Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(133)



There were three shots of Kellan and me highlighted in the article. One of the photos was a close-up of our faces, snapped while we were kissing. Kellan was grieving in that picture, and the distress on his face was as clear as my lips upon his. The second was a moment later, when we’d noticed that we were being filmed. We were both looking directly at the photographer, shock on our faces; even surprised, Kellan looked pained. The shots were so zoomed in that the graveyard was nowhere to be seen. Thanks to the emotion on Kellan’s face, it really did look like he was cheating on Sienna, and was torn up about it. I’d been comforting him at the time, but in the photo I came across as a stone cold adulteress, seducing him into being unfaithful to the woman he loved.

The last photo, the money shot, was Kellan standing above the photographer after knocking him to the ground. Looking thoroughly pissed off, Kellan seemed like he wanted to continue pummeling the man—a guilty adulterer furious about being caught red-handed. It was a gossip goldmine, and it was all very misleading and very incriminating.

Following my gaze, Jenny pointed at the computer. “I feel so bad for having to leave you in the middle of this circus.”

Watching Kellan run his hand through his hair while he talked with someone on his cell phone, I told her, “Being with him is always going to be a circus.” Smiling, I looked back at her. “He’s worth it, though.”

Jenny gave me another hug. “We have to go, but call me whenever you need to. Okay?” We separated, and her hand rubbed my arm. “And have faith.”

Swallowing back sudden tears, I told her I did. Faith was one of the few things I had right now. Rachel and I exchanged a brief hug next, and then my two friends disappeared from my life again. A brief surge of loneliness swelled in me; I’d really enjoyed my girl time. I quickly reminded myself that I’d get to see them again at my wedding, and in the meantime I had my sister to keep me company. I wondered if she’d seen this yet.

Kellan looked around the room when he finally got off his phone. “The girls leave?”

“Yeah.”

Kellan nodded and lifted the phone in his fingers. Grim amusement on his lips, he told me, “My dad and Hailey called. They’re both concerned about you. Hailey is worried that you’ll be lynched by the fans before this is all cleared up.” He frowned, like he kind of thought that too.

Running my arms around his neck, I told him,“We’ll sort this out, but right now, you have that private performance to get ready for.” I lifted my brow as I reminded him that he still had a job to do in all of this madness.

Kellan dropped his head back. “God, I’d forgotten all about that.” Looking like he really wanted to call in sick, he said, “I was hoping to sit down with someone this afternoon, make a formal statement about that picture, but I’m not going to have time.”

Placing my palm on the tattoo of my name over his heart, I leaned up and kissed him. As if to punctuate just what he’d said, both of our cell phones started ringing again and Tory pounded on our door. “Ten minutes, Kyle!”

I was done hiding our relationship. So, when the dark SUV the label hired dropped us off at the venue, I held hands with Kellan as we walked inside. The swarm of paparazzi waiting on the other side of the security fence was massive; I’d never seen so many cameras in all my life. They immediately reacted when they saw the two of us together. Flashbulbs blinked on and off in rhythmic, random patterns. The crowd clamoring for the best shot of Kellan and I looked like a wide, chaotic Christmas tree, its lights struggling to outshine the sun on this crisp fall afternoon. The tall man in the middle only needed an angel on his head to complete the effect. I was grateful for the warmth and strength emanating from Kellan’s hand as he squeezed mine tight—I felt like my entire body was falling apart, I was shaking so much.

This was so far outside of my comfort zone that I was pretty sure I was bumping into someone else’s comfort zone. But instead of cowering and hiding, I lifted my head and straightened my back. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and I had nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. The fans in the crowd took my resolve as arrogance. Words drifted over the lot. Hurtful words—whore, slut, home wrecker, bitch, and several others that I couldn’t even repeat in my own head. Kellan was squeezing my palm painfully hard by the time we were safely behind closed doors. I shook my hand so he’d let some blood flow back into my fingers.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I had to hold on to you to stop myself from smacking a few heads.”

I smiled up at him. “Considering that most of the bodies attached to those heads are young, female fans of yours, I’d say it’s a very good thing that you didn’t punch any of them.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Well, don’t think I didn’t want to.”

“Don’t think I didn’t want to either,” I joked. Well, half-joked.

Kellan and I found our way to the D-Bags’ dressing room. The rest of the D-Bags were already there when we entered. Anna was too. Standing next to a small table overflowing with snacks, she was pouring a bag of M&Ms into a gigantic bowl of freshly popped popcorn. Plodding over to a chair, she eased herself down and balanced the bowl on her belly. As Kellan walked over to Matt and Evan, I sat beside her.

“Hey,” I muttered, watching the bowl shift a little as Maximus moved beneath it.

S.C. Stephens's Books