Consumed (Devoured, #2)(11)

And now—now he’s married to a woman I care about just as much as my own family.

I massage the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Congratulations.”

Kylie releases a deep sigh. “Thanks, it means a lot to me that you’re not pissed that I kept it from—” I hear something buzzing loudly on her end, and she groans. She mumbles something about fire extinguisher and dinner and tells me she’ll be right back. When she returns to the phone nearly two minutes later, she’s out of breath.

“I blow at cooking,” she explains. “We’re just now getting around to telling most people that we’re married, so please don’t think I kept you in the dark for too long.”

I can only imagine the way she broke the news to her brother.

“Today you need to call the head of your record company. Go to a photo shoot at 2:30. Buy a wedding gift for Wyatt and me—oh, by the way, Lucas, I married him back in April.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Everyone taking it okay?”

The silence that immediately takes over the conversation is a good indicator that her answer is going to be no. I don’t nudge her to speak this time, but after thirty seconds of a quiet hum on her end, she laughs. “Just about. Lucas shocked the hell out of me because he’s been the most supportive. Sinjin, on the other hand . . .”

Just hearing the drummer’s name makes me uneasy. He had confronted me while he was high back in February. It ended badly, with Lucas furious and Sinjin going back to rehab.

“He’ll be fine,” I tell Kylie, my voice tight.

“He’s worried Wyatt is going to screw up and hurt me. I worry too—don’t get me wrong—but I want it to work. I don’t need the people closest to me making it worse.”

This I completely understand. The last thing I want is to decide to go on the road with Lucas and then have my family and friends tell me what an idiot I am.

“What matters is you’re happy.” I dig my heel in between two of the porch’s wooden floorboards and rock the swing back. “Sinjin will get over it.”


“He will,” she agrees. “Thanks for listening. And I know it still doesn’t make sense why I won’t go on tour with you guys, but I just can’t. It’ll cause too many problems and jealousy issues. It’s just best if I sit this one out.”

“You’re making it sound like I’ve already decided to go.” And after this conversation with Kylie, I wonder if I should step a foot on that tour bus.

When I say as much to her, she pulls in a breath. “Shit, babe. Please just ignore everything I just said.”

“I’m still shocked he showed up. I don’t even know what we are yet, but I know I don’t want to backtrack just because I have to see him around a bunch of horny groupies.”

“Lucas isn’t like that at all, I swear it. Not when he’s in a relationship, and that’s what you are to him now. You don’t have a damn thing to worry about.”

There’s another awkward pause in our conversation, and once again, she’s the one who breaks it by saying she has to go. For the first time since I began talking to Kylie on a regular basis a few months ago, I’m actually eager to get off the phone. She’s given me a lot to think about in a fifteen minute phone conversation, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll be up late tonight, gazing up at my ceiling with a hundred and one thoughts hurtling through my head.

“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“You know it. Look, Sienna, think about the tour long and hard, okay?” She pauses. “Ugh, I just heard you snort, you dirty bitch.”

“I did no such thing.”

This time, she snorts. “Whatever. But, back to what I was saying—I swear the bus isn’t just about tits and ass.” Before I have a chance to call her bullshit, she amends her statement, “I swear my brother’s part of the bus won’t be about tits and ass. Better?”

“You have no filter, do you?”

She laughs. “Filters are for pussies.”

“Good night, Kylie. And, seriously, take care of yourself.”

She promises to call me in the next few days, after she returns from her weekend getaway, and then hangs up. I remain on the swing for a few more minutes before I wander into the house, where the aroma of chicken teriyaki immediately greets me. My grandmother is already in the dining room, so I slide down into the seat across from her.

“His sister called to talk you into going on tour with that band?” she asks.

I blow a few strand of hair out of my eyes. “She’s not even going.” Gram’s brow knits together over her bright blue eyes in confusion, and I add, “She married the bass guitarist a few months ago and doesn’t want to be on the road anymore.”

She chews an oversized bite of chicken and broccoli slowly, carefully considering what to say next. “So, now that you know she won’t be going, what do you think you’ll do?”

“I’m going.” Even if it does scare the hell out of me. If Kylie is willing to give Wyatt McCrae another chance, I can deal with being on tour with Lucas. “At least I’ll go for a couple of weeks.”

I ignore that little voice in the back of my head warning me that a couple weeks may be all it takes for Lucas to tell me to f*ck off again. I ignore it because if I listen, I’ll never be happy.