Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(69)

An irrational jealousy swept through me. That was my favorite move! And he was using it on this . . . bitch! True, we hadn’t set any boundaries on what he could and couldn’t do today, but, out of respect for me, couldn’t he stay away from moves that were used in our bedroom?

Words that my mother had spoken to me last Christmas leapt to life in my brain. It takes a special person to be able to handle all of the attention he’ll receive. Are you sure you’re that woman? I’m sure my mom hadn’t anticipated this level of attention, but her point was suddenly a valid one. Could I handle this?

I started to turn away from him, disgusted, but then I remembered the look on his face when this all started. And I remembered the pressure he was under to do this—by his band, by the label, even by me. And then I remembered what I’d told him when I first talked him into this, when he said he couldn’t do it. Just pretend she’s me. My eyes snapped back to him on the monitor. Was that what he was doing? Pretending she was me?

The director yelled cut, and Kellan froze and immediately rolled off of her. He kept his eyes closed as he laid his head back on the pillows. I could see his chest heaving, and as he swallowed, I swear I saw his jaw tremble. My concern for him instantly shot past my brief moment of jealousy. God, was he okay with this?

Sienna sure was. She was fanning herself like Kellan was the greatest thing since sliced bread. How could she be so oblivious to his turmoil? Was I the only one that noticed how tightly he kept his eyes closed, like he was afraid to open them? I wanted to run over to him, to tell him that I wasn’t mad, but after some quick adjustments, Diedrich yelled action again, and the making out continued.

When the camera was rolling, Kellan seemed fine—he smiled, teased, tasted, appeared like he loved her—but the minute there was a break, he went rigid stiff, and kept his eyes sealed shut. I don’t think he’d opened them once since he’d finally caved and kissed her. He must be terrified of what I thought, of what he thought he’d see on my face.

The filming took hours, and I was exhausted by the time they wrapped. Looking pleased as punch, Diedrich profusely thanked his stars and announced that he’d see everyone tomorrow. Kellan shot up off of the bed, grabbed his robe from a crew member nearby, and darted off the set before I could even call his name. For the first time since it began, Sienna looked sad as she put her robe on over her still-bare chest.

Ignoring her melancholy, I set off in search of my morose husband, but I couldn’t find him. The place was a maze of hallways and people. I ran into the other D-Bags before I ran into him. Back in street clothes, a boisterous Evan wrapped me in a bear hug. “Kiera! You are not gonna believe how badass we looked!”

Setting me down, Evan searched the hallway. “Where’s Kellan?”

As Matt gave me concerned eyes, and Griffin chatted with a nearby blonde that I recognized as Kellan’s robe holder, I shrugged. “I don’t know . . . he kind of took off.”

Matt shrugged. “Maybe he needed air? Maybe he’s waiting in the car?”

Not knowing where else to look for him, I nodded and let the guys escort me outside. Sienna waved as I passed by her dressing room. She was back in her street clothes as well, but her fit body was still seared into my brain. As was the image of Kellan’s tongue running up her throat. My stomach was churning a little bit when we got outside, and I inhaled the fresh air like I’d been in a stagnant cave for decades.

Evan patted my back, then pointed at a black limo waiting for us. “Car’s here. Let’s go see if Kellan’s waiting for you.” Eyes moist, I gave him a weak nod.

The driver opened the door as we approached. My heart was thudding as all of the boys hopped inside. I heard Evan greet Kellan. So he was hiding in the car. I heard Griffin ask him how it was, and I felt faint. It was awful. That’s how it was. I hesitated at the car door, not sure if I could stomach seeing Kellan yet. It was all just too . . . fresh.

Hating myself, I ducked into the car and purposely avoided looking his way. I stared out the window as the car started moving. I could feel Kellan’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. It was the oddest feeling I’d ever had. I recognized how difficult it had been for him, I realized that he’d pretended she was me so he could get through it, and I wanted to comfort him, because I’d seen how badly he’d been bothered by doing it. And yet, at the same time, I didn’t want to see his face. I knew if I did, I would see hers too. And I just couldn’t handle it at the moment.

As the conversations in the limo died down, the tension built. Eventually, it was so thick I had to believe that even Griffin felt it. In fact, he started to ask, “Are you two fighting?” but someone elbowed him before he could finish saying it. Good thing, too, because I wasn’t sure if we were or not. All I knew was I still felt ill, and I still loved Kellan more than anything.

I got out of the car the minute the driver opened the door and dashed upstairs, slamming our bedroom door shut. I had to see him. I couldn’t possibly avoid him. I just needed . . . a minute. Grief welled in me, followed immediately by guilt. This was my idea, and I’d requested to watch it. All of this self-inflicted pain was unnecessary. I couldn’t stop feeling it, though. Hearing the guys in the lounge area, I quickly walked into the bathroom and turned on a faucet so I could cry in peace. As I wiped a knuckle under my eye, I noticed my bloody palms from where I’d cut myself. Eyes wide, I scrubbed my hands under the cool water.