One Night with Sole Regret 05 Tie Me (19 page)

Owen pointed at images of flowers on his tablet. “So should I send her roses or a mixed bouquet? And chocolates too, right? Too soon for jewelry?”

“Owen, I’m not sure…”

“You’re right. She’s not the kind of woman who wears much jewelry. What do you think she would like? Perfume? Or… I could send her chicken panties. Yeah, that’s perfect. She’d get a kick out of that.”

Chicken
panties? Kellen was afraid to ask why she’d think chicken panties were the perfect gift.

“Some women feel uncomfortable when you buy them gifts,” he said. “Especially early in a relationship.” And Kellen took Caitlyn for that type of woman.

“I just want to keep her thinking about me,” Owen said. “And let her know I’m thinking about her.”

“Did you call her?”

“Yeah, like five times. She keeps joking that she has to get something done besides talking to me all day.”

“So she knows you’re thinking about her.”

Owen smiled as he purchased whatever silly pair of panties had caught his eye. “Should I send them to her office?”

“Panties? Uh, no. I don’t think she’d appreciate that.”

“Then I need her home address.” He started texting on his phone.

Kellen slapped himself in the forehead. So much for Owen following any advice. But he was smiling as he read Caitlyn’s reply. Owen looked so fucking happy that Kellen hated to put a damper on things, but he really needed to talk to him about the elephant that was always in the room these days.

“Owen,” Kellen said, “we need to talk about…” He took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks. Jeez, this was going to be even harder than he imagined. “…about all that kinky shit we did together.”

Owen read from his phone and typed Caitlyn’s address into his tablet. “Which kinky shit?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He looked totally disconnected from the conversation, and Kellen really needed him to be serious. “Do you mean me assisting you with tying women up so you could eat them out because you were afraid they might touch you?”

“No. I mean the other stuff.” He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “The touching each other stuff. That we did. To each other.”

“It was good for me. Was it good for you?” He laughed, and Kellen should have known Owen would try to make light of it. Getting him to confront anything serious was near impossible. So Kellen would just have to plow ahead and hope Owen took his words to heart.

“I want to apologize to you.”

“For what? Making me come really hard? I honestly didn’t mind.”

“I only touched you because I wanted someone to touch me back.”

“And there’s always a girl waiting to do just that.” Owen lifted his gaze from his cellphone before he’d finish sending his latest text. “So is this the conversation where you tell me you’re gay?”

“But I’m not gay.”

“And neither am I, so let’s forget about it and move on.”

“I’m not finished apologizing to you.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Owen’s voice rose, as if he were angry that Kellen was even bringing this up. “I don’t want your fucking apology. I just want to drop it, so drop it.”

“But I used you, Owen.”

“I use women all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“It
is
a big deal. You’re my best friend, and I made you do something you wouldn’t normally do.”

“You didn’t
make
me do anything. I know you’ve been suffering, and I’d rather give you the occasional hand job than watch you mope around like your life is over. Your life isn’t fucking over, Kellen. Sara’s life ended, not yours.”

His words were like a slap across the face.

“Do you think you need to tell me that?” Kellen yelled. “I live with that every fucking day of my life.”

“Well someone has to remind you; you’re apparently too stupid to see it on your own. And now you find some beautiful woman who might have a fighting chance of putting Sara in her grave where she belongs, and you can’t even find the balls to tell her you’re leaving.”

Kellen was too stunned to reply. Owen had never gone off on him like that. Ever. He’d always been so understanding and careful to spare Kellen’s feelings.

“Well…” Kellen sputtered. “Maybe I’ll see her again and maybe I won’t. It’s none of your business.”

“You won’t,” Owen said. “I know you won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re still wearing Sara’s cuff.”

Kellen looked down at his wrist and yep, there it was, right where he’d promised himself he’d never put it again.

Owen dove across the table and grabbed Kellen’s left forearm in both hands. “Give me that fucking thing. If you won’t get rid of it, I will.”

Owen shoved his back against Kellen’s chest to keep him pinned in the booth while he jerked on the buckles holding the cuff in place. Kellen didn’t know why he was fighting Owen. He’d love for someone to remove Sara’s burden from his wrist, but by the time Jacob wandered onto the bus and pulled them apart, they were both bruised and disheveled. Owen had the cuff in his hand, and Kellen had a scrap of Owen’s T-shirt clutched in his fist.

