Beautiful Distraction(80)

The truck pulls up next to me, and the window rolls down.

“Ava?”

I continue walking, mumbling, “Leave me alone.”

The truck speeds up, coming to a halt a few yards down the road. Leaving the engine running, Kellan jumps out and slams the door shut. I try to ignore him as he plants himself in front of me, until I have no choice but to look up into his face.

“What are you doing? You cannot walk out here all alone.” His expression is a mixture of worry and anger.

“I’m an adult.”

“And I’m your host, and I say you can’t be here alone.”

I shrug. “Why not? You said it was safe. What changed your mind?”

“I wasn’t talking about the people, Ava. We have wild animals, and they can be dangerous.” He sighs. “Look. I know you’re pissed.”

“Pissed?” I scoff and stare at him, pointing to my face. “Does my face look pissed? I’m hurt, Kellan. Disappointed. You told me you wouldn’t return before the weekend. I thought that was our goodbye. A really crappy one, by the way. And then I find out that the sole reason I’m here is because you arranged for me to win tickets.” My anger’s choking me, but I don’t care. I have so much to say to him. “The past week, I told you everything about my life, and you barely fed me morsels of information about yours. You kept the fact that you’re a famous rock star to yourself. How is that fair?”

“I know how that sounds.”

“You do?” I ask, doubting it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He hesitates. “I wasn’t sure you’d understand.”

I shake my head. “Of course. What else?” I move past him to resume walking, when his hand grips my upper arm to stop me.

“I mean it,” Kellan says. “I thought you wouldn’t understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand? It’s not like you have to be embarrassed for your job.” I try to look up into his eyes, which isn’t possible. He’s standing so close, I have to tilt my head back, and it hurts. “Fuck, everyone would want to be in your shoes.”

“Exactly. That’s why I kept it from you.”

“I don’t understand.” I frown at him. “You thought I’d be jealous? That I might want to be a rock star?”

The assumption is so ridiculous, I find myself laughing.

“No, Ava,” he says sharply, “I thought you would judge me.”

“Why would I judge you?”

“Are you kidding me?” He pauses, hesitating, as though what he has to say is hard for him. “People change when they find out I’m K. Taylor. They go crazy, especially once they realize I have money. I can’t risk telling someone I don’t trust who I am, out of fear that they might go to the papers and seek their own five minutes of fame. People think because they know my name and read made-up stories about me, that they know me. They don’t.” He grimaces, and his expression contorts into one of disgust. From up close, in the bright lights of his truck, I can see every line on his face. The tiredness. The frustration. “You have absolutely no idea what fame does to people or how far they’d go to get it. I’ve reached a point where I can’t trust anyone. It has nothing to do with you. I just can’t trust people. Too many have betrayed my trust and invaded my privacy. The only people I can trust are the ones I grew up with, and they are here in this town. My brothers. A few close friends. Sharon.”

That’s not a lot.

I’m sorry for him.

At last, I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly before I say, “You still could have tried me. I would have understood.”

“Yeah.” He cringes. “Except you hate Mile High, and you’re a journalist. That’s a great combination.”

“I don’t hate Mile High,” I protest weakly, ignoring the latter part.

“You said you did. Do you want me to reiterate your exact words?” He lets go off my arm. “You called us a boring, over the top, overrated, untalented bunch of idiots.”

I did?

I cringe at my choice of words. “I’m sorry. I might have said all of that, and I admit it’s horrible. The truth is, I think you have an amazing voice. I do. But I never really listened to any of your songs. My parents made me biased toward the music business and anything commercial. Toward music in general. But just because I’m not a fan doesn’t mean I hate the band. I just didn’t care to give you guys a try. That’s all. And I’ll be honest with you, just because you’re the lead singer doesn’t mean I’ll change my opinion about what the music industry stands for.” The words are out before I can stop them. I can feel the offense in the air, and I couldn’t blame him if he turned around and left without a look back.