Kellen bit his lip. “I keep saying that, keep telling myself that we can. But deep down I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything right now.” He took a deep breath. “Except you. I’m sure about you, Dawn.”
“I’ll cancel this week’s performance and meet you in . . . Where are you?”
“No. Don’t do that. Go to Prague. Make grown men weep with the beauty of your music. By the time you get back, I’m sure I’ll have myself sorted out.”
“I feel terrible,” she said. “Everything is going so well for me, and your band is falling apart. I know how important they are to you. Do you want to come to Prague?”
He did want to go to her. Go to Prague. Hold her as tightly as he needed to be held, but . . .
“We might get this mess sorted out, and I’ll need to be here for the next tour date. I’m sort of stuck at the moment.”
“I wish I could be there with you,” she said.
He wished that too, but didn’t want to make her feel any worse. “I’ll be okay.”
Owen came out of the bathroom, which he’d been using as his personal sanctuary, and Kellen offered him a comforting smile. “I’m going to let you go,” he told Dawn. “You have to be up early for your flight. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“If you need me for anything, call. I might not be able to be there in person, but I’m there in spirit.”
“I know you are. I can feel you.”
After they said their goodbyes, he tucked his phone into his pocket. He patted the sofa beside him, and Owen collapsed into the spot. Owen tilted his head back and rubbed his eyes with one hand as he let loose a lion-size yawn.
“Did you talk to Caitlyn?” Kellen asked, figuring that was what he’d been doing in the bathroom for over an hour.
“Yeah, she’s going to visit soon. Either here or in Austin, depending on what Sally decides to do in the morning. What about Dawn?”
Kellen shrugged. “She’s busy.” And he left it at that. He’d never been one to discuss his girl troubles—or perfection, in Dawn’s case—with anyone. Not even Owen.
“I should probably hit the sheets.”
“It has been a long day.”
“Do you think we’re over?” Owen asked. “The band, I mean. Not us. We’ll always be best friends.”
Kellen wasn’t sure why those words closed around his throat like a fist. For the past few days, he’d felt that Owen was drifting away. That feeling was probably due to their brief separation over the weekend, but something felt different between them, and Kellen couldn’t put his finger on what.
“I don’t know. Jacob was monumentally pissed. I think that anger has been building inside him for a long time. To us, his breaking off from the band might have felt like a sudden, rash decision, but I don’t think that’s the case with him. He’s probably been considering this for a while now.”
“I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach,” Owen said. “I told you earlier that something was wrong, but the feeling hasn’t gone away, even with Jacob taking off. I’m starting to think something truly terrible has happened to Adam.”
Adam being in real trouble would explain why no one had heard from him for hours, but Kellen slapped Owen on the arm and said, “He’s fine. He’s been to hell and back how many times? He can survive anything.”
“He’s always survived because Jacob comes to his rescue.”
That sick feeling Owen described settled in Kellen’s gut as he realized Owen was right.
“Adam has Madison now,” Kellen said, trying to make himself feel better as much as he was hoping to placate Owen’s fears.
Chapter Sixteen
The next evening Kellen sat in his Firebird in front of Owen’s house, staring at the familiar and welcoming blue cottage. He hesitated to go inside, even though he felt drawn to Owen in this time of uncertainty and Owen was expecting his visit. Sally had let Kellen know that Jacob would be on the local evening news—hopefully to explain why he’d said the band was over, why he’d taken off in the middle of the tour, and generally why he wasn’t making a lick of sense.
Jacob had to know that he wasn’t the only one affected by his rash decision. If the band didn’t get back together, there was no reserve plan ready to sweep in and rescue them all. Kellen had focused his life on perfecting the guitar—it was all he had going for him—and yet by remaining a rhythm guitarist instead of ever taking lead, he was essentially unknown. Adam was Sole Regret’s guitarist. Adam was the one the fans cheered for. Adam was the one they knew by name. Adam was the one who could leave right before a New Orleans concert to check on his injured girlfriend in Dallas-fucking-Texas and still have everyone scrambling to kiss his ass. Kellen wasn’t sure if the guy was an asshole or a hero.
Kellen climbed the front step and stood in the cool shade of the porch.
He might get a gig with another band—most likely an obscure band—but would Owen be a part of that? He wasn’t sure if he could play with another bassist. And the thought of not being able to play with Owen was far more frightening to him than splitting off from the rest of the band. He considered all the guys close friends, but Owen was an integral part of his life. He wouldn’t know how to get by without him.
Maybe the two of them could form their own band. But neither of them had Jacob’s drive , Gabe’s energy, or the dark, demonic muse that possessed Adam, so the two of them would never replicate the magic of Sole Regret, and Kellen wasn’t ready to give up on that magic yet. So it was best that he and Owen help Jacob remove his head from his ass, calm Gabe enough for him to think rationally, and get Adam to talk to them about what was going on in his twisted mind, because they obviously weren’t relating to each other the way they should.
And though all of these worries were weighing heavily on Kellen’s heart, he wasn’t still sitting in his car staring at Owen’s house for that reason. No, he was roasting alive in his Firebird’s stifling interior solely because he wasn’t sure how he would react to seeing Lindsey again. Since she was staying with Owen temporarily, he was bound to run into her. What if the mere sight of her reversed all the soul-healing progress he’d made with Dawn’s help last weekend? He guessed he’d just have to hole up somewhere with Dawn for another private weekend and set himself straight again. Not exactly a burden.
He stared at the house. He could do it. He could handle seeing the pretty pregnant ghost again. Besides, Sara—damn—Lindsey was a minor concern compared to getting the band together. He climbed out of his car and hurried up the front walk, playing different conversations through his head. He needed a different approach for each guy. Gabe was driven by his head, Adam by his gut, Jacob by his heart, and Owen . . . Kellen didn’t actually need an approach for Owen. They were always on the same wavelength.