“What the fuck?” Jacob said, holding Owen in a headlock. “Never thought I’d see the day when you two came to blows.”

“Give me my fucking cuff back, asshole,” Kellen said, yanking his wrist free from Jacob’s steely grip.

“You took his cuff?” Jacob asked.

“He doesn’t need it anymore,” Owen yelled.

“I agree,” Jacob said, “but don’t you think he should get rid of it willingly? It just symbolizes Sara; it’s
not
Sara. Getting rid of the cuff isn’t going to change how he feels.”

Kellen wasn’t so sure. He’d had a whole lot of fun and shared a whole lot of intimacy with Dawn when the cuff had been off his arm the night before. He didn’t know why he had such an emotional connection to a piece of jewelry. It was stupid. Like a little kid who wouldn’t give up his security blanket because he was convinced the boogie man lived under his bed.

“Then he won’t care if I burn it,” Owen said.

“Don’t!” Kellen’s voice cracked. Already his wrist felt exposed without the cuff in place. “I tried to throw it away last night, but it came back to me.”

“You did?” Owen asked, his stance shifting to one that was still guarded, but not threatening.

Kellen nodded. “I threw it in the ocean and it immediately washed back ashore.”

“Try throwing it into a volcano and see if it comes back to you then,” Owen said.

Kellen glared at him.

Jacob released Owen and pointed at the dining table. “Both of you sit down and talk this out. There’s no sense in letting misunderstandings and petty arguments come between friends when everything can be solved with a simple conversation.”

“Oh, hey, kettle, I’m pot and wow, you’re black,” Owen said.

Yeah, that was some pretty hypocritical advice coming from Jacob.

“What?” Jacob said.

“Uh, you’ve been holding a grudge against Adam for how many years now?” Owen said. “And for why?”

“But you and Kellen never fight. Adam and I have always had differences.”

Owen looked at Kellen and held the cuff in his direction. “Here,” he said. “Put it back on if it makes you feel better.”

Kellen’s hand felt like a leaden weight. His breathing became shallow. His lips trembled. He could feel the pressure of tears behind his eyes as his throat tightened until he thought he’d suffocate. For what? For a stupid strap of leather? It wasn’t Sara. Wearing it didn’t really keep her close. It wasn’t even a tribute to his memories of her. It just made him miserable.

“Get rid of it,” he said breathlessly.

Owen drew his clenched fist to his chest, holding the bracelet against him as if to comfort it. Kellen couldn’t take his eyes off the black strap. He was tracking it like a cat preparing to pounce.

“Are you sure?” Owen said. “You know I can’t stand you to be mad at me.”

“I’m sure. Do it quick before I change my mind.”

Owen brushed past him and hurried down the bus steps. Jacob caught Kellen’s arm when after a few very long seconds, he turned to follow Owen.

“Stick to your guns, man.”

Kellen nodded and sank onto a sofa. He stared down at his bare wrist. It looked as foreign as it felt. The skin was a shade paler than that of his hand and forearm. So even though the cuff was gone, the evidence was still there. He closed his eyes and massaged his arm with his free hand.

“You know what you need?” Jacob said, taking a seat beside him.

“A bottle of whiskey?”

“A wristwatch.” Jacob unfastened the analog watch he sometimes wore before a concert—he was paranoid about being late and had a hard time reading digital clocks correctly. He handed the watch to Kellen. Kellen appreciated the gesture, but he didn’t think it would help. He put it on anyway and while it wasn’t the same as wearing a cuff—the watch band was cold metal, a bit looser, and about half the thickness of his bracelet—it did make his wrist feel less exposed and he wasn’t compelled to massage it, as if he had cuff obsessive-compulsive disorder.

“Thanks.”

Jacob slapped him on the back and then rose from the sofa. “Now you just have to make sure I get to the show on time.”

Ah, so there was a catch.

Kellen reached for the clasp on the back of the watch’s silver band. “I don’t need—”

Jacob’s hand circled Kellen’s wrist. “Wear it until you get your head out of your ass.”

Kellen laughed. “So you’re not expecting this back anytime soon?”

