With no frame of reference, I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Seeing my lost expression, Kellan clarified. “Making an album, going on tour . . . am I making a mistake?” The room filled with steam as I hopped off of the counter. Kellan grabbed my hand when I stepped in front of him. “All I want is a quiet life with you,” he continued. “What I just signed up for . . . isn’t exactly a quiet life.”
Wondering how to comfort him—when I often thought the same thing—I reached up and ran my thumb over his healing wound. “Kellan, your life will never be quiet, no matter what you do.” He laughed at my reference, the confusion on his face lifting. I placed my hand on his chest and looked him square in the eye. “You belong on a stage. It’s what you were born to do.”
Even though it was contradictory to the peace and quiet we both wanted, I knew without a doubt that my statement was true. Kellan was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He was living out his destiny. But that didn’t have to mean that we would give up on a peaceful life together. It just meant we had to be flexible. Giving him a soft kiss, I murmured, “We will just have to find moments of quiet in the chaos, and we’re pretty good at that.”
Kellan returned my soft kiss. “Yeah . . . we are.” Tilting his head toward the shower, he raised an eyebrow in question. I knew what he was asking: Want to join me? A large part of me wanted to say yes, but we had important things to do today, and I had two ever-watchful parents downstairs that we were trying to impress with our restraint. And I was pretty sure there wasn’t near enough hot water left in the tank.
Shaking my head, I gave him a final kiss, then gathered up his laundry. He frowned at me, then shucked off the rest of his clothes and put them in my arms. “Thank you for the pep talk,” he said, leaning over to kiss my cheek.
I tried to keep my eyes on his face, I really did, but I couldn’t resist a peek or two at his body. “You’re welcome.”
My cheeks flushed as I watched him step into the shower. He swished the curtain into place and started humming a song. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, listening to him; I could listen to him all day. Suddenly, he sucked in a sharp breath and swore. I glanced back at his shadow through the pale curtain. “You okay?”
He stuck his head out; his messy head of hair was completely slicked back and looked darker than it usually did, almost as dark as Denny’s. “Yeah . . . damn scratch stings.”
I wanted to frown at the pain that bitch had given him, but the petulant look on his face was so adorable that I ended up giggling instead. He wasn’t amused by that and ducked back into the shower. “I could set some bandages out for you if you like?” I asked, a merry lilt to my tone.
Kellan let out a loud exhale. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Big baby,” I mumbled, opening the door.
Mom was coming up the stairs when I emerged into the hallway. Her face brightened as she saw me. Her long, elegant finger pointed to a section of the glossy magazine that she had in her hands. “I just found the most beautiful bouquet in the world. You have to take a look at this.”
Arms full of Kellan’s sweaty clothes, I tossed on a smile. “Sure, Mom . . . no problem. Let me just get these in the laundry first.”
She nodded enthusiastically as she followed me into the bedroom.
When were she and Dad leaving again?
Chapter 4
Goodbye for Now
I was in the guest room with my mom when Kellan finished in the shower. She was explaining the pros and cons of having an all-white bouquet. Mom was so absorbed in her debate, she didn’t notice Kellan walking into our bedroom with only a tiny towel around his waist. Then again, seeing him wouldn’t have changed the conversation any.
For a moment, I wondered if I should ask Kellan to come in here so he could give his opinion on the floral arrangement. I didn’t, though. For one thing, he needed to get ready to go. And secondly, I didn’t think Mom really cared about his opinion. She certainly hadn’t asked him anything about it so far. For some reason, all of the wedding details were being heaped solely on me, like only I had a say.
That wasn’t true, though. I didn’t have a say. I’d told Mom multiple times that I wanted a simple, short, private ceremony . . . if I had to have one at all. My impromptu marriage at Pete’s was perfect, and I was fine with going to the courthouse to casually sign the papers that would make it official. Then we could have a small, quiet reception with a few friends and family. Mom wouldn’t hear it, though. She was deadset on a gigantic shindig.
Kellan came into the guest room when he was dressed. He was reading something on his phone and grinning ear to ear. Mom stopped telling me that wildflowers weren’t really classy enough for a wedding and looked up at Kellan. The scratch from Joey looked better now that his skin was clean and full of moisture. The red line was unmistakable, though, and Mom looked over at me after spotting it.