Authors: S.C. Stephens
I flinched, then tentatively put a hand on his arm. “It will be okay, Kellan.”
He snapped his head to me. “I thought I was done being manipulated, but every turn I take another string gets pulled.”
I nodded as I cupped his cheek. His skin was warm, and his eyes were fiery. And damn if it wasn’t attractive as hell. “I know this sucks. Believe me, I know. But . . . Nick may
actually have a point.”
Kellan furrowed his brow, but his anger dissipated a little. “What do you mean?”
Glad that he was calming down, I laced my arms around his neck. “As much as I love Justin and the guys, you are bigger than them. I mean, you’ve already replaced them as the closing
act. You do belong in a stadium.” Smiling, I threaded my fingers through his hair. “And Staples Center, Kellan. That’s . . . as large as it gets.”
Kellan frowned at me. “I like small.” A delightful curve appeared on his mouth. “I like intimate.”
Reaching up to kiss that delicious mouth, I murmured, “I know. But you might like this too. You won’t know for sure if you don’t try.” I shrugged. “Maybe this will
be a good thing.”
Kellan shook his head at me. “I think you’re being naïve again.”
My mind ran through a million horrible scenarios, some probable, like Sienna being a constant thorn in our side, some highly improbable, like the record label lacing Kellan with some designer
drug so that Sienna was able to seduce him for a night. Their drug-induced one-night stand would then result in Sienna getting pregnant with the world’s most anticipated child. Nick would
name her “Platinum.”
I frowned at my imagined scenario. “I’m trying to look on the bright side.”
Kellan let out a long sigh. “Guess we better go tell the guys the ‘good’ news.”
We were all escorted from the venue the very second the D-Bags were done with their performance. The crowd clamored for “Regretfully” just like they always did, but the guys
weren’t given time to do an encore. They weren’t given time to do anything. In fact, they were swept away so fast that Kellan wasn’t able to grab his prized guitar. He worried
about his instrument the entire time we were in the air. I briefly considered joining the mile-high club with him, just to get his mind off of it, but in the end I just told him that his baby was
in good hands.
The limo waiting for us in Los Angeles was impressive. It wasn’t a typical limo, it was a stretch Hummer, a fact that Griffin was nearly epileptic about. After he eagerly climbed in we all
heard, “Oh my God, Kell, you gotta see the bar in here. And there’s totally room for a stripper pole! I’m so getting one of these someday.”
Kellan rolled his eyes at his bassist as he helped me into the gargantuan symbol of affluence—wealth on wheels. The guys had been torn on the news when we’d broken it to them. They
liked Avoiding Redemption and the rest of the bands, but touring with Sienna was a big deal and could open even bigger doors for them. The exposure was going to be off the charts.
Much to my surprise, Sienna was inside the car. She had an open bottle of champagne in her hands and was pouring some into a pair of glasses that Griffin was holding. “Welcome,
loves,” she brightly exclaimed as we took our seats.
Matt and Evan warmly acknowledged her while Kellan only gave her a brief smile. Indicating for Griffin to start passing out the glasses of champagne, Sienna let out a morose sigh. “I am so
very sorry that you were all yanked from your tour like that. Yes, Nick has the right, but as a professional courtesy to the other bands, he shouldn’t have done it.” Looking like she
didn’t understand Nick at all, she shook her head as she finished pouring everyone’s drinks. “I told him he was making a mistake, and he should leave your band alone, but . . .
well, Nick gets carried away sometimes.”
She tossed on a charming, sympathetic smile, but I wasn’t entirely convinced. Her words sounded great, but this benefitted her just as much as Nick, so I would be hard-pressed to believe
that she hadn’t had a hand in it. When we were all holding glasses, Sienna lifted her drink high into the air. “This may not have been the ideal start to our union, but I say we make
the best of it.” She extended her glass out to the middle of the car. “To making this the greatest tour anyone has ever seen.”
Kellan sighed, but he clinked glasses with everyone. After accepting the toast, he seemed lighter. Like me, he probably didn’t believe Sienna, but he agreed with her sentiment. Leaving
Justin sucked, but it was done, and we all might as well move forward.
