Thoughtless Page 11

Page 11

  Quickly getting over the incident, I pushed the cart down the aisle while Kellan, softly singing along to the cheesy background songs (he knew every single one), tossed things in - and only things I approved first. I smiled as I watched his attractive, grinning face. We were halfway through the store and entering the cereal aisle, when suddenly the song he was singing along to, became a duet. He looked over at me expectantly on the girl part and I could feel the heat creep up my face - I was not a singer.

  He laughed, amused at my unwilling expression and sang his next part louder, walking backwards and gesturing like he was serenading me. It was highly embarrassing, and a few people who walked by us, smiled and laughed at him. He ignored them and continued singing to me, watching my face turn a bright red as my blush deepened. His eyes practically sparkled with enjoyment over my discomfort.

  He again waited for me to sing the girl part, with his hands splayed out in a "go ahead" gesture and an eyebrow cocked. I stubbornly shook my head and smacked him on the arm, hoping he would stop mortifying me. He laughed and grabbed my hand, spinning me around right there in the middle of the aisle. He whirled me away and then back to him and then he even dipped me, never once stopping his serenade. An older couple smiled at us as they scooted around him.

  Laughing as he stood me back up, I finally, and very softly, sang the girl part for him. He smiled charmingly at me and then chuckling, released me and we finished our shopping. . . and the song. After that, I just sang back whatever he wanted me to. Defying him was just too darn embarrassing.

  More to pass the time than anything, I grudgingly called my parents. I'd had no intention of telling them that Denny had left their baby girl all alone in a strange city, but somehow it slipped out, and I had to endure an hour-long 'I knew he was no good, get your butt back here' speech. For the millionth time, I told them that I was staying here, that I was happy here. At least, I would be when Denny came back. I repeatedly assured them that they didn't need to worry so much.

  Denny did call me two to three times a day, which was the highlight of my day, and I found myself hanging around the kitchen, waiting for the phone to ring so I could talk to him. Eventually, that really started to irritate me. I was my own person. I could get through the day without talking to him, if I happened to miss a call. Well, I could make it a few hours at least. I tried not to obsess so much after that. . . but of course, I still did, and I cherished every phone call that I did get.

  "Hey, babe. "

  I knew I was grinning like an idiot into the phone, but I couldn't help it. I missed his voice. "Hi. . . " I practically sighed the word. "How are you doing. . . ready to come home yet?" I cringed, knowing I sounded exactly like my parents.

  Denny chuckled into the phone, like he realized that too. "I'm great, tired. . . but great. We're not nearly done yet though. . . sorry. " His voice reflected true remorse and I couldn't help but smile.

  "It's alright. . . I guess. I miss you like crazy though. "

  He chuckled again. "I miss you too. " This was practically our daily routine. Are you coming home? No. I miss you. I miss you too. I smiled at how much I loved that goofy boy.

  "I was just about to grab something to eat and then crash. What are you up to on your night off?" He grunted softly like he had sat down, completely exhausted.

  I sighed. "Absolutely nothing, and Kellan's band is playing at Razors tonight, so I'm going to be completely alone here. . . " I said that last part quietly as I looked around the suddenly huge seeming house.

  "Why don't you go?" he said, yawning a little.

  I looked at the phone, confused. "Huh?"

  "With Kellan. . . why don't you go listen to the band? It will at least give you something to do. . . " He yawned again softly, and made a sound like he had flopped onto his bed or something.

  "You're really tired, aren't you?" I asked, feeling bad for keeping him awake, but not wanting to get off the phone yet.

  "Yeah. . . it's alright though. " I could hear his smile through the phone. "I'll stay up to talk to you. "

  I felt stubborn tears brewing. I missed him so achingly bad. "I don't want to wear you out even more. I can talk to you in the morning, before your work. We'll have breakfast together. " I tried to make my voice happy at that prospect when, really, I just wanted to sob at him to come home already.

  He yawned again. "Are you sure? I really don't mind. . . "

  No, I wanted to talk to him all night. "Yes. . . eat, get some sleep, and hurry home to me. "

  "I love you, Kiera," he said warmly.

  "I love you too. . . goodnight. "

  "Goodnight. " He yawned a final time as he hung up the phone.

  I stared at the receiver for a full minute while the stubborn tear dripped down my cheek. It had only been nine days and, here I was, already crying with loneliness. That didn't sit well with me. Maybe he was right and I should go out? It would, at the very least make the evening go by faster - breakfast would be here before I knew it. That thought perking me up, I brushed aside my tear and walked upstairs to Kellan's room.

  I knocked on his closed door and he immediately said, "Come on in. " I immediately blushed upon entering; he hadn't exactly been decent yet. He was standing by the bed, facing the door and buttoning his jeans. His fresh t-shirt was still lying on the bed and his absurdly defined body was still slightly damp from the shower he had just gotten out of.

  He looked up at me curiously. "What's up?"

  I realized I was standing in the doorway, gaping at him stupidly, and made myself close my mouth. "Um. . . I was wondering. . . if I could go with you. . . to Razors. . . listen to the band. . . " I was feeling more and more like an idiot with every word escaping my lips. I suddenly wished I had opened my door, for a night of sulking, instead of his door.

  Grinning broadly, he grabbed his shirt from the bed. "Really? You're not sick of listening to me yet?" He winked as he pulled the t-shirt over his fabulous body.

