As soon as Kellen emerged from the car, Gabe began to stuff the good-time woman inside. “Parker, take her back to the hotel. Don’t let her talk you into any side adventures, be they threesomes or anything else.”
“Uh,” the limo driver muttered, his eyes wide and mouth agape.
“I’m sure Parker knows how to have more fun than you do,” the woman sputtered. “What kind of rock star doesn’t want to bang two gorgeous chicks at the same time?”
“The kind trying to make a serious connection with the friend you claim to care about,” he said, slamming the door before she could reply.
Dawn exchanged a confused look with Kellen, who shrugged. The limo window hummed as it rolled down.
“I do care about her.”
“Then give her a fucking break, Nikki.”
Nikki scowled at Gabe before she slumped back into the seat, crossing her arms over her chest and setting her beautiful face into an unbecoming pout.
“I just want to have a good time,” she said. “I’m sure you could easily talk Melanie into a threesome with us.”
“I will not now, nor will I ever, pressure Melanie into spreading her legs for you, Nikki.”
“You’re so mean,” she said, tears falling in torrents from her blue eyes.
Dawn might have felt sorry for the obviously distraught woman if Nikki’s reason for crying hadn’t been so absurd.
The limo eased forward.
“And stay out of trouble!” Gabe called after the retreating car. Nikki gave him the finger and rolled up the window.
“Do I want to ask?” Kellen asked Gabe.
“Melanie’s baggage is driving me insane.” Gabe offered Dawn a nod of greeting, which she returned, before he stalked off toward the arena’s door.
“Are threesomes common among rock stars?” Dawn asked, hiding a teasing smile behind a fake cough.
“Depends on the rock star.” Kellen wrapped an arm around her lower back and directed her toward the backstage entrance.
Owen practically pounced on Kellen the moment he entered the dressing room, launching into a spiel about being chased down by an angry bull and Jacob being more concerned about preserving the moment in pictures than saving his life.
“We can always find another bassist,” Kellen teased.
“Hey,” Owen said, slapping his friend on the arm. “Don’t forget you wouldn’t even be in this band if it wasn’t for me.”
“How could I forget something you remind me of at every opportunity?”
Dawn felt incredibly third-wheelish standing there next to them, but was glad to finally see evidence of the friendship between the two men. They both lit up with delight, clicking together so perfectly that she had a hard time following some of their conversation. Or they were that way until Lindsey headed their way. The instant Kellen saw her, he shifted his hand to cover his wristwatch and went all quiet and stiff. Owen actually flinched when he caught sight of the woman.
“There you are,” Lindsey said, covering her belly with one hand.
Dawn wasn’t sure if her action was a protective reflex or if she was intentionally drawing attention to her condition.
“I was getting so lonely here with no one but Jordan to keep me company.”
Dawn did a quick check of the room and spotted a young man watching Lindsey with an intensity that reminded her of a junior high boy with his first crush—Jordan, she presumed. Lindsey didn’t notice Jordan’s stare of longing; she was too busy looping her arm through Owen’s and sniffing the air with a deep inhale.
“That Cajun food you brought smells absolutely delicious. Is it time to eat? You’re always so thoughtful and thinking of others. I’ve never met anyone as considerate as you are.”
Owen actually smiled at her compliment and allowed her to direct him toward the rapidly forming buffet line.
Kellen didn’t follow. Instead he turned to Dawn. “Are you ready to eat?”
She lifted a brow at him. “Does Lindsey stick to Owen like industrial strength glue?”
He glanced after his stuck friend. “Uh, yeah?”
“There’s your answer.”
Dawn tried to keep Kellen talking, but they ended up a couple of people in line behind the pregnant ghost of Sara, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but misery.
“She’s not Sara,” Dawn said quietly when the line moved but he hadn’t.
“I know,” he said, scooping jambalaya onto his paper plate.
Maybe he did know Lindsey wasn’t Sara’s ghost, but Dawn could tell he was struggling.
Spicy and savory, the food was excellent, though it had gotten a little cold in transport. Yet not nearly as cold as Kellen had become as he sat beside her in sullen silence. Every time she tried to strike up conversation, he gave her a one-word answer if he even bothered answering. She had to help him free himself from his past love once and for all so that he didn’t sport that guilty, crippled-soul look on his face every time he was around someone or something that reminded him of Sara. Had he really been living like this for five years? How miserable for him. Dawn searched for his hand beneath the table and found it wrapped around his wrist again. She covered it and squeezed. If he couldn’t get past this on his own, then they’d get past it together. Avoiding Lindsey wasn’t the answer. He needed to move on so that the mere presence of the woman didn’t tie him in knots. Especially if she became a fixture in his best friend’s life.
After dinner Dawn had the privilege of hanging around in the green room with the band and a couple of their girlfriends. Sweet, seemingly shy Madison was focused on Adam with a worshipful stare that left no doubt that she was completely besotted with the lead guitarist. She could scarcely get out two words without flushing. Melanie, in contrast, had more than a few words for Gabe. The strikingly lovely and leggy brunette seemed upset about the argument that had resulted in threesome-desiring Nikki leaving the premises. Gabe was doing his best to distract Melanie by introducing her to everyone in the room. When the couple reached Dawn and Kellen, the first thing out of Kellen’s mouth was, “This is Dawn O’Reilly. Not only is she beautiful, smart, and talented, but she won a Grammy earlier this year.”
Dawn flushed and elbowed him in the ribs. Not that she didn’t like his compliments, but it was hard to be considered normal and approachable after an introduction like that.
“You’re a musician?” Melanie sputtered, giving her the twice-over. Maybe she assumed Dawn was a rock musician or a pop star. Admittedly, she looked neither part.
“The Grammy was for one of my compositions,” Dawn said, hoping her smile looked friendly. Dear lord, what was she supposed to say to Melanie now? Dawn couldn’t stand a braggart. Her father was the biggest braggart she’d ever encountered. Had her statement about her Grammy sounded like bragging? God, she hoped not.
“She does play the piano,” Kellen added. “Her fingers are magical.”
“Oh, I bet,” Gabe said with a smirk. “It isn’t every gorgeous redhead who can get this tough crack to nut.”
Dawn puzzled over Gabe’s idiom. “Isn’t the saying ‘tough nut to crack’?”