After taking her sip, Sienna squealed like a little girl. “I can’t wait for you guys to see your bus. You’ll love it. It is
so
much nicer than the one you were
on.”
Kellan looked around at the opulence that he was already surrounded in, but didn’t seem impressed. If Sienna really knew him, then she would understand that her statement didn’t mean
much to Kellan. He didn’t need
things
to be happy.
Even though it was really late—or really early—Sienna insisted on showing us the busses. The lights were off when we approached, but Sienna said the tour had pulled in the night
before and the guys were sleeping at a nearby hotel. That brightened my spirits. Would we get to sleep in hotels from time to time? That was one luxury that Justin’s tour didn’t
have.
Nearly glowing with glee, Sienna gave us a tour of our new home away from home. Walking down the main aisle, she ran a hand over some plush chairs surrounding securely anchored tables. A curved
couch took up a large portion of the “lounging” area, and there was a flat screen TV bolted to the wall in front of it, along with a cabinet nearby overflowing with video games. Sienna
was right, this bus was
much
nicer than the one we’d been on. Showcasing every amenity on the bus in a charming accent that made even the drollest words sound sublime, Sienna led us
to the sleeping area. This bus had cubbies in the wall, just like the last bus, but there weren’t nearly as many, so there was a decent amount of room in each one. I’d say two people
could fit comfortably, if they snuggled.
Since Sienna was squeezing us into a tour that was already in progress, I wondered which bunk Kellan and I would be sleeping in. As I debated if the top bunk was better or worse than the bottom
bunk, Sienna grabbed Kellan’s hand and pulled him through the open curtain that led to the back. Frowning at Kellan’s abduction, I followed them. Past the sleeping cubbies was a
bathroom—with a shower and everything—and a closed door that I had to assume was the back bedroom.
Sienna was standing by the door like Vanna White. Her smile effervescent, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. “For the happy couple,” she murmured, her eyes lingering on
Kellan’s back as he stepped inside.
Kellan reached out a hand for me, and I joined him. The first thing I noticed, besides the fact that this was a hundred times nicer than the glorified cubby we’d slept in on Justin’s
bus, was the windows. All three walls of the back section of the bus were covered in huge, black, one-way glass panels. At least, I hoped they were one-way glass. I could see everything in the
parking lot. Once I got over the openness of the room, the huge bed in the center of it got my attention. A bed . . . we’d be sleeping on an actual bed with a decently supportive mattress!
There was a cabinet near the door for our clothes, and even a TV bolted to the wall. It was almost like our own private studio apartment. I could have hugged Sienna for rearranging things so we
could have this room.
Still dazed at how comfortable Kellan and I might be here, I twisted back to our benefactor. “Thank you, Sienna.”
She waved off my gratitude. “Anything I can do to help.” Lips pursing, she added, “I want this arrangement to work . . . for all parties.” The look on her face radiated
sincerity, and I wanted so badly to believe her. I just . . . didn’t.
Spectacle
I was a bundle of restless energy as I waited for the boys to take the stage. Staples Center. They were playing at Staples Center! This was no small-to-moderately sized venue.
This was an arena, and from what I could tell as I snuck a peek at the audience from backstage, it was sold out. I had no idea how many people that equated to, but I was sure it was in the tens of
thousands. It boggled my mind.
Kellan was fine as he lounged in a chair beside me, sipping on a beer; you would think it was just another night at Pete’s from his breezy attitude. As I played with my necklace, yanking
the guitar pendant from left to right in a repetitious pattern that was surely weakening the thin chain, Kellan had a lazy conversation with Deacon, the lead singer of Sienna’s other opening
act, Holeshot. They’d been the only act until Nick had appropriated the D-Bags from Avoiding Redemption’s tour.
Kellan’s eyes were amused as he watched me while shooting the shit with Deacon. Since my nerves where slowly eating holes through my stomach, I jumped to my feet and started pacing. Kellan
and Deacon both watched me, entertained expressions on their faces. Deacon’s band had a song on the radio too, but it wasn’t doing nearly as well as Kellan’s single with Sienna.
Deacon didn’t seem too upset that the D-Bags had been added onto the tour at the last minute, cutting into his set time. If anything, Deacon just seemed happy to have some guys to hang out
with. Good thing, since the two bands were sharing a bus for the next several months.
