Beautiful Distraction (24 page)

“You would wait for me?” I ask.

He nods. “I would be doing a lot more than that.” He lifts my
chin. “Can you promise that you’ll think about it, Ava?”

I love the way he says my name in that rumble of his. As if
I’m the only star in the sky.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I can do that.”

His breath is tickling my face as he kisses me. His scent is
intoxicating. The thought of being away from him is unbearable.

I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him, and yet I’m
doing exactly that.

I don’t know how long we’re standing frozen in time, our
arms wrapped around each other. Breathing each other in, while building up the
courage to let each other go.

But I know I cannot give up my life. It would be too crazy.
Too insane. All the money and time spent for my education, my future, I would
have to give up. For what? For a guy who rocked my world for all of six days?

And yet—

My heart is asking me to be with him. Not seeing him again
would shatter me.

Moving on…it’s what I’m supposed to do.

That’s what everyone would advise me to do.

In my mind, I can hear my parents’ voices and Mandy’s and
all their warnings about not giving up my life for a guy.

Saying goodbye will be hard. Harder than before, when I was
clueless and Kellan a mystery.

But what if, for once, I break the rules, let my heart lead
the way?

What if Kellan is that one single chance at finding
happiness and love?

What if staying is the right decision?

What if building memories throughout life is more important
than a career or being famous?

“Kellan?” I lift my head from his chest and look up at him.
My voice is shaking. My head is spinning from all the questions and the choices
I have to make. My soul is split.

But the heart wants what it wants.

There is a short silence as he tries to read my expression.
“Yeah?”

Just like before, I can feel he’s nervous, or maybe I’m
seeing my own reflection in his eyes.

I trail a shaky finger over his cheek, enjoying the chafing
sensation of his evening stubble on my skin.

“I cannot believe what I’m about to say—” I swallow
hard “—but I’m staying. I’m giving us a chance.”

His lips curl into a perfect smile. “I want you to.”

“It’s crazy. You know it is.”

“Yeah, it is.” He laughs, the deep sound reverberating
through his chest and penetrating every layer of me. “I know this is a hard
decision for you. Will it help if I give you a good reason for it?”

“Maybe. Depends.”

“Okay.” He turns me around until my back is pressed against
his chest. At first, I’m not sure what he’s doing, until his arms go around my
waist, embracing me from behind. I can feel his breath on me, hear him inhaling
the scent of my hair, his nose nestling between my shoulder blade and neck.

“I love you, Ava,” he whispers. “I don’t know where things
will lead us. I don’t know what our friends will say, or what the future has in
store for us, or if this is one big mistake. But there’s one thing I’m absolutely
certain of. I love you. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you before
we’ve even begun.”

I turn around, shocked. The magnitude of the moment dawns on
me…and yet I’m not quite able to grasp it. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t like the fact that I fell
in love with you. I couldn’t think of anything else but you. You occupied my
day and night, every moment, every breath. After months of thinking about you
and six days together, I think it’s about time that you know I love you. And
that I’m absolutely certain…” He trails off.

He loves me?

I blink, then blink some more.

I love you too,
I
want to yell, but I can’t with the rock lodged in my throat.

“You’re absolutely certain that…” I prompt, barely able to
breathe.

“That I want to marry you.” His expression is deadpan.

I frown, unsure what he’s talking about.

He can’t possibly—

I stare at him, trying to catch a sign that he’s joking. And
then it hits me.

Holy shit.

Holy. Crap.

My hands begin to shake.

“Wait. Are you proposing to me?” I ask, feeling really
stupid for even saying something like that out loud.

I must have misunderstood.

“Yes, Ava. I am,” Kellan says slowly. “Or why else do you
think I’d be talking about destiny and all that stuff?” He cocks his head, a
naughty grin on his lips. “So, the answer is…”

“No.” There is no doubt about it. I can’t lie. “I love you,
too, Kellan,” I whisper. “I love you, but you can be a jerk. There’s no way, absolutely
no way, I’m getting married to you after six days. That’s crazy. That’s
insane.”

“I love crazy and insane.” He laughs at my horrified
expression. “In fact, this is such a great idea. That ‘no’ of yours—” he
winks “—we’ll see about that. I tricked you once, you know, when you
didn’t want to fuck me. I did it again when I persuaded you to stay. What are
the chances the third time’s a charm?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes, and it sure
doesn’t fit the context,” I say, annoyed that, yes, he’s been pretty good at
persuading me, and I didn’t even notice. “Kellan, we’re not getting married
just because you feel the need to get your way with me.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding.

I narrow my eyes because I don’t trust him. He’s never been
one to give up easily. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Sure. Whatever you say, baby.” His lips find mine in a
sweet kiss that soon turns not so sweet after all, as his hands begin to roam
over my ass and travel places.

Two years later

If I had known that my first meeting with Kellan would be
followed with the loss of his sister, I would have accepted his first offer
sooner and ignored my mind harder, if only to join him faster. If only to ease
his mourning. It’s clear that her death made him face his own demons and
question his own beliefs, that she is the reason for the immense change in his
life.

