I ignored his comment. "And he needs me with him."

Dad snorted, like he didn't believe that, like he believed Kellan preferred to be on his own on the road. But Dad hadn't seen how hard Kellan's last tour was on him. True, a lot of the turmoil had been because of his father, but I think a large part was also because of me, because he'd wanted to be with me and couldn't be. I know that's how I'd felt about him.

Before Dad could voice his objection, I added, "And besides, I'm not throwing away my education. I'm going to be a writer, and I can do that on the road with Kellan."

Dad gave me a blank stare. "A writer? You can't make a living being a writer."

Mom elbowed Dad in the ribs, and he glanced over at her. "What?"

Ignoring him, Mom turned to me. "I'm sure you'll do very well, honey. Your father is just concerned about you struggling . . . just in the beginning, of course."

I frowned at Dad. That wasn't entirely his objection. Unless I was, say, a journalist writing for a major newspaper, Dad considered writing to be as frivolous as making music. A real job consisted of set hours, a set location, and a set paycheck. Dad liked things he could depend on. I did too, but I also knew that Kellan's life was about to explode. Dad may not believe it yet, but he would soon. Kellan was too talented for the world not to take notice.

Switching my scowl to a placating smile, I assured him, "Kellan and I will do just fine. You don't need to worry."

His irritated expression turned concerned. "I'll always worry about you, Kiera."

My anger softened. Sighing, I released my hold on Jenny and walked over to Dad. Throwing my arms around him, I told him, "I'll be fine, and I love you too."

I heard him sniff as he wrapped his arms around me. I figured then that Dad would eventually come around. He may not ever fully support my decision, but he wouldn't hold it against me either, just like he didn't hold Anna's poor decisions against her. My parents loved us through all of our ups and downs. And while this was a down for them, it was an up for me.

Pulling back from Dad, I brightly told him. "Let's go home, and I'll tell you all about it."

Dad nodded, then sighed.

Chapter 5: A Proper Sendoff

A week later, the whole family made the trip to the airport to see off my parents. When we got to the drop-off area, I couldn't help but longingly stare at the planes waiting outside. I wished I was getting on one to be with Kellan. I already missed him. He missed me too. I'd received a postcard in the mail from him the day before, a picture of the Hollywood sign. On the back he'd written, Hurry up and get here so I can stop daydreaming about you.

Mom gave Anna a warm hug while Dad explained that I needed to check in with him every day. "I'm serious, Kiera. And, if I don't hear from you for a couple of days . . . then . . . I'm flying out to get you." His face was stern, but his eyes belied his true concern for me. He really didn't like the idea that I was leaving.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Dad, I'll be fine. Kellan will be with me the entire time." Dad was scowling when I released him. My words of comfort weren't so comforting for him. Dad hadn't entirely warmed to Kellan yet, and he wasn't exactly the ideal bodyguard in Dad's eyes.

Anna distracted him from his misery by engulfing him in a playful hug. "Bye, Daddy."

Dad's frown shifted to a wide smile as he patted her back. I turned to say goodbye to Mom. After she kissed my head and told me she loved me, she asked, "So, have you decided between a winter or spring wedding? Because we've got a lot of work to get started on."

I contained my sigh as I stepped from her embrace. I'd heard this question about a hundred times already. "I'll let you know, Mom."

She raised her eyebrows. "Don't wait too long. I need to get the announcements out."

I did sigh that time.

Once our parents were safely tucked onto the plane, Anna turned to face me. With a long sigh, she asked, "Is it just because I'm pregnant, or are they always this taxing?"

I laughed at her and shrugged. I couldn't speak for the pregnancy part, but I had to imagine that her condition only added to the problem. Well-intentioned or not, our parents could be draining.

As eager as I was to see Kellan, I was also a little reluctant to leave Seattle. I had anchors here. A place was just a place, as I'd told Kellan before, but places came with people, and there were a few that I was really going to miss. When Jenny and I closed up the bar the night before my last shift, it felt surreal to me. Tomorrow was the last day I'd ever work at Pete's. Jenny grabbed me in the parking lot and pulled me in for a tight embrace; there were tears in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you so much, Kiera."

I held her back just as tight, holding in my own tears. "Stop, you're going to make me cry," I warbled. She released me, and I rubbed her shoulder. "And I'm not going anywhere yet. I still have to work tomorrow, remember?"

Jenny sniffed and swiped her fingers under her eyes. "I know. I just . . . I hate goodbyes."

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched Jenny let out a slow, controlled exhale. "It's not goodbye yet. And I'll be back."

Jenny brightened as she swished her hand. "Oh, I know you will. Besides, I'll be visiting you guys whenever I can." Her sudden grin was exhilarant; it matched the glow of her platinum hair. "There is one good thing about you leaving Pete's, though."

Not quite sure what that could be, I gave her a blank expression. Jenny bounced on her toes and exclaimed, "We get to throw you a party tomorrow night!"

I cringed. I really didn't want to be the center of attention at a going-away party. Seeing my reaction, Jenny schooled her features. "Oh, don't worry. We'll keep it real low-key. Just some cake in the back room."

Somehow, I was sure that wouldn't be the case.

Driving back to my empty home in Kellan's Chevelle, I was suddenly struck with loneliness. Kellan had only been gone for a couple of weeks, but it felt like forever. Our little white two-story house looked cold and uninviting as I approached it. There was just something about Kellan being here that made the house seem alive. His energy filled it with life, with music.

