Page 117 of Beautiful Distraction

“I love it too. But I love it even more now that you’rehere,” Kellan says.

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CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

“So, what do you think?” Kellan asks.

Heisnervous. Histone is less forceful than usual. Less sure of himself. “Here I am, famous andrich, and I’m going to throw it all away. Not the money, of course, buteverything else. Does that sound sane to you?”

Sane?

What is sane?

Besides, who amI to judge what is sane for him, and what isn’t?

“It think it sounds human.” I smile at him. “You must bereally sick of your job.”

He lets out a laugh. “You have no idea.”

“It’s okay.” I shrug. “What you’re doing is definitelybetter than planning to kill your boss. Take me, for example. I sure would killmine, if I thought I’d get away with it.”

Which is just a joke, obviously.

But TBisunbearable.The mere thought of her breathing down my neck has me covered in a cold sweat.

“I knew you’d get me.” His voice is serious again. His footis tapping against the wood. His whole posture is tense.

“Yep, kindred spirits and all.”

“So, now that you know the truth, has your opinion about mechanged?” he asks. “Are you disappointed?”

In the soft moonlight, I can see that he’s still smiling,but his nervousness is obvious. He doesn’t need to say why he’s feeling thisway. I understand.

Quitting his job and turning his back on a world he’s livedin for years is unsettling. The future’s unpredictable.

People won’t know the exact circumstances. Rumors will soonspread. The tabloids will say that he failed, entered rehab, died. Soon, peoplewill move on and forget him. He’ll become a nobody to them.

As a journalist, I know. This business is cruel. It doesn’tcare about one’s feelings. It only cares about money and selling more copiesthan the competition.

“Disappointed? Hell, no. I’m actually glad.” My fingers moveto intertwine with his. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like things to becomplicated.”

He stays silent for a long time.

“Those six days with you were amazing, Ava,” he says atlast. “Before, I didn’t know if I could trust you, but you turned out to be exactlythe woman I thought you were.”

I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment. I stillhaven’t quite figured outtheKellanBoyd, but I’d like to dedicate my time to solve the mystery he is.

“And who do you think I am?” I ask.

“Someone who’s amazing. Someone I want to get to know indepth.”

My breath hitches in my throat.

This is my chance to tell him that’s exactly what I want,too, and yet I keep quiet, letting him continue.

“The moment I met you, I knew you were different. Youweren’t dressed up to see some band greeting the crowd in a nightclub. Youweren’t even there to see the band.” His gaze flicks around the meadows beforeit settles on my eyes and lips again. “I liked that, so I remembered yourlicense registration and found out your name, where you lived, basicallyeverything I could find out about you. It helps that my brother’s the deputysheriff around here.”

“Wow. That’s creepy.” I slap his thigh in mock annoyance,marveling how hard and sculpted his muscles are. “See, that’s why I told Mandyabout you. I knew you were a creep, albeit a hot one,” I say, my voice low as Ithink back three months ago, give or take a week or two. “If Ryder found out mynumber, you could have called me.”

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