“However long it takes.”

Owen returned to the bus a short while later. Kellen had a bit of blue rope in one hand and was rubbing it with his thumbs, remembering how it had looked against Dawn’s pale skin.

“So you traded a cuff for a watch and a piece of rope?”

Kellen didn’t respond. He didn’t want to talk to Owen at the moment. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, but he did crave the feel of Dawn’s arms around him and the feel of her soft breasts pressing into his chest. He missed her. Her smile. Her laugh. The way her eyes sparked when she was perturbed. The sound of her voice. The way her fingers moved across her piano keys. Across his skin.
Her
. He missed
her
.

Shit. He couldn’t allow himself to think about Dawn right now.

He poked the piece of rope under the cuff on his right wrist.

Owen went back to buying Caitlyn gifts on the Internet and chuckling at various text messages that binged onto his phone every thirty seconds or so. Jacob had disappeared into the bathroom. Kellen wondered where Gabe and Adam were. The bus felt really empty. He had an uncharacteristic need to be surrounded by people and, as a loner, it felt strange to admit that to himself.

“What did you do with it?” Kellen asked in one of the pauses between Owen’s text message alerts.

“I buried it,” Owen said.

“Someplace nice?”

“Yeah.”

Kellen nodded, grateful that Owen hadn’t tossed Sara’s cuff in a dumpster or flushed it down the toilet. Kellen stood, deciding he’d go watch the crew set up the stage. Something to keep him busy so that his thoughts didn’t stray to his missing cuff or the continual turbulence in his soul. Or to the woman who had calmed that turmoil by creating the most beautiful melody he’d ever heard and held nothing back when she’d held him in her arms.

Kellen was halfway to the door when Lindsey climbed the stairs. Their band’s twenty-two-year-old lackey, Jordan, was right behind her, carrying several sacks of groceries and chattering about NASCAR. Kellen retreated toward the back of the bus so he didn’t have to brush against them on his way through the narrow corridor. Lindsey took the sacks from Jordan one at a time and set them on a counter in the kitchenette. She looked so much like Sara it was actually painful to look at her, but pain didn’t stop Kellen from staring. Would Sara have looked that beautiful pregnant? With his child growing in her womb? They’d talked about having kids before she’d gotten sick. At the time, he had been a bit hesitant about all the responsibility a child entailed, but if she’d had a baby, a bit of her would have been left behind. Part of her, mixed inseparably with part of him, would have lived on.

Kellen started when someone bumped into his back. Jacob grasped Kellen’s shoulders from behind and squeezed. “There’s just something sexy about a pregnant woman,” he said. “When Tina was pregnant with Julie, I couldn’t keep my hands off her.”

Uh… Was Jacob lusting after Lindsey? Weird. Especially since the baby was some other man’s. Maybe. At least Jacob liked kids. What if the kid was Adam’s? Adam detested kids. And what would Gabe do if it turned out to be his? A dude could go crazy wondering about such things. It was no wonder that Lindsey had insisted it was Owen’s. Not knowing whose child you were carrying had to be a serious mind-fuck. And what would it be like to give birth to a child created out of lust, not love?

“She’s cute,” Kellen agreed, so that Jacob would stop squeezing his shoulders.

“You know who would look fuck hot pregnant?” Jacob asked, still watching Lindsey like some predator.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“Amanda.”

Fuck, he said it.

“Don’t you think you should date a woman for more than a week before you start trying to knock her up?” Kellen asked.

Jacob slapped him on the back of the head. “I’m not going to knock her up. I just think she would look hot pregnant.”

“I don’t think you should tell her that.”

Jacob chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

“Thank you, Jordan,” Lindsey said loudly, cutting him off in the middle of a description of his favorite driver’s car. She’d been patiently listening to him prattle for several long minutes. Jordan was very good at prattling and bad at recognizing shut-up-now cues. “I think they need your help outside.”

“They do?” Jordan glanced toward the open bus door. “I was going to help you make sandwiches for the guys.”

“I’ve got a handle on it,” she said. “Go on now.”

“If you need anything,” he said, “anything at all, just ask.”

“I will. Thanks for giving me a ride to the store.”

Jordan stood there for another long minute, raking a hand through his dirty-blond hair, before finally turning to leave.