Beautiful Distraction (20 page)

A few minutes later, after I’ve come down from my orgasm,
the world seems a little less surreal. Beautiful with the lake around us, but
still less surreal. We’re not the only people in the world, but for a few
moments, it sure felt like it.

“I’ll need to take care of some business. Will you be okay
on your own?” Kellan says and disentangles himself from our embrace. I don’t
look at him getting dressed while I squeeze into my own clothes.

“Sure,” I say, infusing as much casualness into my voice as
I can muster. “When will you be back?”

“Probably after the weekend.”

My heart drops.

Today is Friday. He’ll return on Monday, and I’m leaving
tomorrow. Our little fuck didn’t mean anything. He made that clear right from
the beginning. What I didn’t expect was for him to want to leave so abruptly.

A little warning would have been nice.

“So… I won’t see you again, will I?” I ask breathlessly.

He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to.

What is there to say?

A wave of disappointment—fast and
all-consuming—sweeps through me, and a strange pang of pain settles in my
chest.

That’s it.

The end of my vacation.

The end of us.

We’re not going to spend the last night together. Nor the
day after.

I’ll leave and I’ll go back to my boring, old life, and
he’ll remain the mystery he is. We’ll both move on. I didn’t expect it to be
over so soon, and yet it is.

“Feel free to stay as long as you want. When you’re ready to
leave, just leave the keys under the flowerpot on the porch,” Kellan continues,
oblivious to my thoughts. It seems so easy for him, as if he’s talking about a
short trip, not the fact that he won’t ever see me again. “The mechanic
finished all repairs on your car early this morning. You have new headlights,
the engine’s running, and he’s even done a paint job. You’ll get back home
safely.”

He’s paying me off.

I can’t believe it.

What he’s done is so much worse than throwing a pity check
at me.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“You didn’t have to,” I say, my voice strangely choked.

He shrugs. “I wanted to. It’s the least I can do after
bumping your car.”

God.

That feels like an eternity ago.

“Mandy should be back tomorrow, right?” Kellan asks,
breaking the awkward silence.

“Yeah. I’ll be busy packing up tonight.” I let out a forced
laugh, the effort making my chest hurt. Everything makes me hurt. My entire
body feels like a truck slammed into it. “She has so much stuff, and because
her suitcase was too small, she crammed it all in mine.”

His hands trail around my waist, and there’s another short,
awkward silence. “I enjoyed my time with you very much.”

His words sound so final, detached and resolute. He might as
well have said, “I enjoyed fucking you,” and it would have made no difference.

“So did I,” I whisper and look up to meet his questioning
gaze. I know I shouldn’t ask, and yet I have to know. “Will you visit me in New
York?”

He regards me, hesitating. “I don’t think I’ll leave Montana
for a while, but when I do, I’ll make sure you’re the first on my list.”

His list.

Yeah, the stupid list of women he’s fucked and wouldn’t mind
a second helping of.

My eyes feel moist. I break off his embrace and avert my
gaze so that he won’t see the turmoil that I’m sure is written across my face.

I’ve always hated saying goodbye. It feels too final, too
heavy. But I knew this day would come after all. Kellan never made a secret out
of it. I just didn’t expect it so soon. I just never expected that I’d enjoy my
time with him so much.

Kellan’s lips brush my neck, and as he kisses me, he
whispers against my skin, “I’ll see you soon.”

I want to believe him, but I can’t because I’m not stupid.
All men say the same thing to make leaving easier. Maybe they believe it’ll
soften the blow that it’s over.

Or maybe they’re just liars and would rather feed a woman’s
hope than deal with the drama that often accompanies honesty.

Well, there won’t be any drama.

“Yeah.” My body goes rigid as I force a cold smile to my
lips. “We’ll stay in touch.”

I close my eyes. He kisses my cheek before he turns and
leaves. I don’t follow him back to the house. Instead, I lie down and close my
eyes, barely able to hold back the tears I cannot allow myself to shed.

When I head back inside, the house is depressingly empty and
quiet.

Kellan’s gone.

Gone from my life, with no intention of coming back.

Leaving behind memories that I know will hurt for a long
time.

***

“Ava!”

Mandy’s screech reaches me through the fog inside my brain.
I look up from washing the dishes and flinch at the pain shooting up my back.
I’m so not used to working on the farm. My arms ache and my legs feel like
they’re about to fall off.

Kellan left last night.

I was so immersed in my work and dark thoughts that I
completely forgot the time.

“In here!” I yell.

The door bursts open and Mandy’s head pops in, a huge smile
on her lips.

“Howdy!” Dressed in a blue shirt and brown cowboy boots, she
looks like she’s just stepped out of a western movie. Her hair’s curled into
waves, which can only mean one thing: she’s found a hair stylist and shops.

“What are you doing here?” I wipe my wet hands on a towel
before Mandy engulfs me in a tight hug.

“That’s exactly the question I thought I’d hear.” Mandy
laughs and lets go of me. “I can tell you guys had a great time and didn’t miss
me one bit.”

“No, I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect you back so early.
What happened?”

“Plans change,” she says and her cheeks flush.