It’s a slow process. Healing can take time, but I’m patient
and confident.

While he doesn’t blame himself for her death anymore, I
still sense his regret for not being home when she was here.

I would have loved to meet Clara. I think we would have
bonded. And it’s thanks to her that Kellan’s life is where he wants it to be.

He’s different now compared to the first time we met. The arrogance
is almost gone. Left behind is a caring, down-to-earth, and committed man. He
says that’s who he was before he became famous. I don’t know if that’s true.
All I know is that I love him and I don’t miss K. Taylor one bit.

Today marks the day we first met in front of Club 69. I
might have only known him for two short years, but he and Mandy are the people
I trust the most. He’s closer to me than anyone’s ever been.

More than my parents. Even more than my best friends.

If someone had told me Kellan would change my life for the
better, I would have laughed. In so many ways, I changed too.

As it turned out, there was never a question of whether I
wanted to quit my old life. Things would have turned out the way they have
anyway:

The moment the lines were back on and I switched on my
phone, I received a
nice
voicemail
from my boss from Hell, in which TB declared me fired for switching off my
phone. Apparently, by being caught in a storm, I was violating one of the
clauses in my work contract, which stipulated that I was to be available to her
at all times.

My parents didn’t even notice I was away. They were too busy
with their own lives and work at the orchestra, so they didn’t even pretend to
miss me when I told them about moving to Montana.

During their one-week vacation, Mandy had invited Josh to
come to NYC and stay with us in our tiny apartment, as if it wasn’t already too
crowded. Apparently, it sort of clicked between them and they were dating. So,
moving back there wasn’t even an option. I mean, no one wants to be the third
wheel, right?

Last but not least, after the hurricane alert, my landlord
panicked and decided to double our rent, in spite of the fact that a pipe had
burst during our vacation. So I paid my share, thanked TB for the work
experience, sent my parents an email to inform them of my new address, then
tied up all loose ends, packed my bags, and moved to Montana.

That’s where I’ve now been for almost two years. Kellan’s
family and friends have become my home.

So, no, I don’t regret the change. As it turns out, trust
your heart because she knows better.

Kellan was the right decision, the right choice.

I love my new life.

While I still love to help Kellan with the farm every once
in a while, he does have people who do most of the work. I’ve become a
freelance journalist and earn good money. (You hear that, TB? You can shove
that job up your tiny ass.)

I haven’t been to NYC in a long time, and at first, I
thought I would miss it, but I don’t. I don’t miss it at all. I had been so engrossed
with my work that I forgot how to breathe, to live in the moment, to not take
people around me for granted. Stripped bare of all the things that come with
working for someone like TB, I recognize how stressful my life had been. It
makes me wonder how much pressure Kellan was under when he was on tour. I have
no doubt that sooner or later, he would have turned into an addict like Rock,
or suicidal like Casper.

As to Kellan’s previous life, his music company spun a
sensational story that he was fired. Apparently something about him being hard
to work with.

The lie annoys me to no end, but Kellan says it’s okay.

Just as expected, the news that K. Taylor was no longer the
lead singer of Mile High resulted in a mass panic among the female population.
Rumors started to circulate that he had checked into rehab like Rock, that he
had OD’ed, that he had disappeared from the surface of the earth—all not
true, obviously.

Kellan didn’t seem the least bothered about all the wild
speculation. Maybe it was all pretense, or maybe he really didn’t give a damn.
He says his previous life is nothing but a past chapter in a long book.

He’s probably right.

After five months, the rumors began to die down, and the
tabloids moved on. The next big headline made its way to the front pages, and
Kellan was forgotten.

Mile High hasn’t achieved the same success. It’s not because
of the new lead singer—the replacement is almost as good as Kellan, but
only almost. With the mask on, they even look a bit alike, and people have been
claiming that the story of K. Taylor’s dropout was nothing but a propaganda
spin to get media coverage.

As it happens, Mile High has slowly been disappearing off
the radar, maybe because the new lead singer doesn’t quite have K. Taylor’s
allure.

To me, they don’t look alike.

I would recognize Kellan’s broad shoulders and magnetic
green eyes anywhere.

It’s a new band—a bunch of eighteen-year-olds from
Mississippi—that has taken the world by storm. Including Mandy.

Talk about so not being loyal to her old band. She even had the
nerve to ask me to go see them live, which, of course, I declined politely.

It’s one of those little secrets I’ll take with me to the
grave because I’d never think of saying something to Kellan that might hurt
him.

The only thing I regret is not having accepted his marriage
proposal that night when I heard him sing for the first time. Back then, I
convinced myself that it was just a joke, even though it had felt very real.

He hasn’t mentioned it again, and I’m not going to raise the
subject.

I guess he’s forgotten. I guess, too, that at that time I
wasn’t ready.

But I am now. More so because I’m expecting.

Only, I have no idea how Kellan will react.

The thought of telling him makes me a little sick.

