“Oh, I know the saying,” Gabe said, his smirk widening. “I said exactly what I meant.”
It took Kellen slugging Gabe in the arm for her to realize that Gabe was making a joke, and a few times of running Gabe’s muddled saying through her head to figure out he was razzing them about sex. Her inability to blend in might not be Kellen’s fault after all, but rather her own. Dawn wasn’t sure if she should be more embarrassed by Kellen bringing up her Grammy or her apparent lack of a sense of humor.
“When she plays that piano,” Kellen said, “it makes my soul shudder as if in orgasm. Is a soulgasm a thing? Because she gives them to me.”
Unable to believe he’d said that in polite company—if Gabe and Melanie could be considered polite company—Dawn blinked and then said, “Will you quit?”
“And you should hear the song she composed the other night,” Kellen said, his low voice dancing along her spine. If he kept talking like that, she’d insist they spend the time before the show alone together so she could make good on the promise in his tone.
The suggestiveness of his comment did not go unnoticed by Gabe, who bit his bottom lip and lifted his brows. Dawn licked her lips and turned to Kellen, figuring the best way to stop the teasing was to play along. She pinned Kellen with her most sultry gaze, hoping she looked more like Marilyn Monroe and less like Debbie doing-all-of-Dallas, and said, “Maybe I’ll write another tonight.”
His hand resting on her lower back tightened into a fist, tugging her top against her skin and instantly enslaving her to his mercy. He didn’t need ropes to do that. He just had to look at her as if he intended to devour her whole.
Someone cleared his throat. “Would you two like to be alone?” Gabe asked, breaking the spell Kellen had cast over her.
Kellen turned to Gabe and drew back, as if startled. “Gabe! When did you get here?”
“I was here before you arrived.”
“Didn’t notice.”
Gabe nodded in Dawn’s direction and grinned. “With Dawn beside you, I doubt you’d notice if the room was on fire.”
But judging by his cringe, he had noticed that Lindsey had just come out of the bathroom and was searching the room for signs of poor Owen again. Dawn wondered what Owen’s new woman was like. Was Caitlyn truly as fabulous as Owen claimed, or was he just acting infatuated to throw Lindsey off his scent? A new girlfriend would have to be infinitely patient to deal with his current situation.
Someone called Kellen to the stage, and Dawn tagged along, interested in anything related to music, even all the massive technologically enhanced equipment that went with putting on a huge rock concert. Kellen was amused by her questions and had returned to his normal easy-going self within moments of leaving his band behind in the dressing room.
“So are you always tense around the guys in your band?” she asked as they made their way back to the dressing room, where he’d likely become that closeted stranger again. “It must make touring difficult.”
“What do you mean? I’m not tense around the guys.”
“You sure seem tense to me. Every time we’re with them, you get all quiet and closed off.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d been fine talking to Owen and Gabe when they’d interacted one-on-one. Maybe he just couldn’t deal with more than one person at a time.
“You’re imagining things,” he said.
He opened the dressing room door and peeked inside. He released a relieved breath and entered the room, heading directly for the unoccupied sofa. In fact, the entire room was currently unoccupied. And Kellen was once again perfectly at ease.
“See,” Dawn said, following him. “They’re not here and you’re all relaxed and calm.”
“She’s not here,” he corrected.
“Who?” But the moment she asked, she knew who he was referring to. “Lindsey.”
He nodded and slumped onto the sofa. She sat beside him.
“I wish she didn’t make me feel this way,” he said, “but I can’t help it. Every time I see her, I feel so fucking guilty for being with you. And you’re the one I want to be with. The only one.”
She wanted to be with him too, even if their relationship took a bit of effort.
“It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to get you through this. If making this work requires throwing her off a bridge, I’ll throw her off a damned bridge.”
He laughed, but shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I just have to put up with her for a couple more hours and then hopefully I never have to see her again.”
“Even if she marries your best friend?”
Kellen covered his belly with one hand and pressed his lips together. Dawn was pretty sure he was going to throw up.
“Over my dead body,” he muttered.
“You realize that as Owen’s best man, you’ll be the one to raise a toast in their honor at their wedding reception.”
“Stop,” he said, grabbing her and tickling her until she was bucking around on the sofa. “That’s not even remotely funny.”
The dressing room door opened, and they separated like a pair of teenagers who’d been caught making out on her parents’ sofa.
Owen poked his head in, and Kellen loosed a relieved sigh.
“There you are,” Owen said, entering the room.
When Lindsey waddled in after him, Kellen groaned aloud. Dawn was becoming very fond of her throwing-Lindsey-off-a-bridge idea.
“It’s like you’re intentionally avoiding me or something.”
“I’m not,” Kellen said.
Owen narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth to one side, but Kellen wasn’t avoiding Owen, just the young blonde attached to his hip. He wouldn’t even look at her, and Dawn understood why. Maybe she should hand Owen a clue. He was obviously sporting hurt feelings over Kellen’s reaction to him.
“Every time you get a girlfriend, it’s as if I don’t exist,” Owen said, tossing an undeserved glare of malice in Dawn’s direction.
He stalked off, Lindsey in his wake, and headed for the bar in the back of the room. Kellen squeezed his eyes shut.
“You should explain that it’s not him you’re avoiding,” Dawn whispered to him.
“I will,” Kellen said, “after she’s gone.”
Someone sat beside her on the sofa, and Dawn was surprised to find Adam looking at her expectantly. He seemed to think she could read his mind.
“How did you get past your writer’s block?” Adam asked when she just stared at him.
Other than Gabe, with his bright red Mohawk and dragon tattoos, Adam looked more like a rock star than the rest of the band. His shoulder-length ebony hair—a shade too dark to be natural—was purposely sticking up in all directions, and he wore chains and leather as if he’d emerged from the womb ready to ride a Harley.
Dawn’s face went hot as memories of how Kellen had gotten her over her writing hump—erm, slump—by engaging her in a rather vigorous, uh, hump. “Um, well, I uh . . .”
Adam lifted an eyebrow at Kellen, who was smiling rather self-indulgently.
“She was inspired,” Kellen said.