Reckless (24 page)

“He had to ask for your permission? How . . . quaint.” Her amusement was evident. Sienna Sexton probably didn’t ask permission for anything.

I hesitated, not really wanting to defend Kellan’s actions. And that wasn’t really the point of my phone call anyway. “Well, the fact that he’s agreed to do it is all
that’s important. But, I just wanted to know . . .” I inhaled a deep breath.
Here goes nothing
. “Did I make a mistake encouraging him to film an intimate scene with you?
You’re used to getting what you want. Woman to woman, be honest with me . . . do you want my husband?”

There was a long pause on Sienna’s end. My stomach twisted into a knot that I was positive I would never be able to untangle as I waited for her to say yes. When she did, it came as no
surprise. “Yes, I do . . . but not in the way you think.” I blinked. That
did
surprise me. Call me naïve, but what other way was there?

Sienna continued before I could ask. “My career has hit a . . . stalling point. I need Kellan to refuel it. Being in the tabloids with him just this short while has done wonders for me.
I’ve already received collaboration offers from other musicians, and just yesterday, I was handed a movie script.” As her words sank in, she added, “So, yes, I want him . . .
desperately . . . but only for the buzz.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“Did you need anything else from me, love?”

My mind still spinning, I told her, “No . . . that was it. Thank you for being honest.”

“Sure thing. Ta-ta!” She clicked off the line, and I stared at Kellan’s phone for long seconds. Did I believe her? Could I trust her? Only time would tell.

There was an energy in the air the night before the single was to be released; it even alleviated Kellan’s qualms about his upcoming sex scene with another woman. It was
a tangible feeling that invigorated the band. Like kids waiting for Christmas morning, they were all giddy, excited, restless. As usual, the guys burned off their excess energy by tormenting
Griffin. While I feverishly worked on my book, the boys played one of the Halo games. Without verbalizing it, Griffin somehow became everybody’s “target.” There were a lot of
swear words flying around as Griffin slowly lost his cool.

“Quit fucking killing me, Matt!”

Eyes glued to the screen, the blond guitarist did his best to not smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“Evan, dude! You nailed me in the head!”

Evan also tried not to smile. “Oops, my bad.”

“Kellan, Jesus Christ! Learn to fucking aim!”

Kellan wasn’t as successful at hiding his glee as his band mates started laughing. Griffin threw down his controller. “You guys suck!”

He stormed off to his room, and everybody started laughing. They stopped when Griffin reappeared a minute later with two full-sized Super Soakers. “Die, fuckers!” he yelled before
letting loose on the four of us.

I screamed and covered my laptop as best I could. The guys let out surprised exclamations and took off, each one darting toward a different point of retreat. Griffin let out a maniacal laugh,
then took off after Matt, who’d dashed downstairs. Evan emerged from his room, bucket of water balloons in hand. At least, I hoped they were water balloons this time. He chased after Griffin,
letting out a fierce battle cry as he went. Laughing, Kellan followed after him, eager to join the assault. I shook my head as I listened to the chaos.
Men.

There was yelling, banging, cursing, and at one point, Griffin loudly exclaimed, “The hose is cheating, Kellan!”

When they finally resurfaced forty-five minutes later, each and every one of them was soaked. Setting my laptop on the table beside me, I crossed my arms and murmured, “If you think
I’m cleaning up the mess you just made downstairs, you’re dead wrong.”

Smirking, Kellan shook his head. Water droplets fell from his hair, shirt, and his pants. “Don’t worry, the maid comes in the morning.”

With that, he twisted his body and revealed the bucket behind his back. I had just enough time to tell him, “Don’t you dare!” before he flung the contents at me, drenching me
with ice cold water.

Screaming, I shot up off the couch. “You are so freaking dead, Kellan Kyle!”

Griffin pursed his lips as I ran past him to get to my soon-to-be-deceased husband. “Oh, she gets feisty when she’s angry. That’s hot!”

Needless to say, we all stayed up much too late, considering the boys had a radio show interview at the crack of dawn the next day. Then after the interview, we were immediately getting on a
plane to start the first leg of the D-Bags’ chaotic promo tour for their album.
Ready or not, let the madness begin.

