Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(78)
I could only shake my head in disbelief. Justin, Kellan, and . . . Griffin? Really?
Turning to face me, Kellan asked, “What was that?”
I blinked, not following. “What was what?”
He rubbed his back. “The Smurf bite. I was only going to tell her you were my girl, not Sienna.”
Cringing, I massaged the spot I’d probably bruised. “Sorry. Yeah, I know you were. I just . . . I don’t want to be paraded around your concerts and introduced to fifty thousand curious people. I don’t want them all looking at me, talking about me. I don’t want one of them mentioning something to all the press around here. I don’t want them catching wind of me. And I really don’t want to be front page news, and since everyone wants you with Sienna, that’s exactly what would happen. I would be a breaking news story. And I just . . .” I shrugged. “Let’s stay vague about us, okay? This craziness will die off soon.”
Kellan set down his drink and looped his arms around my waist. “So, should I not be doing this then?”
I laced my arms around his neck. “This is fine. We don’t need to stop living our lives, we just don’t need to go into detail about it. We can be private. We’re good at private.”
Kellan smirked, then pulled me into him for a hug. “Well, people are watching me right now, so they’re probably figuring it out that you’re my girlfriend.”
Laughing, I pushed him back. “No, trust me, they’re most likely trying to figure out where the ‘Get a Hug from Kellan’ line forms.” Kellan just laughed, but I knew I was right.
While we waited for the D-Bags’ turn on stage, Kellan and the boys visited with fans and band members. I stayed close to Kellan’s side, laughing with him and enjoying the mixed company. Several of the other band members had been on the last tour and knew the guys well. A couple of band members even recognized me from Kellan’s scrapbook, and made a point of saying hello. Aside from a few jealous glances, the fans didn’t comment much on my “flirty” relationship with Kellan as he put an arm around me or held my hand. Since a couple of other fans did successfully tackle him into a quick hug throughout the evening, maybe they just assumed that he was a friendly, give-the-fans-what-they-want kind of guy. And he was. To a point.
The D-Bags were slated to perform right before Justin’s band. Before he headed off to the staging area, I leaned up and gave Kellan a soft peck. “Good luck.”
The excitement in his eyes was evident as he grinned at me. He loved this. “Thank you. Back in a bit.”
He hurried off to start his show, and I couldn’t help but notice that a large majority of the crowd backstage had already disappeared—everyone wanted to see the D-Bags perform. Making my way to the side of the stage, I found a spot where I wouldn’t be in the way, but I’d have a killer view. That’s when I fully realized just how packed the house was. The floor before the stage was crammed with people. They were jammed in so tight, I almost wondered if the club was in violation of some city ordinance; surely they were over capacity. But no one in the audience seemed to care that they were squished like sardines, especially when Kellan strutted onto the stage.
Guitar slung over his back, Kellan raised a hand as he walked to the microphone stand. The room erupted into shrieks. While the other guys bounded into position, Kellan leaned into the mike and murmured, “Evenin’.”
Hearing the reverse of his typical greeting made me chuckle. It made the crowd jump up and down. When the screaming diminished somewhat, a section of the crowd simultaneously yelled out, “We love you, Kellan!”
Kellan shielded his eyes from the bright lights beating down on him and scanned the audience. “I love you guys too.” He laughed, and the girls in the front row looked they might hyperventilate—if they could breathe to begin with, that is.
Removing the guitar from his back, Kellan asked the crowd, “Is everybody having a good time?”
My ears rang a little after the shrieking response. Kellan cocked his head as he flipped the guitar around and slipped the strap over his shoulder. The body of the guitar was now resting right in front of his pelvis, and there was something insanely erotic about that. “Hmmm, I don’t know. Doesn’t really sound like you guys are having fun.”
Jumping and screaming, the crowd tried to prove to him that they were indeed having a good time. The display made me laugh. Kellan shook his head. “Let’s try that again. I said, is everybody having a good f*cking time!” He shouted his question this time, and the crowd went nuts. They even started stomping their feet; it sounded like an earthquake was rolling through the building.
Satisfied, Kellan glanced back at Evan and nodded. Taking that at his cue, Evan started the intro to the first song. There were some things in this life that I would never get tired of. Watching Kellan perform was one of those things. He just had that spark that made it impossible to take your eyes off of him. And unlike a lot of singers I’d watched, Kellan didn’t just stand behind his microphone and belt out his songs. No, he actively engaged the crowd, making them a part of the show. I was positive that everyone in that audience felt a connection with him at some point during his set. Kellan’s ability to sound amazing, while still being fun and playful, was one of his greatest attributes. When it came to music, at least. I could think of several other highlights that had nothing to do with being on stage.