his teeth along the plump skin. It
was distracting, to say the least.

Just as I was wondering how much PDA we could get away with before being carted off by the TSA, a loud voice erupted over the cacophony of the airport din. “Thanks, Kiera! I nearly gave
birth trying to get my carry-on down!”

Kellan and I both looked back at my red-faced sister. As she stomped toward us, she huffed at a stray strand of hair that was dangling close to her eye. It was an exaggerated expression that
screamed to everyone around her that she was put out. Kellan dropped my hand and took a step toward her. “I guess I should help.”

“Is Griffin here?” I whispered, looking around for the bassist. I was sure he knew Anna was coming with me.

Kellan paused and ran a hand through his hair. “He . . . decided to wait at the house.” He shrugged in apology.