“It wasn’t so hard,” Kellan says, as though reading my thoughts. “The contract was for five albums. I just told them that I wouldn’t do another. Countless lawyers were involved, but in the end, they realized they couldn’t force me to stay.”
“How did they take it?”
“Not well.” His dark expression lights up. “But anyone can wear a mask, right? My manager found a replacement, so it’s all final. The news will be out next month, as soon as the PR department’s done coming up with whatever bullshit story they think will sell best. Until then, this is one huge secret no one’s supposed to know about. Except my team, my family, and…” He points his thumb at me. “You.”
“So… officially, you’re still the lead singer of Mile High.” He nods. “And privately, you’re—”
“Only a cowboy.”
I nod gravely and tilt my head back.
Only a cowboy.
I like the sound of that.
A soft smile tugs at his lips as his hands cup my face. “I’m getting older, Ava. In eighteen months, I’ll be thirty. That’s like a dinosaur in music years. It was about time I retired and went back to my roots. To a time when things were simple. To the things I once took for granted.” He draws a deep breath, hesitating. “Of course, it’s scary to leave everything behind, but you know, it’s another reason why I wanted you to get to know the real me, not the image that I’ve been feeding to the public. To most people out there, I’ll always be K. Taylor. But to you, I want to be Kellan Boyd.”
“I think I like the real Kellan Boyd,” I whisper so low I doubt he can hear me.
“Come with me.” Before I know what’s happening, he leads me away from the street, through the meadow, to an old wooden fence.
Away from the lights, the stars are more prominent.
He takes my hand and helps me climb up the fence until I sit on top of it, then he joins me. We’re sitting so close our arms almost brush, but his proximity feels right.
Everything about him feels right.
Except the fact that he’s famous, and I’m just some ordinary girl from NYC.
“I love it here.” My low voice sounds surprisingly alien, surreal.
In the silence around us, I can’t stop thinking about his sister, about the dream of a real cowboy to support his family, and the risks he took to get there.
Kellan has an amazing voice, and music is his passion.
People out there deserve to hear his songs.
I want to hear his songs, but I also feel sad for the man who wanted to quit all along, and yet didn’t, until it was too late and his sister had already died serving her country.
“I love it too. But I love it even more now that you’re here,” Kellan says.
C HAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“So, what do you think?” Kellan asks.
He is nervous. His tone is less forceful than usual. Less sure of himself. “Here I am, famous and rich, and I’m going to throw it all away. Not the money, of course, but everything else. Does that sound sane to you?”
Sane?
What is sane?
Besides, who am I to judge what is sane for him, and what isn’t?
“It think it sounds human.” I smile at him. “You must be really sick of your job.”
He lets out a laugh. “You have no idea.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “What you’re doing is definitely better than planning to kill your boss. Take me, for example. I sure would kill mine, if I thought I’d get away with it.”
Which is just a joke, obviously.
But TB is unbearable. The mere thought of her breathing down my neck has me covered in a cold sweat.
“I knew you’d get me.” His voice is serious again. His foot is tapping against the wood. His whole posture is tense.
“Yep, kindred spirits and all.”
“So, now that you know the truth, has your opinion about me changed?” he asks. “Are you disappointed?”
In the soft moonlight, I can see that he’s still smiling, but his nervousness is obvious. He doesn’t need to say why he’s feeling this way. I understand.
Quitting his job and turning his back on a world he’s lived in for years is unsettling. The future’s unpredictable.
People won’t know the exact circumstances. Rumors will soon spread. The tabloids will say that he failed, entered rehab, died. Soon, people will move on and forget him. He’ll become a nobody to them.
As a journalist, I know. This business is cruel. It doesn’t care about one’s feelings. It only cares about money and selling more copies than the competition.
“Disappointed? Hell, no. I’m actually glad.” My fingers move to intertwine with his. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like things to be complicated.”
He stays silent for a long time.
“Those six days with you were amazing, Ava,” he says at last. “Before, I didn’t know if I could trust you, but you turned out to be exactly the woman I thought you were.”
I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment. I still haven’t quite figured out the Kellan Boyd, but I’d like to dedicate my time to solve the mystery he is.
“And who do you think I am?” I ask.
“Someone who’s amazing. Someone I want to get to know in depth.”