Reckless (36 page)

Kellan picked up his beer, showed it to her, then took a swig. “All set.” Sienna grinned and shook her head, amused by him; I sort of hated her being amused by him.

Kellan and Sienna fell into a lively discussion about music. While he didn’t enjoy the games Sienna played, I don’t think he minded her as a person. When she started talking about
her parents, Kellan got quiet. Her face void of emotion, Sienna told him, “They would be screaming in my face right now, if they were still allowed at my shows. A little terrified . . .
that’s how they liked to send me out on stage.”

Kellan’s expression turned thoughtful. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thank you.” Sienna reached over and put a hand on his leg. My nerves about the show suddenly vanished as I watched her flirt with him. “What are your parents like? Warm and
fuzzy?” she asked with a smile.

Politely, but firmly, Kellan picked up her hand and placed it back on her own lap. She frowned, but didn’t say anything. Leaning back in his chair, Kellan took another drink of his beer.
“No, definitely not.” Setting his beer down, he shrugged. “But, I don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

I laid my hand on his chest and Kellan smiled down at me. I knew that casual sentence was filled with more pain than Sienna could possibly imagine. I lifted my lips to his, in comfort, and as a
reminder to Sienna:
He may sympathize with you, but his heart is with me
. As Kellan gave me a brief peck, Sienna commented with, “Family. It’s not all it’s cracked up to
be.”

Thinking of my flighty sister, over-protective father, and wedding-obsessed mother, I tossed out, “My family is great.”

Sienna’s sad smile turned humoring. “I’m sure it is.” Her dark eyes flicked between Kellan and I. “So, will you two be creating a family of your own? Any kids in
your future?” Her gaze locked onto my stomach.

Pulling my legs up onto the chair, I hid my body as much as I could. “Someday, sure.”

Kellan bumped my shoulder with his. “Maybe after we’re officially married.” He hesitated, then looked up at Sienna. “Which, just so you know, is happening on December
twenty-seventh, when the tour is on break for Christmas.” Luckily Sienna’s and Justin’s tours were breaking for the holiday at the same time. If I’d had to change the
wedding date after Mom had already sent out the invitations, she’d skin me alive.

Sienna’s lips twitched, but she very smoothly told us, “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order.” She looked like she wanted to hug Kellan to congratulate him, but the way
Kellan and I were cuddling really wasn’t giving her the opportunity.

The same man who’d come for Deacon came to usher Kellan onstage. Sienna stood up with Kellan. Extending her elbow to him, she demurely asked, “Can I show you the way?” Maybe it
was my imagination, but the question seemed laced with dual meaning.

Kellan didn’t take her elbow, but gave her a polite nod of his head. I followed them out the door, my fingers loosely held in Kellan’s. A group of men and women wearing lanyards
sporting the name of one of the local radio stations spotted Sienna instantly. Of course, she wasn’t hard to miss. She was in her stage outfit—a one-piece seventies-inspired jumpsuit
littered with rhinestones that sparkled in the lights. It tied around her neck in a halter and had absolutely no back on it; it was so low that I could see the dimples beside her tail bone. And
I’d been trying very hard to ignore how deeply cut the V was in the front while we’d been talking in the back room. I’m assuming that a hefty amount of double-sided tape was
keeping everything in place.

“Sienna! Can we have a quick interview? Maybe some photos?”

The bodyguards that seemed to flank Sienna everywhere she went didn’t let the people through until Sienna spoke. “Sure thing.”

“With Kellan?” A blonde in super tight jeans asked. The suggestive smile on her face was very unprofessional.

Kellan jerked his thumb toward the stage. “Sorry, I have to go.”

The blonde pouted at him, holding up a camera. “Just a quick photo of the happy couple?”

Kellan rolled his eyes as he looked back at me. I was standing a little behind him, so the blonde probably couldn’t tell that we were holding hands. Locking eyes with the blonde, he
pointed at Sienna and firmly told her, “We’re not together.”

The blonde gave Kellan a knowing smile. It was so clear to me that she was thinking,
Got it, you don’t want to talk about your relationship with Sienna yet. Your secret is safe with
me
. Kellan looked like he wanted to set her straight, but I tugged on his arm. He’d have to point out who I was to effectively set her straight, and I didn’t want to be a part of
this spectacle. Besides, the man wearing headphones was frantically waving at us to hurry.

