I clamped down on my lip so hard, I thought I might draw blood. Did I seriously just tell him to send me a d-pic? I really never thought I’d ever ask him that. Then again, there were a lot of things I’d never expected myself to do with Kellan. He opened me in very unexpected ways.
Just as I was wondering if Kellan really would send a picture, he told me, “Hold on.” Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I heard his jeans unzipping. Oh. My. God.
I wasn’t sure if I could handle the erotic image he was about to send to me. My body was already aching for him to touch me. Seeing how much he missed me, how much he wanted me . . . might undo me.
The phone went silent, then his heavy breath returned to my ear. I wasn’t sure if he’d done it or not, then my phone chirped at me. I closed my eyes for a second, nerves and excitement washing over me. God, I missed him so much. “Kellan,” I murmured, as I pulled my phone away from my ear.
Careful not to hang up on him, I checked the message he’d just sent me. My jaw dropped when I opened it. He did it. He actually did it. He sent me a picture of himself in his most exposed and vulnerable state. True, Kellan wasn’t nearly as reserved as I was, and this probably wasn’t as monumental for him as it was for me, but still . . .
I couldn’t stop staring at the photograph. Oddly enough, considering the subject, it was artistic and beautiful. Kellan’s pictures usually were. He was bold and proud, the lighting was flattering, and his left hand was arranged in such a way that his wedding ring seemed to glow at me, as if to say, This is yours, wife, and yours alone. It was fascinating, breathtaking, sweet, and hot, all at the same time. The fire tingling me before shifted to a full-on blaze. I needed him . . . immediately.
“Kiera? You still there?”
I quickly brought the phone back to my ear. “I need you to touch me, Kellan . . . right now.”
This time, he did chuckle. “Needless to say, I need you to touch me too.”
The image of his body permanently etched in my brain, I moaned his name . . . and it wasn’t the last time his name left my lips that night. . . .
I had a dopey smile on my face as I walked into work the next evening. It fell from my lips when I noticed what Jenny had done to the bar. Against my wishes, Jenny had decorated for my going-away party. Every archway and table was highlighted with twisting pink and white streamers. Balloons in every color of the rainbow dotted the ceiling. Long strings were tied to each one, dangling low enough so that people could grab them; the customers were having a great time yanking them down and watching them float back up. A huge banner was attached to the black wall behind the stage, right above the band’s drawing. In embarrassingly tall letters, it screamed: GOODBYE, KIERA! GOOD LUCK! WE’LL MISS YOU!
It warmed and mortified me. Low-key, my ass!
Jenny trotted up to me as I stood gaping in the doorway. She gave me a swift hug as I exclaimed, “Jenny! What happened to having a small cake in the back room?”
Her smile big and beautiful, she shrugged as we pulled apart. “Don’t worry, there’s still a cake in the back room for you.” Her pale eyes flicked around the bar, then back to me. “I just felt like your send-off needed a little . . . pizzazz. This is a huge moment for you, after all. You’re not just leaving the bar, you’re leaving Seattle.” She frowned.
I sighed but couldn’t really argue with her, especially as I watched her eyes mist over. So even though I really wanted to tear down all of the streamers and pop every balloon, I enclosed her in another hug instead. I guess I could put up with a few decorations for one evening; I drew the line at the party hat that she pulled out for me, though. I may have to feel like an idiot tonight, but I didn’t want to look like one as well.
Nearly everyone I knew in Seattle came to Pete’s to wish me well on my upcoming journey—my sister, my study buddies from school, the regular customers that I’d served almost every night, a couple of friends that I’d made in art class. Denny came in and sat at the band’s table, joking and laughing with the bouncer, Sam.
It was comforting to have everyone that I cared about so close to me. I couldn’t imagine leaving them all in a couple of days. The change almost seemed too monumental, and a part of me didn’t think I could do it—but I remembered my phone call with Kellan the night before and what was waiting for me in L.A., and I knew I could do it. It would hurt to leave, but it’s what I had to do. Besides, growing pains were supposed to hurt a little.