I watched Kellan and Deacon as they chatted about music. The pair were night-and-day different. Kellan had light brown, shaggy, bed-head hair. Deacon’s was black, and longer than mine,
nearly to his waist. Kellan had dark blue eyes, like the evening sky. Deacon’s were so light blue they were almost white. While Kellan kept himself clean-shaven, Deacon had a neatly trimmed
goatee. But about music, the two seemed equally matched.
Luckily, I had plenty of room to pace, and I made the most of it. One thing I’d noticed right away on this tour was that the security here was much tighter than the last one. On that tour,
the backstage area had seemed like a frat house—women, booze, and rock and roll. This was a lot more regimented. A group of fans had met with the boys earlier after the sound check. Tory,
handler extraordinaire, had been there to give the fans strict instructions on what they could and couldn’t do with the rock stars. While the boys were busy onstage, Tory had barked at the
group of radio contest winners like a drill sergeant until they were all docile and submissive. Listening to her go off on them had shocked me, and honestly, her “rules” made the whole
affair awkward, for Kellan and the fans. In my opinion, if Tory had just let the bands and fans mingle organically like the other tour, it would have been a much more rewarding experience for both
parties. She didn’t seem to understand that the boys needed the fans just as much as the fans needed them.
The only people backstage now were press, staff of the venue, roadies for the tour, and band members. In the dressing room where we were waiting, it was just the three of us. For some reason,
the lack of people around was making me even more anxious for Kellan.
Deacon pointed at me with a long finger. “Is she always this nervous?”
Kellan smiled at me around the beer bottle he held to his mouth. “Pretty much,” he answered after he swallowed.
The door opened to the room, and a man wearing a headset popped his head in and looked at Deacon. “Show’s starting, sir. You’re up.”
Deacon nodded at him, then stood and stretched. “Catch you guys on the flip side.”
Kellan nodded at him, then turned his attention to me once he was gone. “Would you sit down, please?”
I pressed the palms of my hands over my stomach, trying to stop the butterflies from taking flight. “Aren’t you nervous? Even a little bit?”
Kellan took another swig of beer. “Well, watching
you
is making me a little nervous.” Setting his drink down on a nearby table, he patted his lap. “Come over here and
help me relax.”
Smirking, I walked over to him. He didn’t have a nervous bone in his body. Not about this, anyway. This, Kellan could do naked in front of a million people and be just fine. There was
something seriously wrong with him.
I straddled his lap, tangling my hands in his hair. Maybe his calm would seep into me, if we got close enough. I placed a light kiss on his lips and Kellan let out a soft laugh. “There, I
feel better already.”
Loving the fact that we were surrounded by people and yet completely alone inside this dressing room, I ground my hips into his, and let my soft kiss turn into a deeper one. He let out a low
groan and ran his hands up my back, under my shirt. I pressed my chest against his, delighting in the smell of him, musky and manly, the taste of him, slightly bitter from the beer, the feel of
him, warm, hard, and yet soft too. Feeling lost and carefree, I let the world around us melt away.
Kellan’s fingers rubbed my back in soothing patterns while his tongue lightly brushed against mine. Then those tricky fingers of his unhooked my bra. Pulling back, I gave him an
admonishing glare; we may be alone for now, but this place wasn’t exactly private. His grin was cocky as he murmured, “Oops.”
As I was reaching around to fix my bra, the door to our room opened again. I leapt off of Kellan’s lap, twisting so that my back was to the far wall; I incorrectly latched the hook of my
bra and had to try again. As my cheeks heated to flaming hot, Sienna sauntered into the room.
Glancing between the two of us, she asked, “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”
Smiling over at me, Kellan told her, “Don’t worry about it. We’re getting used to it.”
Sienna laughed and sat down in a plush chair. “That’s a story I’d like to hear.”
My bra finally back in place, I took a seat beside Kellan. My nerves started returning, and I bounced my heels to dissipate the energy. Holeshot had started to play, and their music filtered
through the speakers. They were pretty good. Not as good as the D-Bags, but good. Kellan looked back at Sienna when she asked him, “You ready for this?”