When we all ambled downstairs in the morning, bags in hand, Nick was already there waiting. Lifting an eyebrow, he asked, “All ready?” Kellan nodded, yawning. His
yawn contagious, I yawned too. Nick smiled at us, then indicated a woman to his right. She was a tall, leggy blonde who was dressed as posh as he was. Her face was stern, cold, impassive, not much
in the way of warmth. “This is Tory. She’ll be your handler for all of the media interviews.”

Tory extended her hand to Kellan. “Nice to officially meet you. Nick has told me many nice things,” she said. While her face remained expressionless, her eyes darted down his
body.

Kellan shook her hand, asking Nick, “A handler?”

Tory answered his implied question about what a handler was and why he needed one. “I’m the one that lined up all of your interviews. I’ll be checking you in for each one, and
letting the interviewers know which questions you won’t be allowing. I will also end the interview if I feel they are not respecting the label’s wishes.”

Kellan frowned. “The label’s wishes. Not mine, then?”

Tory cracked a smile. “Nick has requested that you not talk about your personal life.” Her steely blue eyes shifted to mine, and the implication was all too clear.
Do not mention
that you’re married.

Kellan snapped his head to Nick. “You don’t want me to talk about my wife? So when they ask what’s going on with Sienna and me, I’m supposed to say . . . ?” He
raised his hands in the air to punctuate his lingering question.

Nick gave him a calm smile. “You tell them no comment, and let them stew on that any way they want to.”

Kellan dropped his hands. “‘No comment’? I might as well tell them I’m screwing her brains out on a daily basis.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m not asking you to lie, I’m merely asking you not to respond, and not to divulge any . . . unnecessary information.” His brow arched in challenge.
“Think you can handle that?”

The guys all gave Kellan cautious glances while I grabbed his hand. If Kellan didn’t deny the rumors that were already beginning to run rampant, then he would be, in essence, confirming
them. He was already bothered by the risqué music video he’d agreed to shoot with Sienna. Even though abstaining from talking about his personal life was nowhere near the realm of him
sticking his tongue down another woman’s throat, somehow this seemed just as intrusive. I wasn’t sure what he would say to Nick.

Nick seemed unsure as well, adding, “We’re expecting this single to reach number one. When your album releases in a few weeks, I wouldn’t be surprised if it debuts in the top
twenty. All of that is due, in large part, to the fact that the public has a soft spot for you and Sienna together. You’ve become a couple in their eyes, and that sort of publicity cannot be
bought. When your video hits the market, the buzz around you two will be out of this world. And if we don’t take advantage of that, ride the tidal wave while it lasts, we’ll lose the
momentum and your album will sink like a rock to the low hundreds. It’s a very crowded market, jammed-pack full of talented, gorgeous individuals, such as yourself. Do you want to start your
career on top of them, or on the bottom of them . . . crushed into the oblivion of obscurity?” His face smug, he raised a shoulder in a seemingly unaffected way. “The choice is
yours.”

While he looked like he didn’t care, his tone of voice made it very clear that he did. It was also very clear that the choice wasn’t Kellan’s at all. The choice was
Nick’s, and he’d already decided Kellan’s fate.

Jaw tight, Kellan said nothing. Not sure what Kellan should do, I gripped his hand tighter in silent support.

Belongings in tow, we headed outside to where a pair of gigantic, solid black SUVs with dark tinted windows were waiting. I thought the twin vehicles looked a little conspicuous, like we were
spies or government agents . . . Men in Black. If the company was going for subtle transportation, they would have been better off hiring a stretch limo in this town. But if they wanted everyone to
wonder who was inside, then I guess they made the right choice.

One of the drivers greeted us and opened the rear door of an SUV before leaning over to pick up our bags. Kellan tried to help him, but was politely shooed away. Our driver was wearing a crisp
suit, and even though it was early in the day, he had on dark aviator sunglasses. He and the other driver stuffed bags and instruments into both vehicles while we climbed in. Griffin immediately
grabbed the front seat while Matt and Evan took the middle row. Kellan and I climbed into the third row; it was a little cramped, but still comfortable. The inside of the vehicle was
luxurious—digital controls on everything, tan leather that was soft as silk, and light and dark wood inlays along the dash, console, and door frames that created an eye-catching pattern when
taken in as a whole. It had that new car smell, like it had been detailed recently. Despite its size, it was a nice ride.

