Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)(99)

Kellan tried to put out the fire. Physically, he stayed as far away from her as possible, even going to the extreme of singing their duets on the other side of the stage as her. He told everyone who would listen that Sienna was not the girl in the video, and he was not, nor had he ever been, in a relationship with her. It was all too little, too late, though. Nothing could stop the gossip train.

Two weeks after the tape’s release, the sordid gossip was still going strong. We were in Atlanta, Georgia, a place I had always wanted to visit, and the boys were doing an early afternoon in-studio radio interview. I was sitting on a stool against the wall by Tory, who was always present when Kellan and the boys spoke to the press. While I was slumped against the wall, Tory sat ramrod straight, slightly leaning forward, ready to pounce. Her eyes watched the DJs like a hawk—or like a mama bear protecting her cubs.

“So, Kellan . . . rumors are going crazy. Anything you want to say about the lovely and quite talented Sienna Sexton?” The DJ stressed the word talented, and everyone in the room knew he wasn’t talking about her music.

Kellan shifted on his seat. “I’ve said this about five million times, but she’s an acquaintance of mine. We work together, nothing more.” Tory’s eyes tightened at Kellan’s admission, but she knew, just like Nick and Sienna, that nothing Kellan said at this point really mattered—a fact the DJ confirmed seconds later.

“Right . . . work.” He turned to his partner. “That’s a gig I wouldn’t mind getting.”

They both let out hearty laughs while Kellan’s expression darkened. “I am not, nor have I ever been, in a relationship with Sienna.”

The men turned incredulous eyes to Kellan. “So, that’s not her on the tape with you?”

Kellan closed his eyes and seemed to count to ten before answering, “No.”

The second male DJ responded with, “Sure looks like her. Even freeze-framed.”

My stomach churned and my hands balled into fists. I hated that the odds were very good that everyone in this room had seen the tape of Kellan having sex. Well, everyone except for me. There was no way on this green earth that I was watching that. Some things can’t be unseen, and Joey and Kellan going at it like porn stars was one of those things.

Staring the DJ down, Kellan straightforwardly told him, “I don’t see what any of this has to do with my music, which is why I’m here. The woman in the video was a girl I dated years ago, long before I ever met Sienna. While she happens to sort of resemble her, it’s not Sienna Sexton.”

Both male DJs glanced at each other. “It’s sort of strange that no girl has come forward then, right? I mean, if this ‘not-Sienna’ you dated leaked the tape . . . where is she?” He used air quotes, like he still didn’t believe Kellan.

This was unfortunately a sticky point for us. Joey hadn’t made a peep. She hadn’t come out to fight for her right as the proud participant in the video. She hadn’t basked in the glow of Kellan’s spotlight. She hadn’t snatched her claim to fame. The only thing she’d done so far was stay quiet as a mouse and let Sienna take all her “glory.” It seemed completely unlike Joey to me.

Kellan stammered on his answer. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.” Knowing he was digging himself into a hole, Kellan turned around and glanced at Tory, silently asking her to shift the conversation.

A female in a back booth chimed in with her thoughts. “I think it’s sweet that he protects Sienna by denying it. It’s chivalrous.” She pointed at the two DJs. “You guys could learn a thing a two.” I wanted to stab the girl with a pen. How much clearer did Kellan have to be?

Tory stepped forward and made a cutting motion with her hand over her throat. The implication was clear to the DJs: End this line of questioning, or I pull my talent. They quickly redirected the interview toward the band’s concert that night, and Kellan visibly relaxed.

When the interview was over, Kellan walked over to me, his expression glum. He really hated that he couldn’t steer the public’s perception of him. He was a puppet, along for the ride, but not really a part of it. No, this show belonged entirely to Nick and Sienna. I patted his arm in sympathy, then I dropped my hand to my side. I was keeping public affection to a minimum. Not only did I still not want the world’s attention focused on me, but things with “Kell-Sex” were just too crazy at the moment. And if Kellan couldn’t control what people thought about him, then he definitely couldn’t control what people thought about me. If the gossipers figured out who I was, they’d never leave us alone. They would paint me as the other woman in the Kell-Sex love affair. I would be hated, reviled, possibly even egged. Being in an across-the-globe scandal freaked me out so much that I had even asked Kellan to switch his wedding ring to his right hand when we were out. I just didn’t want to cause unnecessary problems for myself. The waters just needed to calm a little bit. And they would, as soon as this tour was over.

In an absurd way, I was Kellan’s dirty little secret. It was a disturbingly familiar feeling, one I didn’t care for. I had no idea how we were going to keep our wedding in December quiet. Or if we even could. Marriage licenses were a matter of public record, right? Anyone searching deep enough for info on Kellan would find it.

Since we had rolled into town this morning but the show wasn’t until tonight, the bands were being put up in a hotel room. Kellan and I had decided to abandon our bus love nest for a spacious suite with a Jacuzzi. As an obscenely oversized SUV transported the D-Bags and company back to the hotel, my phone rang. Rummaging through my bag, I found my cell shoved between the pages of a book I was trying to read in my spare time. I was so busy writing that I would have had more luck reading an entire novel if Kellan read it to me. Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.