Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(148)

Kellan lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It’s one of the largest radio stations on the east coast.”

My smile shifted to a frown as I thought of speaking into a microphone that would be heard by thousands of people. “Yes, I’m sure. If you’re going to do something as reckless as throw your record label and the biggest pop star on the planet under the bus, then I’m going to be right beside you.” I lifted my wrist to show him the tattoo of his name branded on my skin. “I’m done hiding. And now I have to go throw up.”

Kellan laughed at me as he leaned over and kissed me. After we pulled apart, Kellan turned to the guys. “This affects you too. If I tell everyone what we did to boost sales, it could hurt us. Sienna was right about that—the stigma could follow us for years. Are you guys okay with that?”

I watched the other band members carefully. Kellan was right, this affected the entire band, and Kellan didn’t want to see them suffer. That was one of the reasons Kellan had played along in the first place.

Walking over, Evan picked me up and squeezed the life out of me. “I hated hearing all that Kell-Sex crap, so I’m thrilled it’s about to be over.”

Kellan nodded, then looked over at Matt. Matt wasn’t always as easygoing as the others, and he took the D-Bags’ career very seriously. As much as I hated to admit it, Kellan and I were about to wrap the band in a scandal that could end up really harming them.

Matt held Kellan’s eye, but didn’t speak. Feeling the tension, Kellan shrugged, and told him, “I’m sorry, Matt. I really didn’t expect any of this . . . and I won’t come clean if everyone’s not onboard.”

Smiling, Matt slugged Kellan’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, man. Don’t worry about it.” He pointed at every D-Bag. “We just have to make sure the next album rocks so freaking hard that all of this doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

Kellan clapped his arm. “Deal.”





Chapter 26


Coming Clean





On the car ride over to the radio station the next day, my nerves were ablaze and anxiety sizzled every cell in my body. I was used to being in the background. I was comfortable there. Being shoved into the spotlight was going to burn a little. But I had to do this. It may not change the way some people thought of me, but I had to stand by my husband’s side while he put himself out on a limb. If it broke, at least we’d both fall together.

The boys checked out the sights as we drove through the packed streets of the Big Apple. We’d briefly been here before during the promo tour, and one thing I’d never get used to about New York City was how many cars and taxis filled the busy streets. The city teemed with life. There was movement everywhere—the roads, sidewalks, buildings, even the windows. It was so active it gave me a little buzz. I felt like I had suddenly developed restless leg syndrome; I couldn’t be still. Of course, that could just be my nerves flaring up.

Kellan watched me in the car, amusement in his eyes. I wanted to tell Mr. No Nerves to stow it, but I had a frog in my throat and couldn’t speak at all . . . yet. Reaching into his pocket, Kellan grabbed something, then handed it to me. Curious, I looked down and saw a fuchsia rose petal in my hand. In Sharpie he’d written You are a and drawn a tiny star. I glanced up at him, confused. He pointed at the petal. “I finished your book. It’s amazing, Kiera. You really should get it published.”

Smiling, I looked back at the silky petal in my fingers. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it after you read it all.”

His arm wrapped around me. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m pretty sure I love you even more. How you see me . . . I never thought anyone would ever . . .” His voice trailed off as his throat tightened with emotion.

Understanding, I looked back up at him. “That’s because you don’t see yourself as clearly as I see you.”

Laughing, he pulled me tight. “God, we really are peas in a pod, aren’t we?”

My nerves not quite so bad, I nestled into his side. While he played with my wedding ring, I again marveled at his ability to turn my emotions around. And at his ability to constantly surprise me. Looking back up at him, I asked, “Where the hell do you keep getting these petals?”

Eyes mischievous, he murmured, “I’m a man of many mysteries, Mrs. Kyle.” Then he started laughing again.

When we arrived at the radio station, the crowd was massive. How people found us everywhere we went, I’d never understand; it was almost like there was a D-Bag warning alert that went off in every town we visited.

Some of the people in the crowd around the station had handmade signs proclaiming their love for their favorite D-Bag. There were a lot of signs for Kellan, but the other boys were being loved on too. It was surreal to see people I knew being idolized at this level. I mean, some of the girls were sobbing as they waited for a glimpse of the band—red-faced, snotty-nosed sobbing. I was pretty sure that if the girl holding the sign that read—Marry me, Griffin—actually knew Griffin, she probably wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf. Or asking for his hand. Well, maybe with the new, calmer, gentler Griffin. He wasn’t so bad. But pre-Gibson Griffin? No way.

The car let us out right in front of the crowd huddling around the front doors. Tory was with us, of course, and tried to immediately steer the boys into the station. They didn’t go in right away, though. Evan warmly met fans by the front door, signing autographs and even hugging a couple of them. Matt stood a bit behind him, looking a little uncomfortable by the size of the crowd, but happy to shake a couple hands. Griffin took off down the street. When he got to the end of the fans, he turned around and headed back to the front. He lifted his arms as he ran, encouraging the crowd to do the same. Screaming, they mimicked him, and that’s when I realized what he was doing—he was making the fans do the wave. Dork.