Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(42)



He dashed off to one of the bedrooms, and I heard the sound of a shower being turned on. I hadn’t had time to investigate yet, but all of the rooms seemed to have bathrooms with showers in them. Kellan watched Griffin leave, then turned to Matt and Evan. “Let’s go.” He smirked, clearly amused at the small form of payback he’d just given Griffin.

As we were walking up the stairs that led to the top floor, Kellan picked a stray petal from my hair. I couldn’t contain my smile as he handed it to me. Palming the red piece of velvet, I leaned over and whispered, “Were you really going to kick Griffin out of the band?”

Looking over his shoulder, Kellan murmured, “No, I just wanted to make a point.” He turned back, his expression thoughtful. With an adorable half-smile on his face he glanced over at me and added, “Well, maybe. Do you want me to?”

I thought about that a moment, but then slowly shook my head. As big of an ass as he was, he belonged with the band. And besides, it wouldn’t help my sister’s situation any if her baby-daddy was suddenly unemployed.

When we got to the upstairs suites, a matching set of bodyguards blocked our path. Wearing corded earpieces and sunglasses, the pair looked more like secret service members than pop star guardians. Kellan looked between the two hulks blocking his path. “I’m Kellan Kyle, this is my band.” He indicated all of us. “Ms. Sexton asked to see us.”

One of the guards discretely squeezed something in his palm and told someone on the other end of the earpiece that Kellan was there. After a moment’s pause, the guard moved away and let us all pass through. Walking between the mountains of muscle made me a little nervous. Tight security. I understood, I guess, since Sienna Sexton was pretty much on top of the world and must have fans coming up to her at every opportunity. It made me wonder if that would happen to Kellan someday. Would he need Thing 1 and Thing 2 watching over him? Watching over me?

Lana, the rep from the label whom I’d met before when I’d wrongly believed that Kellan was having an affair with her, stepped up to our group. The woman, who could have easily doubled for Halle Berry, nodded warmly at her recruits. “Kellan, boys.”

Kellan acknowledged her with a charming tilt of his head. “Lana.”

She swept her hand to indicate the looming space behind her. “Miss Sexton would like to speak with you, Kellan, if you’re free?” Lana gave me a knowing glance and I fought back the flush threatening to creep up my cheeks. After being walked in on by Griffin, innuendo was suddenly a lot less embarrassing. Huh. Maybe he’d done me a favor after all.

The edge of Kellan’s lip curled up before he schooled his features. “Of course.”

Lana led us through a set of solid white French doors. I’d expected to see Sienna right away, but the only people in the room were a young couple pawing through a cabinet stocked with liquor and a man in a suit patiently sitting on a couch, shuffling some papers in his hands. A pair of ornate double doors led outside to where I knew a rooftop pool was tucked away. The doors were open, letting in the sunshine and a light, warm breeze. Another set of closed double doors led to what I assumed was the master bedroom. Was she in there? The thought of meeting a bona fide pop star had my heart racing, and I squeezed Kellan’s hand.

As we approached the couch, the man in the suit stood and extended his hand. “Kellan, nice to meet you. I’m Nick Wallace, VP of Vivasec Records.”

Shock flashed over Kellan’s face as he shook the man’s hand. I was sure he’d met a ton of important people by now, but it was clear from his expression that he hadn’t met someone this far up the chain of command. “Nice to meet you.”

As I was wondering just what the heck was going on, three people walked into the room from the outside deck. I didn’t recognize two of them, but the person walking between them was unmistakable. Sienna Sexton. Physically, she was everything I would expect a celebrity to be—flawless olive skin, perfect bone structure, and from what I could see since she was wearing a bikini, zero body fat. Her hair was smooth and straight, even in this heat, and fell past her shoulders in a perfect, black curtain. Her eyes were just as dark and were framed in expertly applied mascara and eye liner; they seemed huge, like they took in everything. Her smile was warm and bright as she held both of her hands out to Kellan.

In a charming British accent, she exclaimed, “Kellan, I am so excited to meet you. I’m a huge fan.” Clasping Kellan’s fingers with hers, she leaned up and kissed each one of his cheeks. She was standing so close to me that the hem of the sheer white robe she was wearing over her bikini brushed against my hand. She smelled like coconut suntan lotion, and her deeply tanned skin seemed to glow with health and vitality. I’d only ever seen skin like that in moisturizer commercials.

When she pulled back from Kellan, she stared up at him with an expression of adoration and interest. It was an expression I was used to seeing on his fans, so I figured her statement was true. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from possessively leaning into his side. His fans could touch him . . . even the ones that were rich, famous, and drop-dead gorgeous.

Kellan seemed at a loss, which was an odd thing to see on him. He was usually so at ease. “Uh, thank you. I’m a . . . huge fan too.” He smiled at her and I couldn’t stop the momentary scowl that crept into my lips. Huge fan? I’d heard him sing along on the radio once or twice, but that was about it. Kellan’s preferences tended to run more toward classic rock. But he was probably just being nice. He couldn’t exactly tell her, Thanks, your stuff is all right.

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