As I unlocked the door, I dug in my bag for my phone. It was late, but it probably wouldn't be too late. Kellan was sort of a night owl. He was also an early riser, so if I did miss him, I wouldn't have to wait too long to hear his sultry voice.

I closed and relocked the door as I dialed his number. He picked up almost instantly. "Hey, you. How did you know I was thinking about you?"

I laughed at his greeting. "Because you're always thinking about me."

"Very true," he husked. "I miss you. Are you coming up soon?"

My smile was blissful as I hung up my bag and jacket. "Anna and I will be on a plane Friday morning." Anna had taken the Fourth of July holiday weekend off of work so she could safely deliver me to Los Angeles. Surprisingly, it had been Dad's idea. But Anna was up for any sort of adventure and had eagerly agreed. In fact, she would have put us on a red-eye right after I finished at Pete's tomorrow, but she had a very important doctor's appointment the next day.

"Good. I've been prepping our room. You're gonna love it."

My grin got even wider. "Our room?"

"Yep." I heard the sounds of other people laughing and wondered who else was awake at this hour. "And, I'm not sure if I mentioned this or not, but bring your suit. The house has a pool."

Kellan and the band were staying at a house that the record label owned. From what Kellan had told me about it so far, it was nice, so I wasn't too surprised that it had a pool. It seemed like pools were a lot more common in California than they were in Washington. We had espresso stands on every corner; they had pools in every backyard.

Trudging upstairs, I told Kellan how excited I was to join him. Staying at this house by myself was a little scary at times. I'd even gotten into the habit of writing in bed until the early hours of the morning; immersing myself in my romantic memoir stopped me from thinking about the possibility that a boogeyman was lurking in the closet. Having Kellan verbally tuck me into bed also helped to ease those late-night fears. His voice always had a soothing effect on me. Well, perhaps "soothing" wasn't the best word. While his voice always affected me, there were definitely times when the sultry sound that came out of his mouth was anything but relaxing.

With the phone glued to my ear, I got ready for bed. Because I missed him, I threw on a shirt that I didn't typically wear. It was saturated with Kellan's scent, and I didn't want that to fade. Slipping on the black shirt with the word "Douchebags" in bright-white bold letters, I crawled into our bed.

As Kellan gave me the rundown on his schedule, I brought the fabric of my T-shirt up to my nose and inhaled the smell of him. It was incredible-manly, yet clean. I still wasn't sure what combination of products he used to create that scent, but it was the most sensuous smell in the world. I supposed it was possible that it wasn't a manufactured scent. Maybe he just naturally smelled amazing; his bare skin was quite edible, after all.

I giggled a little at that thought, and Kellan stopped talking. "What are you doing?" he asked, a clear smile in his voice.

"I just crawled into bed-"

He immediately cut me off. "Are you nak*d?"

I flushed all over and felt a stirring in my body by his words alone. I could still hear faint noises in the background, so I knew Kellan wasn't by himself. But maybe he could be . . .

"No . . . I'm wearing the shirt you gave me a long time ago. It's my favorite shirt. I don't usually wear it, though." I closed my eyes as I confessed just how obsessed with him I was. "It smells like you, and I want it to stay that way."

Kellan chuckled in a low tone; it ignited the spark of heat in my belly that he'd stoked earlier. I ran a hand over my body as the ache of loneliness within me grew. I missed him so much-his touch, his smile, his eyes, his tattoo . . . his heart. Everything.

"Really?" he asked. "Do I . . . smell?"

A low purr escaped me. "Yes, you do, and it's the best smell in the world. Better than coffee."

Kellan groaned. "God, Kiera, you're turning me on."

I smiled, imagining him as restless as I was becoming. "Are you alone?" I whispered, afraid that somehow, someone would hear me . . . or Kellan. He wasn't exactly opposed to intimate public performances.

"Hold on," he muttered instantly. After another second, I heard him addressing the room. "Night, guys, see you in the morning." There was some murmuring in the background, and then it faded, and all I heard was Kellan telling me, "Now I am. Did you want something?"

I ran a hand down my face. I still struggled with this part-forwardly asking him what I wanted, what I needed. But I remembered what he said the morning after our wedding night; he wanted me to feel comfortable asking him for anything, talking to him about anything. I shouldn't be embarrassed. Kellan loved me, heart and soul, and he'd never intentionally hurt me. He may tease me on occasion, but I didn't think he would tonight.

"Kellan," I murmured, my voice doing that groan-growl thing that had turned him on before. "I miss you, and I want to make love to you." Before I could comprehend what I was saying, I quickly added, "Take your clothes off."

I slapped my hand to my forehead after I said it-it wasn't exactly the sexiest request. I expected Kellan to chuckle and give me a smart-alecky line, but he didn't. Sucking in a quick breath, he groaned, "God, that was hot. I'm so hard right now. I wish you could see."

My heart thumping in my chest, an image of him flooded my head. A thought popped into my mind and I repeated it to him without exactly meaning to. "Send me a picture."

I clamped down on my lip so hard, I thought I might draw blood. Did I seriously just tell him to send me a d-pic? I really never thought I'd ever ask him that. Then again, there were a lot of things I'd never expected myself to do with Kellan. He opened me in very unexpected ways.

Just as I was wondering if Kellan really would send a picture, he told me, "Hold on." Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I heard his jeans unzipping. Oh. My. God.