Chapter 22

 

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re excited,” Kell quipped, tapping Becky under the chin. Ever since he got home that afternoon, she’d been fluttering around him like a dizzy butterfly. He hadn’t seen her this happy in days, and it did his heart a world of good.

“I can’t help but be excited!” She giggled, clapping her hands together, watching as the Goths loaded the van up with their equipment. It was all so very interesting. So many parts and pieces. She was so looking forward to getting out tonight.

Watching her handsome Goths perform… could there be anything more exhilarating?

“Watch yourself, dormouse,” Crispin said, sidestepping her with a guitar case in his hands.

“Sorry…”

“Just stand back a bit, Becky,” Dorian reminded her. “Wouldn’t want to clip you.”

“All right, that’s the last of it,” Kell said, closing up the garage. “Everyone into the van.” Coming at her, he picked Becky up, spun her around, and pretended to toss her into the back.

“Kelley!” Becky squealed with delight.

“Oops, sorry, thought you were one of our props.” He laughed, righting her onto her feet.

Dorian hopped in behind the steering wheel. Circling around the back of the van, Crispin paused and glanced at Becky, giving her the once over.

“What?” She glanced at herself. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Seeing him quirk a curious eyebrow, Kell wondered the same thing. Other than the fact that she looked adorable in her little jersey dress, black tights, suede ankle booties on her feet, he didn’t quite understand the reason behind Crispin’s prolonged perusal.

“Best be making sure you’ve got proper ID,” Crispin suggested, looking her over once more.

“Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Kell said with a smile. It suddenly dawned on him that Becky didn’t look a day over sixteen. “You do have ID, don’t you, love?”

“I’m nineteen! I’m of legal age!” she stated with an indignant frown.

“We know that,” Kell said with a sigh of relief. “But you still need ID.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Becky said, following the Goth back into the house to retrieve her age of majority card.

 

On the drive over to the college bar where they were playing that night, Becky couldn’t help but be super excited. The guys all looked so hot. They were handsome devils on a regular day, but tonight they looked incredible. Not only did they look awesome, they smelled yummy too, all wrapped up into an intoxicating blend of warm leather and black liquorice.

Sitting next her, Kelley, in his pseudo-military inspired Gothness was nothing short of stunning. The fact that he was in an extra affectionate mood, was an added bonus of pure joy as far as Becky was concerned.

“So, what do think, eh?” he said, giving her knee a playful, lingering squeeze.

“About what?” She giggled, staring at his great big hand on her knee.

“The big event!”

“Right, we’ll be lucky if we make it through the first set,” Crispin grumbled.

“Oh, suck it up, man.” Dorian laughed.

“Well, I’ll cheer for you,” Becky said, reaching forward and placing her hand on Crispin’s shoulder.

“Wonderful,” he grumbled, “We have ourselves a cheerleader.”

“Just as long as you cheer loudest for me,” Kell said, drawing her back, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Kell couldn’t help himself. He was in an awesome mood. No doubt about it. After she’d shared her feelings with him that morning, he’d taken it all to heart.

He hadn’t meant to be neglectful of her. He had thought he was doing her a favour by not encouraging her attachment to him. But what the fuck was the point in that? In the end, they both ended up losing out. As far as he was concerned, she was his little Becky.

On the way home earlier, he’d made up his mind to keep a closer eye on her, even if at a respectable distance. If all she wanted was a little attention, he would be more than happy to give her that. Perhaps then she wouldn’t feel the need to frown about the house, pining after that miserable prick, Jax.

 

“Right then, you sit right here and watch our stuff,” Kell said, tucking Becky into the booth closest to the stage.

“Oh, all right,” she said absently looking over his shoulder, watching Dorian and Crispin set themselves up.

“What can I get you to drink?” He leaned in close to her, brushing her hair away from her face. God help him, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her tonight, let alone his hands.

“Oh, a ginger ale, I guess.” She reached for her wallet.

“It’s on me, love.” He chuckled, giving his head a shake. “One ginger ale, on its way.” He turned and made his way towards the bar.

What an interesting place, Becky observed. Located near the university, the bar was definitely a hangout for students. It had a distinct Irish pub influence about it. The smell of beer and chips wafted heavily in the air. Noticing the arrival of a few Goths, she realized that they must be here to see her guys.

On that note, Becky glanced back towards the stage and watched as Dorian and Crispin set up a black, vinyl banner.

“Here you go, one sparkling ginger ale.” Kell placed the drink in front of her. Taking a quick break, Dorian and Crispin joined them at the booth. Seeing her focused so intently on the stage, he couldn’t help but ask, “What are you staring at?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what that means.” She frowned, pointing at the banner. “The Kingston Quartet?”

“Love, that’s our band’s name.” Kell couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“But there’s only three of you.”

“Ain’t that ironic?” Crispin snarked, taking a sip of her drink. “What the fuck is this, ginger ale? Who the fuck drinks ginger ale?”

Becky frowned at him. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s what the lady ordered,” Kell sighed, sliding it back to Becky.

“Well, she can damn well keep it.” Crispin made a face and left for the bar.

The prickly Goth was back! Becky couldn’t help but wonder about him. After the day they’d had together, she was even more perplexed. Following that fiasco with the dreaded black box, they’d had the best time, kicking back, watching movies. Here he was all snarky and miserable again.

“Never mind, eh,” Dorian said. “Just enjoy the show, Becky.”

“Yeah, he’s a miserable bastard at times, but he means well,” Kell added.

“Kind of like you in a way, Kell,” Dorian teased, giving Becky a conspiring wink before heading back to the stage.

“Fuck off, you,” Kell scoffed, before sliding into the booth beside Becky. He watched her fighting back a giggle. “You agree with him, don’t you?”

“Well, he’s not far off…”

“What do you know about it?” he purred, losing himself in her quirky smile. It’s a good thing they were in a public place at that moment. He was having the hardest time fighting the urge to kiss the living daylights out of her. As it was, he couldn’t keep his hand off her lovely little knee.

Suddenly the strapping Goth was all hands. Becky wasn’t complaining, that’s for sure. In fact, she was loving every minute of his undivided attention.

“All I know is that you’re needed on stage right now,” she said, biting her lip, torn between having him near or watching him play that sexy ass bass of his.

The bar was now very crowded, and Crispin and Dorian had both taken their places. All that was missing from the stage was Kelley.

“You just stay right here,” he whispered in her ear. “Where I can see you.”

“I might have to get up and walk around to stretch my legs.”

He couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to. “I’ll give you something to stretch your legs around,” he growled, nipping at her earlobe.

“Kelley?” She gasped, caught off guard. She instinctively leaned into his steely warmth, delighting in her body’s reaction to his suggestive phrasing.

Without so much as another word, the lusty Goth slipped out of the booth, heading towards the stage with a cat-like swagger in his step.