Untamed (Page 22)

Stepping off the stairs, Matt made a lunge for me. I managed to back away in time, but his arms were extended like a zombie hunting his prey, and his fingers curled and uncurled like he was mentally choking the life from me. It was kind of creepy. Before Matt could actually throttle me, Kellan stepped between us with his arms outstretched.

“Whoa! Let’s not do anything stupid here,” he said, looking between Matt and me.

Matt shifted his angry eyes to Kellan. “He ruined my engagement, Kell. Let me choke him. Just until he passes out. We’ll all be thankful for the quiet flight, trust me.”

Kellan sighed while I raised my chin in indignation. Asshole. Damn Anna for making this such a big deal. Why the hell couldn’t Matt and I just ignore each other for a while? A long while. Self-righteous fucker was still on my shit list.

“He didn’t ruin anything, Matt,” Kellan calmly replied. “Rachel said yes, and that’s really all that matters, right?”

Matt rolled his eyes but grudgingly nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

Kellan patted his shoulder. “Good. Then how about we let this go so we can get through this tour in one piece?” That made me scoff. Letting it go was Kellan’s answer to everything. Well some of us aren’t as saintly as you, Kyle. Some of us have grudges that aren’t so easily released.

Matt glared at me once more, murmured, “Fine,” then disappeared into the plane.

Kellan let Matt disappear, but when I started to follow him, he put a hand on my chest. “Maybe you should give him a minute.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I locked eyes with Kellan. “Why is everyone so bent out of shape about this? It’s not like I embarrassed anyone but myself last night, and I really don’t care if people saw my junk.”

Kellan frowned as he shook his head. “That’s what you don’t get. What you do affects more than just you. It touches everyone you’re connected to. Try and remember that, okay?”

He patted my shoulder and walked over to Kiera and Ryder. With a scowl on my face, I watched him leave. I was aware of other people. Even though everyone treated me like I was a complete moron, I wasn’t. Last night was an honest mistake, a mistake that any one of them could have made. It wasn’t like I was intentionally trying to hurt the band. Not like they were by keeping me tied down. Jerkwads.

Kellan and Kiera were helping Anna with Gibson, so I hopped onto the plane to sulk in peace. Matt was in the very back, staring out the window. Ignoring him, I took a spot by the front. Kellan was probably right about space, but I was the one who wanted it. Fuckers were always picking on me, holding me to a standard that was almost impossible to maintain. Couldn’t they just accept me for the person I was, instead of trying to force me to be someone they wanted me to be? Isn’t that what friends were supposed to do?

The plane was a ten-seater, with more than enough space for everyone. It was swanky too, with leather captain’s chairs, tables, a kitchen area, and an almost full-sized bathroom. Anna and Gibson sat at a table across from me, while Kiera and Ryder sat at the next table with Kellan and Evan. Matt remained alone in the back. That guy could sulk even better than I could. Maybe it was in our genes.

Evan ignored me for the first third of the flight, then he finally started talking to me. Or at me. “Jenny is really upset over what happened at the gallery, and frankly…I am too. What were you thinking?” he asked, his eyes dark and soulful.

Tired of talking about last night, I shook my head. “I was horny. I didn’t know the curtain was coming down. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. Okay?”

Evan thought about it for a minute, then nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

His acceptance made me smile. If only Matt would snap out of it as quickly. But I’d ruined his plans, and Matt hated ruined plans. I’d just have to wait out his pissiness. Easier said than done. He was always getting riled up over something.

It took two weeks, but Matt eventually got over it. He never actually said he forgave me, but he stopped glaring and started joking. I knew we were back on track when he started insulting me. That was how I gauged our relationship—if he was giving me shit, then he wasn’t mad at me.

I think it helped that images from that night starting cropping up everywhere, and some clever asshole had started calling me Hand Solo. It stuck, and the name was everywhere in a heartbeat. Matt thought that was hysterical, and he’d taken up the nickname too. Whatever. Didn’t matter. That night had been one of the hottest moments I’d ever had with Anna. It was a fond memory for me, one that reminded me just how amazing, sexy, and up for anything my wife really was, and reminiscing about it made me giddier than a thirteen-year-old with a hidden Playboy magazine stashed under his mattress. I wasn’t sorry it had happened. All I was sorry about was that I hadn’t had a chance to finish.

As things with Matt returned to normal, my thoughts returned to showcasing myself this tour. There had to be a way to do it. If Matt wouldn’t give me a chance to play lead guitar, then maybe Kellan would let me be front man. Not for all the songs, but maybe one. Or two. One of the crappier ones that no one cared about.

Since we rode on the same bus together, I had plenty of time to talk to him about it. “Come on, Kell, I know the songs better than you do, and my voice is spectacular. The crowd will love it!”

He looked up from playing with Ryder on his lap. Ryder had a few teeth coming in, and the front of his blue D-Bags romper was soaked in saliva. He was all smiles though; my nephew was rarely unhappy. While Ryder grabbed for a set of plastic keys in Kellan’s hand, Kellan shook his head. “No, Griffin. I already said that.”