“Fuck! I give up!” Kellan called out.
The crowd around us started laughing as the awkward drumming ended. I twisted my head back to Kellan. He’d tossed the drumsticks out onto the floor and was resting his head on the snare drum in defeat. Evan clapped my back. “I think I broke him. You may need to console him before the show.”
I was laughing as I walked up to my dejected husband. When he felt me beside him, he glanced up. “I suck,” he muttered, his lips curving into a full-blown puppy dog pout.
Resisting the urge to suck on that lip, I extended my palm and helped him stand up. “You can’t be a pro at everything, Kellan,” I told him, fingering his wedding ring before letting go of his right hand.
Kellan’s eyes turned heated as he stared at me. Voice as husky as his eyes, he responded with, “You’re right. I’ll just stick to what I’m really, really good at.” His vision traveled down my body, the fire in his eyes tingling my skin like a Fourth of July sparkler.
I wanted to remind him to behave, but he instantly switched moods. Expression now curious, he asked, “What did Sienna say?”
Walking with him around the people busy working, I recounted my confusing conversation. “She said we were overreacting.” I watched him as I continued. His gaze was speculative and disbelieving; he didn’t agree. “She also said she’d ease up on the cuddling.”
Kellan smirked. “She’s said that before. But then a camera gets pointed in her direction and she . . . forgets.” He rolled his eyes. “Gotta give the fans what they want. She’s a performer to the core.”
“It’s how she was raised. It’s how she survived the transition from child star to superstar.” I blinked at my words. Did I really just defend her?
Kellan seemed surprised as well as he held open the door to his empty dressing room. “I get that. I think the only thing I really do get about her is that her childhood sucked just as much as mine did.”
The door closed behind us, and I looped my arms around his neck. My face serious, I told him, “No, her childhood was nothing like yours, Kellan. Not even close.”
Ancient sadness filled his eyes as he nodded, and I squeezed him tight in an attempt to prove to him that my love was stronger than their hate.
Later, when the D-Bags were on stage, Anna came up to me as I watched Kellan singing his heart out from my behind-the-scenes vantage point. I usually used this time every evening to work on my newly conceived book. Writing two books at the same time probably wasn’t the best way to finish one, but whenever I watched Kellan play, my creative juices started flowing and I had no choice but to pour it out onto my laptop screen. He was my own personal muse.
I paused mid-sentence and glanced up at my sister. She looked a little uncomfortable as she rubbed a spot on the lower left side of her belly. Her green eyes shimmered a little in the stage lights. I didn’t know if that was because she was feeling emotional or just really tired. Supporting a life had to be exhausting, not to mention dealing with Griffin. Remembering Anna’s monumental admittance during the meet-and-greet today, I wondered if she was okay.
Closing my laptop and setting it on the floor, I stood and pointed at my straight-backed chair. “Do you want to sit down?” It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but at least she could rest her feet.
Her eyes glued on the stage, Anna muttered, “Thanks,” and worked her way onto the hard metal. As she tilted her head to keep the boys in her sight, or maybe just one boy in her sight, I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She covered them well with concealer, but I could see just a smidge of purplish-black. She would never admit it, but she was worn. She really should go home and rest up while she had the chance.
Putting a hand on her shoulder, I asked, “You okay, sis?”
She immediately lifted her chin, her liquid eyes drying. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
There were so many things I could point out, but instead I focused on the one aspect that seemed the easiest for her to talk about—the physical discomfort of being pregnant. “You keep rubbing your side.”
She grimaced and looked at the spot that she was now firmly holding. “Maximus keeps kicking me in the exact same spot.” She sighed when she returned her eyes to mine. “I think he’s bruised a rib or two.”
The remark left my mouth before I could stop it. “Well, he wouldn’t be part Griffin if he wasn’t a pain in your side.”
Anna smirked at me. “He’s not as bad as you think he is.”
Remembering the few surprising conversations I’d had with Griffin lately, I nodded. “I know.”