One Night with Sole Regret 05 Tie Me (21 page)

“A song? Is that how you met Dawn? I wondered how you hooked up with her.”

“She’s renting the house next to mine while she works; she says the sea inspires her compositions. I knocked on her door so I could hear the song she was working on.”

“And then you got busy with her.” Owen slugged him in the thigh. “You stud.”

“It was more than that. We talked and she shared her music with me and then…” Kellen winked at Owen. “
Then
I got busy with her.”

“When are you going to see her again?” Owen asked.

“Never.” It made his heart hurt to say it, but it had to be that way. There wasn’t a woman alive who deserved to make do with what was left of his heart. And someone like Dawn deserved a man who could give her the moon and stars. Devote every piece of himself to her happiness. He just didn’t have that much to give her. He’d already given it all to Sara.

“You’re an idiot,” Owen said.

“And
you’re
the relationship master?”

“I don’t deny that I suck at relationships,” Owen said, “but at least I’m trying.”

The limo pulled to a stop outside of the hotel. Kellen tossed his half-eaten sandwich into the seat and climbed out. He
had
tried. He’d opened himself up to Dawn faster than he’d let his guard down with anyone. Even Sara. Even Owen. But it just wouldn’t work. And if he fell in love with another woman and she left him—on purpose or through no fault of her own—then Kellen didn’t think he’d survive. How much of a heart did a man require to maintain a pulse? He was sure it was more than he had left to spare.

Chapter Twelve

Kellen pretended to watch
I Love Lucy
reruns while he hid in a hotel room with most of his band. Adam was sketching realistic-looking boobs as he used the hotel phone to schedule some debauchery with his woman in New Orleans. Gabe was tinkering with the mechanisms of some crazy invention that had Kellen cocking his head in confusion—what in the hell
was
that thing? Owen fiddled with his cellphone the entire evening to prove once and for all that he was a desperate loser. Jacob had never made it to the hotel. Kellen could only guess what he and Lindsey were up to back on the bus. Probably picking out baby names.

By the time they were sitting in the limo and headed back to the stadium, Kellen was ready to climb out of his skin. Why had he told Owen to dispose of Sara’s cuff? He had been fine without it when Dawn had been available to distract him, but now that he was alone with his thoughts, he found himself back in his ugly place. His very dark and oppressing ugly place. Should he call Dawn? He didn’t have her number. Should he drive back to Galveston after their show in New Orleans? No, he was sure she never wanted to see him again. And in his note to her, he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested.

Except he
was
interested.

And he hated himself for the weakness.

“I’m going to punch you if you don’t get out of your funk,” Owen said. “I thought all your doom and gloom was caused by your lack of sex, but you got laid last night, so what gives?”

“You got laid last night?” Adam’s dark eyebrows shot up toward his hairline.

“Yeah, by an elegant, classy, redheaded babe,” Owen said.

“Were you there?” Adam asked.

Owen shook his head. “I Googled her.”

Kellen sighed in exasperation. “I’ve told you a million times that my
funk
, as you call it, has little to do with sex.”

“Then you must be doing it wrong,” Gabe said and ran a hand along the row of red-tipped hair spiked down the middle of his head.

“Probably,” Kellen said.

“If you need some inspiration, I could hook you up with some gadgets I… uh…
bought
,” Gabe said.

“He doesn’t need any gadgets.” Owen said. “He’s not seeing her again.”

If Kellen hadn’t been used to Owen spewing everyone’s business all the time, he probably would have hit him. He was in that bad a mood.

“Nothing wrong with getting your rocks off and splitting as soon as you can get away,” Adam said. “Before Madison, that was the only way I rolled.”

Kellen didn’t bother telling them that it wasn’t like that. He hadn’t actually wanted to leave Dawn. He’d felt that he’d had to, but his friends would probably take his denial as admittance. He’d rather not talk about last night or this morning and just forget about the whole thing. As if that were possible.

But he could
pretend
things were the same as they’d been for the past five years. They’d just think he was being moody.

At the stadium, several security guards escorted them inside. The backstage area was packed. The band was supposed to be entertaining a large group of VIPs. Luckily, most of them wanted to hang around with their lead singer, Jacob, who had no problem keeping two dozen women enthralled. The dudes in the crowd immediately surrounded either Adam—their guitar hero—or Gabe—the man behind the skins. Kellen was grateful that he went relatively unnoticed as he snuck past the crowd on his way to the dressing room. He had his eyes trained on the sign that said “Band members only. No guests.”

“Kellen!” someone yelled from the crowd behind him.

He froze. He knew that voice.

“Wait!”

Some kind of bizarre reverse psychology had him jogging toward the dressing room. Just before he stepped over the threshold into the safe zone, a hand caught his arm.

He took a deep breath and turned slowly to face her. Best get this over with.

He searched Dawn’s face for clues. What was she doing here? He backed into the dressing room. And guest or not, she followed him inside and closed the door behind her.

Dawn pressed a crumpled wad of paper into Kellen’s chest. Her eyes were alight with passion and fire.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“A Dear
Dawn
letter?” she spat at him. “We share the most amazing night of my life, and you leave me with nothing but a Dear Dawn letter?”