As we turned away from the press, I noticed Sienna blowing Kellan a kiss. Before we were out of earshot, one of the radio personalities pointed at me and asked, “Who’s
that?”

Her smile still bright and charming, Sienna immediately answered, “Just an old friend of Kellan’s.” She smirked a bit after she said it, then all of her attention was given to
the interviewers.

Kellan didn’t hear, but I glared daggers into her back, not sure if I should be angry or not. She
had
called me an old friend when she could have just said “nobody,”
and left it at that. I just wasn’t sure what to feel for Sienna. One minute she wasn’t so bad, then the next she was just as manipulative as Nick. I couldn’t tell what her deal
was.

Thinking of old friends and sorting through my feelings got me thinking of Denny. The All Access pass around my neck let me go anywhere I wanted backstage, so I took out my cell phone and
snapped a few pictures to send to him. Making my way to where I could watch the boys play, I snapped a pic of the massive crowd jumping up and down. Right after I sent the photo with a message that
read,
Can you believe the size of this crowd?
I noticed a huge sign that a fan was holding high in the air—Kell-Sex forever! God, I really hated that nickname.

Denny texted back while I was looking around the dimly lit arena for more signs.
Damn, I’d be crapping my daks if I were him. I suppose he’s not the least bit nervous, though, is
he?

I laughed as I texted back that he was fine. Phlegmatic, even.

The stage was dark as the lights dramatically danced across the crowd in haphazard patterns. The fans roared in delight and lifted their arms in the air. Then all of the lights simultaneously
swung toward the stage, and the mob screamed. Kellan and the boys had stepped out while they weren’t looking. Once the people realized they were standing there, waiting, they went nuts; it
was easy to see that the fans were losing their minds over the fact that the D-Bags had been added to the tour. The noise vibrated my chest. I covered my ears as I laughed. From my vantage point, I
could see Kellan shaking his head a little bit, completely blown away by the swaying mass of bodies before him. Even though I’d seen him do this a thousand times before, excitement flooded
through me as I watched him approach the microphone.

“Good evening, Los Angeles!”

The answering squeals vibrated my skull. Adjusting the guitar strapped over his chest, Kellan flashed the crowd a panty-dropping grin. I saw someone in the front row fall back into her friends;
guess her knees gave away.

As the rest of the boys got into position, Kellan raised his hand in the air. The crowd silenced . . . sort of. “We’re the D-Bags, and we’re honored to be playing for you
tonight.” The silence evaporated into shrieking. Kellan put both hands up to quiet them. “Now, we’re only going to play for you if you’ve been good.” Unhooking the
microphone, he walked up to the edge of the stage and looked down on the crowd at his feet. “So . . . have you been good?” he asked, his voice dripping with sensuality.

The crowd’s response was so loud that I almost didn’t hear Evan start the intro. I was sure that Kellan and the guys only heard it because of the earpieces they were all wearing.
Giving the audience a glorious view of his backside, Kellan sauntered back to his microphone stand. Sliding the equipment back into place, Kellan started playing his guitar. It was miked as well,
and the twang echoed around the arena.

They were playing a song that was classic to me, but new to most of the fans here. The crowd ate it up. Kellan’s voice was perfect and powerful; it made a shiver run down my spine. He
really was so good at this, so inspiring to watch. As he played, words and storylines filtered through my head. Even though I hated to turn away from Kellan, I decided to not let this creative
spark get away from me. As quickly as I could, I dashed away to find some paper. By the time I got back to my spot, the D-Bags had switched songs. Kellan’s guitar was resting near his empty
microphone stand, and Kellan was strutting back and forth near the edge of the stage, tantalizing the crowd with his proximity.

Words were tumbling through my brain as his voice drifted past my ears. Watching a movie play out in my head, I jotted down everything I saw. It was a completely different story I was seeing
than the tragedy of my past that I had been working on. Switching to something new brought a huge smile to my lips. Writing was so rewarding. And writing while listening to Kellan perform live was
darn near euphoric.

