Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)

The hospital staff seemed surprised that he would want to address “the little people,” but I wasn’t. Kellan had watched these fans hold a vigil for him night after chilly night. Thanking them for their endless dedication was the least he could do. Knowing Kellan, he probably wanted to give each person a warm hug and a personalized message of gratitude. There were a lot of them, though, and Kellan and I did have a plane to catch. Since Kellan was in no shape to continue the tour right now, we were going to take Gavin up on his offer and spend a few weeks recouping in Pennsylvania before visiting my parents in Ohio. It was a break I was really looking forward to taking—Kellan too.

Taking back the wheelchair handles, I steered Kellan toward a large cluster of people hovering near the corner; the other D-Bags respectfully stayed by the car, giving Kellan a moment alone with his fans. Well, most of them were respectful. Matt had to shove Griffin into the limo to keep him from trying to steal the spotlight.

The screams from the crowd were earsplitting, and I hoped nobody on this side of the hospital was trying to sleep. When Kellan was close enough, he reached back and put his fingers over mine in a silent thank-you. Holding up his other hand, he silenced the crowd.

“I can’t thank you enough for your devotion and your prayers.” He shook his head, and some of the girls directly in front of him sighed. “I saw you. Every night I saw you standing out here in the cold . . . for me. You don’t know how much that means to me, how much each and every one of you means to me.” His eyes scanned the crowd, a crowd that was struggling to act mature and not squeal like little girls. “I will never forget this.” He squeezed my hand, and I knew he didn’t just mean the fans. This place, this moment in time would live on forever for us. We were married here.

Kellan thanked the crowd, and I started to turn him away. A brave girl off to our side shouted, “Congratulations on your marriage!”

Kellan looked back at her with an achingly sexy half-smile on his lips. “Thank you.” The poor girl looked like she might pass out, so I quickly wheeled him away.

Amid the screams of his leaving, I leaned down and whispered, “You just can’t help it, can you?”

His expression innocent, he asked, “Help what?”

Smiling, I kissed his cheek. “Being ridiculously attractive.”

He was shaking his head as I helped him into the limo. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only ridiculous one here,” he murmured, grunting in pain as he transferred his weight.

I rolled my eyes as I got into the car behind him. Nice try, but Kellan knew he was attractive. He may have doubted that anyone actually cared about him, but his looks had never escaped him. Being openly ogled everywhere you go will do that to you, I guess.

Everyone’s bags were inside the limo as we headed straight for the airport; even Kellan’s guitar was there. The D-Bags were parting ways, and that thought made me sad. I was going to miss my extended family. But the tour was over for them. By the time Kellan was healed enough to return, only a few weeks of Sienna’s tour would be left. Instead of rejoining Sienna for the last leg, the boys had decided that they would take a break and work on songs for their second album. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It hadn’t entirely been the boys’ decision.

Sienna had made her public apology the day after our wedding. Showing up on a popular morning show, she’d tearfully confessed to her fans that she’d helped fabricate and prolong her relationship with Kellan. She told her fans that she “got swept up in the game, and let money and success override common decency.” She apologized to all of the fans for misleading them, and begged for their forgiveness. She’d ended her speech by telling the world that she would be completing the remainder of her tour without the D-Bags, so Kellan had ample time to rest and relax with his wife.

The fans were naturally quite upset with her, and from what I’d heard, tickets sales for the remainder of the tour had dropped considerably.

Even though it seemed too small a gesture, I sent her a thank-you card.

Nick immediately started planning a new tour for the boys—a tour that, just as Justin had predicted, they were going to headline. He called Kellan while we were enjoying a peaceful evening together with Gavin, Riley, and Hailey. In as polite a way as he could, Kellan told Nick that any and all arrangements for the band would need to be made through their new agent, Denny Harris. When he hung up with Nick, he had a huge smile on his face. “That was fun.”

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