Placing my palm on the tattoo of my name over his heart, I leaned up and kissed him. As if to punctuate just what he’d said, both of our cell phones started ringing again and Tory pounded on our door. “Ten minutes, Kyle!”
I was done hiding our relationship. So, when the dark SUV the label hired dropped us off at the venue, I held hands with Kellan as we walked inside. The swarm of paparazzi waiting on the other side of the security fence was massive; I’d never seen so many cameras in all my life. They immediately reacted when they saw the two of us together. Flashbulbs blinked on and off in rhythmic, random patterns. The crowd clamoring for the best shot of Kellan and I looked like a wide, chaotic Christmas tree, its lights struggling to outshine the sun on this crisp fall afternoon. The tall man in the middle only needed an angel on his head to complete the effect. I was grateful for the warmth and strength emanating from Kellan’s hand as he squeezed mine tight—I felt like my entire body was falling apart, I was shaking so much.
This was so far outside of my comfort zone that I was pretty sure I was bumping into someone else’s comfort zone. But instead of cowering and hiding, I lifted my head and straightened my back. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and I had nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. The fans in the crowd took my resolve as arrogance. Words drifted over the lot. Hurtful words—whore, slut, home wrecker, bitch, and several others that I couldn’t even repeat in my own head. Kellan was squeezing my palm painfully hard by the time we were safely behind closed doors. I shook my hand so he’d let some blood flow back into my fingers.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I had to hold on to you to stop myself from smacking a few heads.”
I smiled up at him. “Considering that most of the bodies attached to those heads are young, female fans of yours, I’d say it’s a very good thing that you didn’t punch any of them.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Well, don’t think I didn’t want to.”
“Don’t think I didn’t want to either,” I joked. Well, half-joked.
Kellan and I found our way to the D-Bags’ dressing room. The rest of the D-Bags were already there when we entered. Anna was too. Standing next to a small table overflowing with snacks, she was pouring a bag of M&Ms into a gigantic bowl of freshly popped popcorn. Plodding over to a chair, she eased herself down and balanced the bowl on her belly. As Kellan walked over to Matt and Evan, I sat beside her.
“Hey,” I muttered, watching the bowl shift a little as Maximus moved beneath it.
Anna shoved a handful of popcorn and chocolate into her mouth. “Hey, heard you’re a bitch whore for stealing Sienna’s man.”
Leaning my head back on the chair, I smiled over at my sister. “Yep. I officially, globally suck.”
Anna chewed her food for a minute, then smiled. “Well, cunt or not, I still love you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Hancock, I love you too.” Laughing, I reached over for some popcorn. Anna smacked my hand away.
“Loving you doesn’t mean I’m sharing my popcorn.” She pointed over to the table. “Grab your own goodies . . . bitch whore.”
Exaggerating a grieved groan, I prepared myself to stand up. I paused when I noticed Anna cringing and pressing a knuckle into her back. “You okay, sis?”
She nodded. “Yeah, just a backache. It comes and goes . . . I’m fine.”
She seemed pale to me, her face wan and weary. Maybe it was just because she wasn’t wearing her usual expertly applied eye shadow and mascara. I was used to seeing my sister all done up. It used to drive my dad crazy that she rarely went anywhere without makeup. He’d often say, “Why do you need mascara if you’re just going to sit in a dark movie theater?” Her answer was always the same, “Because I have to walk through the lobby to get there, Dad.” Just the fact that she hadn’t decorated her eyes today spoke volumes on how tired she was.
“Anna, maybe you should go back to the bus and lie down.”
She shook her head; even her hair seemed a little lackluster today. “I want to listen to the show. Griff’s going to do a little solo for me.” Her smile, while still clearly pained, was full of love for her husband. God, I still couldn’t get used to that word being connected with Griffin.
Tory came in a bit later to grab the guys for their meet-and-greet. Not wanting to disrupt Kellan’s job by unnecessarily riling up his fans, I decided to stay in the dressing room. Anna looked too comfortable to follow Griffin, so she stayed behind with me. Or maybe she wasn’t comfortable at all. I couldn’t tell. She seemed fine on the surface, but every few minutes she would get a weird, focused look on her face, and she’d start inhaling and exhaling in a slow, controlled way. Then she’d be fine and she’d resume munching her popcorn. It was strange.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Anna?”
Squishing an M&M between her fingers, she frowned. “No, actually.” Tilting her head to examine her bowl of snacks, she complained, “All of the chocolate shifted to the bottom of the bowl.”