Kellan found me after his set was over, and I practically leapt into his arms I was so proud of him. He was giddy as he swung me around in a circle. Just like after their other shows, the
audience was shouting for the D-Bags, shouting for Kellan. Setting me down, Kellan peeked out over the crowd.

Evan and Matt were awestruck. Griffin looked like he’d expected nothing less. Smacking Kellan’s shoulder, he told him, “We gotta give ’em an encore.”

Kellan looked back at the bassist and shook his head. “We don’t have time to play another song. It’s Sienna’s show, and she’s big on structure.”

Griffin pursed his lips then grabbed Kellan’s arm. “What the fuck do I care about Sienna?” Shoving Kellan forward, he smirked, “It’s our time to shine,
baby.”

Matt and Evan pushed him forward too. Matt said, “Just pop your head out and wave.” As Kellan shrugged, Matt looked back at me and laughed. “Plug your ears, Kiera.”

Grinning at the group as they dashed back onto the stage, I did as Matt suggested. Good thing too. My eardrums may have burst if I hadn’t. A panicked staff member frantically waving his
arms at the boys finally got them to come down from their spotlight. They were all laughing as they joined me again. I couldn’t help but be caught up in their excitement.

Kellan wrapped his arms around my waist as the hollering from the crowd died down. “We have to stay close by to join Sienna for the final song, but the guys and I were thinking about
running across the street to the bar. Wanna come?”

A part of me wanted to stay where I was so I could work on the new novel that had sprung to life during Kellan’s performance, but Kellan’s grin was contagious, and there was no way I
could say no. Besides, there would be countless live performances in my future to draw inspiration from. As I nodded, Kellan pointed at the notepad I was hugging to my chest. “Were you
writing?” My emphatic nod continued and he asked, “While I was singing?”

“You’re very inspiring to watch,” I stated.

His face was incredulous as he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair. “I . . . inspire you?”

Stars in my eyes, I sighed, “Daily.”

Kellan looked at me like I’d just grown another head. “And you say I’m absurd.” I laughed until he pried the notebook away from me. I tried to snatch it back, but he
handed it to the man in a headset who’d retrieved him from the dressing room. “This is priceless, literary genius, and you need to guard it with your life.”

The man’s eyes went wide as he held it close. “Yes, sir.” I almost thought he was going to salute us.

Satisfied, Kellan told him, “Make sure it ends up inside my guitar case, please.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said again before he took off.

“Did he just call me sir . . . twice?” Kellan laughed as he slung his arm around my waist.

I lightly smacked his stomach. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He looked down at me with a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The group of us headed toward the exit after that. Matt and Griffin were leading the way, sneaking around corners like we were robbing the place. “Are we allowed to leave the arena while
the show is going on?” I asked Kellan.

He laughed as he looked around. “We have no idea . . . hence Spy vs. Spy up there.”

Avoiding every person that we could, we crept our way to a set of doors marked with an Exit sign. We stealthily made our way down a hallway that Matt said let out by the busses. We weren’t
going to the busses, but no one around needed to know that. When we got outside, a guard was stationed outside of the door, keeping an eye on things. The guys nodded at him, walking past like they
owned the place. Either the guard recognized them as rock stars, or saw my go-anywhere pass. Either way, he didn’t question any of us as we left the arena. I suppose he was more concerned
with people trying to get
into
the backstage area than people leaving it.

When we got onto the regular street, that one security guard was the only person who knew we were gone. That sort of freedom gave us all a buzz; there was a lot of giggling and playful ribbing.
I loved being included in it. Griffin scoured the street, trying to figure out where we were in relation to the nearest bar while Kellan nudged Matt’s arm. “You know what time we should
be back, right?” Matt nodded as he tapped the watch on his wrist. I hoped he did. It would not be good if the boys were late.

Suddenly, Griffin pointed to his right and shouted, “Bar, ho!”

He immediately started sprinting toward his alcoholic haven. Matt and Evan took off after him, both of them laughing. Kellan looked over at me. “Last one to the bar has to sit by
Griffin.” I darted away before he even finished his sentence.

I had a serious ache in my side when I stepped on the rubber welcome mat, but my foot came down a half-second before Kellan’s, so I considered that a victory. Hands on my knees, I
struggled to catch my breath as I peered up at him. It had been a while since I’d sprinted. “Beat ’cha,” I panted.