Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(163)
After Kellan begged me for a final kiss, Griffin murmured, “Your wedding day is Thanksgiving. That’s convenient.” He pointed at Kellan. “You probably won’t forget your anniversary.” He looked over at Anna. “We shoulda done that. I already forgot ours.”
Anna smirked at Griffin while Kellan’s lip twitched. “Uh, it won’t always be on Thanksgiving, Griff.”
He looked horribly confused. “Huh? Yeah, it will.”
Kellan bit his lip. I could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh, since laughing hurt. “Thanksgiving isn’t on the same day every year. It moves around.”
Griffin glared at Kellan. “Don’t even try f*cking with me, Kell.” He tapped his finger to his head. “I’m on to you.”
I heard Matt and Evan snigger with Justin and Denny. My dad stared at the ceiling as he shook his head. I couldn’t contain my giggle; poor Kellan had to take long, slow exhales so he didn’t laugh with everyone else. “Griff, I’m not . . .”
Still laughing, I patted Kellan’s leg. “You should probably just let this one go.”
A laugh escaped Kellan, and he lightly held his stomach. “Damn idiot,” he muttered, his face scrunched in discomfort.
Feeling like Kellan was in good hands, I squeezed his leg and headed out of the room with Anna. Once in the hallway, she whispered, “Thanksgiving really isn’t on the same day every year?” I almost stopped myself from laughing at her. Almost.
I explained to Carly what we were planning as Anna called a cab. The helpful nurse seemed a little surprised, since I’d told her that Kellan and I were already married, but a romantic smile lit her face as she agreed to help us out. When Anna and I exited the hospital, our cab was waiting for us near the front doors. I was surprised by the number of fans loitering around the hospital. The window in Kellan’s room hadn’t given me a full view of them. Not only were they directly across the street, but they were also along the side streets, huddled at the street corners and in large clumps around the entrances. The various groups started pointing and whispering when they noticed me.
Probably remembering the footage she had watched of me accidentally being pushed into the street by a mob, Anna was immediately on edge. “Let’s hurry and get in the cab, Kiera.”
I couldn’t stop staring at the mass of people waiting, though. They looked genuinely distraught; some were even wiping tears away. Tears. For Kellan. It broke my heart. I was sure no one from the hospital had given these people any clue as to how Kellan was doing. They had probably only asked them to leave, or at least repeatedly asked them to stay out of the way. Tory had issued a dramatic statement to the press, but a blurb from a record label wasn’t exactly comforting. Maybe I could be comforting.
Feeling every muscle in my stomach tighten, I locked gazes with my sister. “I’ll be right back.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What are you doing?”
Swallowing, I looked back at the crowd. What the hell was I doing? “I just want to let them know he’s okay.”
As Anna and I started to cross the street, the crowd along the sidewalk seemed to simultaneously shift in our direction. My whole body started shaking. I fought down my fear and anxiety and approached them with my head high. How did Kellan conquer his nerves when he first started going on stage? Do I picture the crowd naked? Unfortunately, I was the only one I could picture naked, and that wasn’t helping my anxiety any. Instead of picturing them, or me, I imagined Kellan beside me, walking toward his eager fans with a charming half-smile on his face. I thought of the symbiotic relationship he had with these people, how important they were to each other, and how I could help bridge the gap between them today. My nerves vanished.
As soon as I got close enough, the fans started speaking. And all of them were asking me variations of the same question: Is Kellan okay? I held up my hands, and they instantly quieted.
In a more confident voice than I ever believed I was capable of using when addressing a swarm of people, I told them, “Kellan wanted me to tell all of you that he’s fine.” Remembering his pained face whenever he stood or laughed, I added, “Sore . . . but fine.” As tears pricked my eyes, I brought my hands to my heart. “He is touched beyond words that you’re here, sending out your love and well-wishes, and I know he would come down and thank each one of you individually if he could. Your support means a lot to him. To us. And we can’t thank you enough.”
The emotion of the last twenty-four hours caught up to me. It sealed my throat shut and forced the water in my eyes to run down my cheeks. As I hastily brushed tears away, I heard the crowd murmuring grateful thank-yous. As I turned to leave, someone in the back shouted, “Are you really his wife?”
A slow smile spread across my lips. Yes, I will be. Feeling close to this crowd of strangers, who deeply loved the same person I deeply loved, I told them the truth. “We’ve been married in our hearts for a long time, but . . . we’re making it official this week.” Not able to stop myself, I giggled as I said, “I’ll be Mrs. Kyle by Thursday night.”
Surprising me, the crowd erupted into screams and cheers. It made me laugh even more. And cry. Amazed that they were accepting me, my words escaped my mouth in an emotional jumble. “I have to go find a dress now.”
Names and addresses of nearby stores were shouted at me. I was too overwhelmed to take it all in, but I saw my sister nodding as she absorbed it. She may not know when Thanksgiving falls on the calendar, but she was a savant when it came to memorizing sales.