He was at a loss. Didn’t she understand that leaving that way had been the kindest thing he could have done for her?

“Take it back,” she demanded, shoving the paper harder into his chest. “Take it back, Kellen!”

He took the wad of paper from her hand, basking in the heat of her fury, blooming in her light. She was his fire. His Dawn.

“Did last night mean nothing to you?”

“It meant everything to me,” he said. And now that she was here, in all her radiant glory, he couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t deny her. He couldn’t deny himself.

“Then why did you leave? Why, Kellen?” Her voice cracked, and she might as well have taken a hammer and chisel to his heart.

“Because,” he said breathlessly. “Because I’ll never have enough to give. I’ll never be enough. You deserve more than me, Dawn.
Better
than me. You deserve someone who can love you with everything he is, was, or will become. And I… I already gave that to someone else.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Kellen Jamison,” she said, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

He fought the urge to drag her into his arms and kiss her silent.

“Who I deserve is up to me, not you. I say you’re enough for me—you’re more than enough—so you are. If you don’t feel anything for me, that’s different; I’ll let you go if you want to go. But if you do feel something and the only reason you left is for
my
sake, I won’t stand for it. Do you understand? Walking away from me does not save me heartache, Kellen. It causes it.”

He looked away, wanting to believe they could be together or at least give it a Herculean effort, but he knew in his heart that he couldn’t make her happy. And more than anything, he wanted her to be happy. He never wanted to dampen her light or extinguish her fire. He couldn’t stomach the thought of doing that to her.

Her fingertips pressed over his pounding heart, and he wanted to push her hand away, wanted to turn his back on her, wanted to flee, but his fucking legs had forgotten how to move.

“Look me in the eye, Kellen, and tell me you don’t want to be with me, and I’ll leave.”

He forced himself to meet her phenomenal hazel eyes and opened his mouth to tell her to get lost for her own damned good, but his tongue was in total disagreement with his common sense.

“Nothing would make me happier than to be with you, Dawn O’Reilly.”

Her eyes lit up with hope. “Nothing?”

It was a loaded question, and he took a moment to contemplate it. Was there anything or anyone—living or dead—that made him happier than he was in this woman’s arms? The answer was surprisingly easy. He didn’t have to compare his time with Dawn to anything in his past, he just had to let himself enjoy her in the here and now. That was what was important. There was nothing wrong with loving Sara forever as long as he made a little room for someone new in his heart. With time, that little room might accommodate more, until he could let Dawn be his everything. But for now, at least they had someplace to start. Kellen’s emotional doom clouds scattered before Dawn’s radiance, his defenses crumbled, and he smiled at her. Really smiled. So wide it made his face hurt.

“Nothing,” he said in all sincerity.

“Good,” she said, “because I’m not above tying you to my bed until you come to your senses, Kellen Jamison.”

Lord, how he admired the fire in her.

He laughed, and it didn’t feel forced. It felt good.

“I could teach you a thing or two about tying a person to your bed,” he teased.

“I don’t want a person tied to my bed,” she said, stepping close, so that only inches separated their bodies. “Just you. And I’d rather not have to resort to restraining you. I prefer you free.”

He preferred that as well. Even if it proved a very slow process to free him of the bonds that held him back, he was ready to be untied.

Kellen wrapped his arms around Dawn and drew her against him, claiming her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. A part of him still struggled with finding intimacy with a woman who wasn’t Sara. Another part of him was shouting that kissing Dawn O’Reilly,
adoring
her, was wrong. But the best part of him told those other two parts to fuck off.

When they separated, he cupped her lovely face in both hands and just stared. He was so glad she’d had the courage to fight for this because he’d needed that little push to help see what was right in front of him.

“Say, Rockstar,” she asked, “what are you doing after the show?”

“Hopefully just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I could go for that. And what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Going to New Orleans.”

“Are you planning to run away from me again?”

“No. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me.”

She smiled and kissed his lips gently. “Yeah, I could go for that too, Kellen.”

“You can call me Kelly.”

She tilted her head and stared straight into his soul, which always seemed to warm under her attention. “Yeah, you do look like a Kelly.”

Good, because he felt like one.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I’d like to thank Wendy Christy for being the most faithful of beta readers, and the amazing Beth Hill for her fabulous editing skills. Thanks ladies for helping me make this a better story. And I’d like to thank my devoted fans, who make all the long hours toiling at the keyboard worth it.

WHAT’S NEXT

Next up is Gabe in
Tell Me
. He hasn’t been able to get Melanie out of his head since their first encounter, but he’s not sure if she’s ready to see what he has hidden in his bedroom. Will she be able to handle everything he has planned for her? And what is up with her best friend, Nikki? Is she off her meds or something?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Combining her love for romantic fiction and rock 'n roll, Olivia Cunning writes erotic romance centered around rock musicians. Raised on hard rock music from the cradle, she attended her first Styx concert at age six and fell instantly in love with live music. She's been known to travel over a thousand miles just to see a favorite band in concert. As a teen, she discovered her second love, romantic fiction -- first, voraciously reading steamy romance novels and then penning her own. She recently sold her snow shovel and moved from Nebraska to Galveston, Texas. She loves to spend time on the beach with her feet in the surf writing about naughty rock stars.