Page 112 of Beautiful Distraction

“He’s inside, waiting for you,” Josh says. When I make nomove to exit, he leans against the car, his dark expression betraying hisdetermination. “Look, I promised him to bring you here. Can you just do me afavor and see him?”

I let out a sigh, then get out of the car. “Fine, but youowe me.”

Just like before, Josh mentioning his name grants us instantentry. The bar is full with what I assume are mostly locals. I spy Kellansitting with three other guys at a table near the back, his face turned tooverlook the entrance. The mask and makeup are gone. The man I see is bothfamiliar and a stranger to me.

My heart does a summersault. I realize it’s been doing thatever since I met him.

But that can’t be. Summersaults remind me of stories ofpeople falling in love and happy endings. Before he left, I knew I was about tofall for him. Surely, it hasn’t happened already.

My legs are frozen to the spot as I realize I loved my ex,and it hurt like hell when he cheated on me. But it was different.

Summersaults are new to me. I never had them before Kellan.

I can’t be in love with him.

Right?

I turn on my heels, ready to bolt out the door, when Joshsteps behind me, blocking my way.

“They’re over there,” he says. His hand goes around my upperarm to guide me, but I know he just wants to make sure I’m not trying to getaway.

Which is the plan.

I wish I could run away from the man I thought was only anightclub owner. And then only a cowboy.

I have all of three seconds before Kellan’s sweeping gazemeets mine, and he stands a moment before we reach him.

“You came.” Hesounds surprised. I look into his impossibly green eyes. He leans into me, andhis lips brush my cheek. He smells faintly of aftershave and warmth. A stunningsmile tugs at his lips, but there’s a strange glint in his eyes. As though he’snervous. As though he cares what I might think about him now that I know who heis.

I want to lean into him and tell him that I wish he weren’twho he is because it matters to me.

I also want to tell him that I had no choice but to comehere, whether I wanted to see him or not. It was either this or jump out of amoving car while praying I wouldn’t break a few bones in the process.

I want to ask him the one question that’s been pestering me.Why didn’t you tell me?

But my mouth remains shut, all those unspoken words trappedinside my chest.

“You want anything to drink?” Kellan pulls up a chair and pointsat the countless bottles on the table.

I shake my head in response.

While I’m all for a little liquid courage in situations likethese, I need to keep my head clear.

He sighs and sits down, his leg brushing mine. “These are myband mates, Casper, Derrick, and Rock. Guys, this is Ava.”

I nod at the three pairs of eyes staring at me. They looklike nice guys, maybe a bit worse for wear, but I guess that’s what the rockstar lifestyle does to you.

“Ava, huh?” Rock says. I can almost see the wheels of his mindworking. His blue eyes seem slightly glossed over; his movements are a littlebit slow. “ThatAva?”

And then it dawns on me.

He’s high on something.

Of course he is.

Most musicians are. My parents thought I’d follow in theirfootsteps and always warned me of the dangers of getting involved with someonein the music industry.

“Kellan made us play this gig just for you,” Derrick says.“I hope you know how to thank him tonight.”

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