I still haven’t told Mandy about it because she can never
keep her mouth shut, and I’m afraid she’ll drop not-so-subtle hints to Kellan
at every opportunity. Part of me wants to pick up the phone and call her, while
another part of me refrains from doing so. I’ve been torn about it every single
time we talk on the phone, and that’s almost daily.

Music is still a huge part of Kellan’s life. It’s inside
him, in his blood. It’s his way to express his soul, much like a writer lives
for pouring their heart out through words. He often lets me sit in a corner,
out of his vision, listening to his beautiful, smoky voice when he’s composing
one of his songs, which he usually goes on to play at Sharon’s bar on a
Saturday night whenever he feels like it.

***

It’s early evening, and Kellan’s not back yet. I’m sitting
on the couch in the living room, cradling my laptop on my lap, a mug of coffee
on the side table, when I hear the door open. I look up from my notes to Sniper
trotting toward me.

“Good boy, Sniper.” My hand reaches out to pat him, when I
notice there’s something in his mouth. He lets it drop to my feet. I pick up
the small piece of paper and laugh. “I hope you didn’t dig this up from some
grave.”

The dog wags his tail in response.

I unfold the paper and realize it’s a handwritten note that
reads:

Take Brenna and come
to the barn.

I put my laptop aside and rise from my sitting position
quickly. Even though Kellan can be pretty monosyllabic at times, his note makes
me worried. It’s probably about one of his horses, and he needs me. It wouldn’t
be the first time he’s asking for my help.

Sniper follows me outside.
 

The ride to the barn only takes me a few minutes. Brenna
might be the quietest horse, but she’s a real cannon. Thanks to all the riding
lessons I’ve had with Kellan (not all have involved a horse), I’m not afraid of
riding her. The only thing I still refuse to learn to ride is a bull, even
though it’s a tradition among the Boyd brothers. It took me a whole week to
convince Kellan to give it up for the time being out of fear that he might
break his neck.

As I’m nearing the barn, I can make out the horses in the
meadows, but there is no sign of Kellan.

I dismount Brenna and bind her to a post.

“Kellan?” I call out and cock my head to listen.

There’s no reply, which can only mean Kellan is either busy
with a horse inside the barn and can’t hear me, or he’s writing a new song and
has his headphones on.

 
I heave a little
sigh and stroll through the open doors of the barn, freezing in place.

The entire ceiling is covered in red, heart-shaped balloons.
The walls have been painted off-white. LED light curtains bathe the entire
place in a beautiful glow.

Pink confetti and rose petals litter the spread-out rug.

On the right side, tables and chairs have been set up, as
though we’re having a party. On the far end, people have gathered, among which
I spy Mandy, my parents, Josh, and Kellan’s brother Ryder. Even Cash is here,
which must be a sure sign that someone has died because the guy’s either glued
to one of his clubs’ décor or the back of a bull.

I stare, unsure what’s going on, when my gaze catches Kellan’s.
He’s dressed in a tailored suit that manages to emphasize his broad shoulders
and narrow hips. And is that a haircut? Compared to his usual jeans and shirt
and tousled hair, he looks so different I’m not sure this is the same person
I’m dating.

People begin to follow his line of vision, and within
seconds, everyone’s staring at me.

What the heck?

Someone takes my hand. It’s the neighbor’s kid—a
chubby five-year-old girl in a beautiful dress.

“What’s going on?” I mumble.

The kid tugs at my hand, leading me through the crowd to
Kellan.

He’s standing on a makeshift platform, cradling a microphone
in his hand. Behind him, Ryder and Cash arrange their guitar and bass.

Cash nods at me encouragingly, and Mandy smiles. I think I’m
pretty good at reading faces, so I know something’s going on, but for the life
of me, I can’t figure out what this is all about.

Why’s everyone here?

Was I so involved in my work that I forgot about a birthday
party?

I shoot Kellan a questioning look. He nods at his brothers,
and they start playing.

His beautiful green eyes pierce me a moment before he starts
to sing, his voice raw and gritty and breathtaking.

She chipped my car

No words she said

Left me behind with a
scar

As she drove miles
away

In a Ford as old as my
pop

So I called Ryder,
who’s a cop

Who are you,

My check torn in two

My heart in a strange
place

Don’t know your name

Wish I could see you
one more time

To tell you that I’ll
make you mine

To teach you how to
make love on the floor

Make you plead and
scream for more

City girl,

I’m only a cowboy

I know this will drive
you insane

But when I say I want
you to stay

I mean it for real and
for life

Oh baby,

When you hear this
song

Better listen

It’s the song you
don’t wanna miss

Beautiful, sexy, hot
and kind

Just a few words that
come to mind

When I look at you

All I wanna do

Happy, joyful,
excited, and mad in love

Pound, pulse, shudder,
throbbing

Just a few words that
come to mind

When I look at you

All I wanna do

Oh baby,

When you hear this
song

Better listen

It’s the song you
don’t wanna miss

When I look at you

All I wanna do

He kneels before me, grinning, and the music stops—in
the middle of the refrain. The silence is heavy and thick, as though everyone’s
forgotten to breathe. I stare at Kellan, whose right hand is reaching for mine,
while his left hand is still holding up the mic.