There’s definitely reason to press her for details, but I
don’t get a chance because her gaze falls on the dishes in the sink. “What are
you doing?”

“House chores.”

“You hardly ever do chores.” She makes it sound like I’ve
just committed a major crime. “You must really love the guy.”

I take a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t—”

“Hmm.” As though she doesn’t believe me, she cuts me off and
waves her hand. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

I look down at myself. Last time I checked, I
wasn’t
naked. Maybe my brain switched
off and I forgot to put on some pants?

“I mean something nice and sexy,” Mandy says, as though
reading my thoughts. “And hurry up. We need to leave.”

“Why?” I eye her, amused. “What’s going on? Is someone
chasing you?”

“No.” She rolls her eyes, grinning. “I have good news and
good news. Which one do you want to hear first?”

I close my eyes and groan inwardly. “Please don’t tell me
it’s about the concert.”

“It is.” Mandy lets out an excited squeal. “Mile High are
performing tonight.” She jumps up and down like a child. “God. I’m so excited.”

“That part’s obvious. What’s the other good news?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She pauses for effect. “Get
this. We got first-class tickets. The best of the best view.”

“Swell.” I fight the urge to bail. “How do you know?”

“As soon as Josh drove me to Helena, I called the concert
venue. Josh introduced me to someone who met someone who knows someone who’s
friends with someone—”

“Get to the point,” I cut her off.

“And that someone knows where they’re staying.” She wiggles
her eyebrows at me.

I frown because I really can’t follow. “Who?”

“Mile High.”

Oh, God.

“Please don’t tell me you’re planning on stalking them,” I
say. “For God’s sake, you’re a lawyer.”

“No,” she says in that defensive tone of hers that tells me
she’s guilty as charged. “I’m talking about knocking on their door and asking
for an autograph after the concert. What’s the harm?”

I stare at her. “What’s the harm? Mandy, you sound like a
frigging groupie.”

She shrugs. “So what? They’re awesome. Getting their phone
number is a major accomplishment, which I intend to fulfill.”

“Oh, God.” I shake my head. At least she’s not hell-bent on
hooking up with them. But I might be wrong on that one.

“Apparently, they’ve been here all along.” She leans closer
and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “They’re keeping a low profile, you
know, small venue and all.”

“Ah.” Now that makes sense. At some point, even the greatest
egomaniac will get sick and tired of having cameras shoved in their face and
screaming groupies running down their hotel room door. And the band hasn’t met
Mandy yet. She’s as obsessive as a fan can be. I wouldn’t be surprised at all
if the evening ended with a restraining order.

“I still have no idea why you want to see them,” I say with
the enthusiasm of a grumpy turtle. “They’re not even singing live. Everyone
knows that.”

“Because it’s my opportunity to get to meet them,” Mandy
says. “Hello? Did you hear a word I said? Good tickets. Small venue. I know
where they’re staying. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you’re
coming with me. I want to find out everything about them.”

I glare at her.

Apparently, everything about those guys is a huge secret,
starting with their identities and the heavy eye makeup that makes them look
like a badass copycat version of Green Day.

“But first, you really need to change.” Mandy takes a deep
breath and lets it out slowly, her annoyance with me obvious. “They’ll never
invite us backstage if I’m being accompanied by—”

“The not-so-hot friend?” I raise my brows, amused.

“No. I’d never say that.” She looks appalled. “I was going
to say ‘frumpy’.”

“Frumpy? As in dowdy, dull, homely?” I laugh out loud and
almost choke on my laughter at the mortified expression on her face.

“I didn’t mean—”

Oh, I’m going to hold this one against her for the rest of
her life. She’s always excelled at putting her foot in her mouth. “I know. Just
stop.”

“Are you going to make an effort?” She squeezes my hand
imploringly. “Please. Just once in your life show a little bit of enthusiasm
for Mile High, even if it’s fake. Please.”

“Gee, I didn’t realize this means so much to you.” I heave
an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“And you’ll pretend you’re a fan?”

”Now you’re pushing it.”

“Thanks.” She ignores my annoyed look as she heads for the
door, then stops as soon as she’s reached it. “By the way, where’s our hot
host?”

“Who?”

“Um. The guy you fucked all week.”

How does she even know that?

“If you’re talking about Kellan, he left,” I remark dryly.
“He said something about business.”

“Oh.” She purses her lips and eyes me for a moment. “You’ll
have to tell me everything…after the gig, of course.”

“Of course,” I mumble.

When I make my way downstairs, I find Mandy in the kitchen,
head lowered over a cup of coffee and the magazine in her hands. From the
doorway, I have a few seconds to take in her outfit her before she notices me.
She’s wearing a short leather skirt, high-heel boots that almost reach her
knees, and a top that leaves very little to the imagination. I’m dressed in
jeans, an off-shoulder top that isn’t too snug, and flat boots. I don’t know how
long gigs usually last, but I’m pretty sure I won’t get blisters, which is my
top priority.

“Ready?” I ask with more enthusiasm than I actually feel.

Mandy turns and her gaze swipes over me. Her thoughts are
visible in the frown across her forehead, and she opens her mouth before I can
stop her. “That’s your version of sexy?”