Thankfully, Nick and Tory got into the matching vehicle in front of us. When all of our stuff was packed away and settled, the driver climbed into the car and we were off. The vehicle buzzed
with excitement, and not just because of the upcoming radio interview—the guys were stoked about what Nick had said in the house, that the album could debut in the top twenty.

Matt and Evan twisted to face Kellan. “Do you think he’s right? Do you really think we’ll debut that high?”

Kellan shrugged, his face impassive. “I don’t know, maybe.” His voice was small as he turned his head to stare out the window; he was right beside me, but he seemed a million
miles away.

From the front, Griffin shouted, “Hell, yeah, we’ll debut in the top twenty! Number one with a bullet, baby!”

Matt and Evan turned back around and leaned forward to have a conversation with their more eager band mate. Kellan sighed and laid his head against the glass. Concerned, I rested my chin on his
shoulder. “Hey, you all right?”

Lifting his head, Kellan wistfully gazed at his friends. “I just . . . I wish I could be as excited about this as they are.” He looked down at me, his brow furrowed. “I feel
like I’m letting them down, because I’m not enjoying this.”

I clasped his hand with both of mine, clicking my wedding ring over his. “It’s different for you than it is for them. The label is asking you to do uncomfortable things. They
understand. Well, Matt and Evan understand.” I gave him a small grin, hoping to lighten his mood.

The corner of his lip twitched up, then he frowned. Scrunching down so our heads were closer together, he lowered his voice. “It’s just so . . . fabricated. I don’t see why
there has to be all this hoopla-crap about some sordid imaginary romance. I just wish that the record and the music were enough to stand on their own. If we’re going to make it, I want it to
be because we’re good, not because people are enamored with . . . my personal life.” He frowned, like the idea of him being this ideal, desirable, rock-god dreamboat was absurd, like he
still didn’t see why anyone would want more than a fleeting moment of passion with him. It wasn’t absurd. He
was
a desirable boyfriend, a desirable husband. But I did see
Kellan’s point.

“And it
will
be about the music, Kellan. The high debut may be because of your celebrity status, but the album will stay there because you guys are amazing—one of the best
bands I’ve ever heard.”

Kellan cocked his brow. “One of?” I rolled my eyes at him and Kellan glanced up at the other D-Bags. “They’ve stood by me through so much.” He looked back at me,
sorrow in his eyes. “They were my family when I had . . . nobody. Literally nobody. And when I left everything in Los Angeles to move back to Seattle, they gave up everything we had down
there to follow me, to stand by my side.” He ran a hand over his face. “I owe them so much.”

Dropping his hand, he stared at his lap. “We would have gotten signed ages ago if we’d stayed in L.A. I took this life from them once. I won’t do it again.” Sighing, he
looked up at me. “I owe them the chance to be big, to really make it in this business. And Nick is right about one thing. It’s a packed industry, and Matt, Evan, Griffin—they
don’t have anything else to fall back on. It’s this or nothing for them, so . . .”

Seeing where he was going, I murmured, “So . . . no comment?”

Kellan nodded. “I don’t want you to be offended, or worried, or hurt. And I’m not having an affair, or even interested in having an affair. If all I have to do to make a . . .
splash . . . is film a video and keep my mouth shut during interviews, then I owe them that much.”

Inhaling a big breath, I considered the ramifications of Kellan’s silence. The world would think he was with Sienna. There would be so much gossip about them, I probably wouldn’t be
able to escape it. I’d be bombarded with tales of elicit rendezvous, endless secret weddings, and a plethora of pregnancy rumors. But they would just be rumors. And Kellan wouldn’t be
anywhere near her. Ignoring his scandalous public persona but still getting the warm, affectionate man behind it all seemed like a fair compromise. I’d never wanted to be in his spotlight
anyway.

“I understand, and it’s okay.”

Kellan blinked. “It is? If someone asks me if I’m married to Sienna,” he lifted our laced together wedding rings for emphasis, “and I say nothing, that’s
okay?”