  I swallowed a little, openly watching him, and made myself shut my mouth again. "No. . . not yet. It will give me something to do, anyway. " I immediately regretted saying that, as it probably sounded horribly rude.

  He chuckled delightfully as he ran his fingers through his thick, damp hair and then, grabbing something from his dresser, tousled it up into a wonderfully shaggy mess. I watched him curiously. I'd never seen anyone style their hair that way before. He never even looked in a mirror; he just instinctively knew how to make it look perfectly styled in a completely un-styled way - fabulously sexy.

  I blinked when he spoke to me. "Sure, I'm almost ready to go. " He sat on the bed to put his work boots on, and patted the space beside him. I sat and watched him, feeling silly for even coming in here. "Was that Denny on the phone?"

  "Yeah. . . " I said sadly, and he paused and watched me for a moment.

  "Any idea when he'll come home?" he asked, grabbing for his other boot.

  "No," I sighed.

  He half-grinned at me charmingly. "I'm sure it won't be too much longer. " He stood up and grabbed the newer of his two guitars, shoving it in an open case on his bed. "It will fly by. . . really. " He smiled at me so encouragingly that I smiled too. "Ready?" he asked, shutting the case and pulling the strap over his shoulder.

  I nodded and we made our way downstairs. He grabbed his keys, and I grabbed my ID and some cash from tips, and we were off.

  The night at Razors was surprisingly fun. Razors was a much smaller bar than Pete's. It was a long, narrow rectangle of a building with a small area for the band at the front, a long bar against one wall and tables and chairs occupying the rest of the space. Kellan plopped me down at the closest table, for a front row seat to the almost intimate show.

  The band played astoundingly well, of course, but more subdued. It was almost like a private performance for me and twenty of my closest friends. Kellan sat on a stool while he sang and strummed his guitar, his flirty behavior near
ly cut in half with his adoring flock of females all but gone. Not that the girls here weren't shouting for him, and the rest of the guys, but these people were mainly bar patrons who happened to come in tonight, not the zealous stalkers that seemed to hang out at Pete's, where the band was based.

  I found myself absorbed in Kellan's performance, really listening to the lyrics and the timbre of his voice, and even softly singing along to a few songs, which made him smile gloriously when he noticed. Denny's suggestion was brilliant, and the night did fly by. Before I knew it, the guys were packing up their stuff and Kellan was saying goodbye to a few people that he knew there. . . and obliging a few forward women with kisses on their cheeks. Then we were back in his car and heading home.

  On the ride back, Kellan smiled, and softly sang the last song the band had played, thumping a rhythm with his thumbs on the steering wheel. It happened to be the song that had moved me so much, my very first night in Seattle. The song that had really made me notice Kellan, the inner Kellan. I leaned my head back on the seat and turned to watch him. He looked over at my rapt attention and smiled wider through his words.

  "I love that one. " I smiled back widely and he nodded, still singing it. "It seems important to you. Does it mean something?" I hadn't meant to ask that. Oh well, too late now.

  He stopped singing and looked at me curiously. "Huh," he said, pausing his fingers and returning his attention to the road.

  "What?" I asked timidly, hoping I hadn't somehow offended him.

  He only half-grinned at me though, not at all looking slighted. "No one's ever asked me that before. Well, no one outside the band that is. " He shrugged as he looked over my face. I blushed and looked away, wondering if he thought I was an idiot for asking. "Yes. . . " he said softly.

  I blinked and turned back to look at him, thinking maybe, once again, I had spoken my thoughts out loud and he had just agreed that I was an idiot. But smiling warmly at me, he only added, "It means a lot to me. . . "

  He gave me an odd look, and then turned his attention back to the road and said nothing further. I bit my lip, and made the conscious decision to not ask him anymore about it, even though I desperately wanted to. I could tell from the way he too carefully watched the road, and from the way he occasionally flicked me quick glances from the corner of his eye, that he didn't want to elaborate on it. It took great effort on my part, but I was respectful, and didn't ask him anything else.

  I relayed my evening to Denny over our phone-breakfast the next morning, and he seemed pleased that I had been able to have a fun night without him. I wasn't too pleased at that thought - I wanted to be having fun with him, but I suppose he was right. I did need to get out more and enjoy myself while he was gone. Dwelling was getting me nowhere.

  So I started hanging out with Jenny more. In fact, the very next Sunday afternoon, she came over to our dreary house and was as shocked as I had been that it was so barren. We spent the entire afternoon hitting every consignment shop or thrift store in town, looking for the cheapest, yet nicest, stuff we could find to spruce up the place.

  We managed to find a couple of nice art-deco pieces for the living room, a couple scenic prints for my room, some coffee themed pictures (and, of course, one tea themed picture) for the kitchen, and an interesting water drop photo for the bathroom. I even happened across on old Ramones poster that I thought Kellan would like, since his room was as barren as the rest of the house.

  I scooped up a whole bunch of empty photo frames and got some pictures developed that we'd taken with Denny's camera that first week we'd moved in. Some were of Denny and I, a couple were just of the boys, and a few, including my very favorite one that I planned on sharing with my family, had all three of us together. And of course, we found a whole bunch of girlier items: baskets, decorative plants, nice towels for the bathroom. I even managed to find a cheap answering machine, so I wouldn't have to stress quite so much about missing a phone call.

  I wasn't sure how thrilled Kellan was going to be about us girlifying his house, but he wasn't home when we got back from our trip, so we hurried, giggling the entire time, to get everything up before he got back. We were just finishing up in the kitchen when he finally did get home.