“It’s my version of being interested enough to listen. God.
You just can’t help yourself.”

Her shoulders are tense with something.

“What’s wrong?”

She hesitates, her back still turned on me. “I just—”

She sniffles.

“Mandy? Oh, my God.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and
pull her in a hug. “Are you crying?”

She shakes her head even though two tears are trickling down
her cheek.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Now I’m worried sick. Something’s wrong with her, I just
know it.

“It’s happening,” Mandy whispers.

“What’s happening?” I frown.

Is a hurricane hitting Montana after all and we’re going to
die?

“Mile High,” she speaks between sniffles. “I’ve been trying
to get tickets for ages, but they were always sold out. Tonight we’re finally
going to see them. I cannot believe it’s
that
day.”

Oh. My. God.

I stare at her, dumbfounded. She must have gone ape-shit
crazy because no grown-up woman in her right mind would cry at the prospect of
seeing some dudes wail into a microphone, no matter how talented they are. I
mean, seriously, that’s so Europe in the Dark Ages, when people had no
television and the Internet to entertain them.

“God, you scared me. I thought you were sick or something.”
I slap her shoulder playfully. “You’re a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. You’re clever
and educated. Get a grip, or you’re going alone.”

“Thank you.” She smiles and nods.

I stare at her, expecting more drama. When none comes, I
heave a sigh.

“Don’t mention it. You know I’ll always be here to talk some
sense into you. That’s what friends are for,” I say and let go of her.

“No. Thank you for winning the tickets,” Mandy says. “Now,
if you could get changed…”

I shake my head in disbelief, hold up a hand, annoyed, and
leave the kitchen, not in the least interested if she’s following.

“What did I say?” Mandy calls after me.

“Where do I even start?” I yell back. “The answer is no. I
won’t be bullied into wearing a slutty outfit just because you want to meet the
band.”

I sling my handbag over my shoulder and grab my jacket. I
most certainly won’t be freezing my ass off out there, not even for the likes
of Mile High.

The clicking sound of heels echoes down the hall a moment
before Mandy reaches me.

I peer down at her shoes doubtfully. The heels are so high,
at some point, I know, her feet will hurt so much she’ll either want to swap or
I’ll have to carry her. Usually, I end up giving her my shoes. But today I’ll
let her pay the price of beauty just because she’s inflicting this kind of
torture upon me.

“Where’s this gig?” I ask.

“Josh knows. He’s driving us.”

As if on cue, a car honks outside.

“Josh? Your most recent conquest?” I can’t help but ask.

“Yes. So?” Mandy shoots me a frown.

“What about my car?”

“We’ll get it after the gig.”

“I can’t believe you asked him to trudge along.” I brush my
hair out of my eyes, barely able to contain my laughter. “He’ll be so into you
when you start squealing in his ear.”

“I don’t squeal.”

“You so do when Mile High’s on.”

“So what?” She glares at me. “He told me he’s a fan
himself.”

God, no!

Not another fan.

I’d rather be stuck with a zombie and the danger of being
eaten alive than with a complete snooze fest of a rendition of Mile High’s
lyrics.

I open the door and head out to the waiting pickup truck,
settling in the back seat. Mandy takes the front seat a few moments later,
ignoring me as she leans into Josh to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

It’s so obvious they have a fling, I turn away to give them
privacy.

“Are you ladies excited?” Josh asks.

“Hell, yeah.” Mandy giggles.

“Hell, no,” I mumble.

Josh laughs and meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. His
dark blue eyes shimmer with unspoken understanding. Or maybe that’s what I want
to see in them because they’re warm and friendly and the complete opposite of
Kellan’s, with his brooding looks and evasiveness. Josh’s hand travels to touch
Mandy’s arm as he’s saying something to her. I turn away again, feeling just a little
bit sorry for myself at the idea she’s found someone so nice and easygoing
while I seem to have caught the attention of Mr.
Complicated-I-don’t-do-relationships-aloof.

“Josh, do we have any plans after the gig?” Mandy asks.

“I have a surprise in store for you.” He winks at her.

“Now we’re talking,” Mandy says.

Let me guess!

It involves his bedroom and handcuffs, which I’m sure he has
stacked somewhere in there. All guys do.

“Thanks for driving us,” Mandy says.

He smiles at her for a second before his gaze focuses back
on the dark street. “Anything for you.”

I lean back against the seat and try to blend in with the
upholstery to give them privacy.

But in secret, I wish I was back home—my real home in
NYC—with a bowl of popcorn or double fudge ice cream, watching a good
movie while downing an entire bottle of wine.

Get drunk.

Anything to help me forget the taste of his lips on mine.
Forget the heady scent of his aftershave and the sound of his laughter. Stop
the echo of his name inside my mind and all the silly wishes and hopes that
he’s thinking of me the way I’m thinking of him.

I’m losing myself. That’s not something I envisioned
happening because I know that soon enough, maybe even today, maybe tomorrow,
he’ll be chasing the next girl. Someone who won’t be me.

I’ll become a blurred memory.