***
At six thirty that night, Morgan sat in her bedroom, still debating what to do. The coffee house was public, so she wasn’t concerned about any dangers associated with meeting Kellen there. Her concerns were more about Kellen himself. What did he want? And why was he so interested in her?
She had not told Ris about the encounter, and part of her felt guilty for that. Ris was her friend—her best friend. She knew all about Chelsea, knew how Morgan still cried sometimes when she got to thinking of all the things in life it would be nice to have a mom around for. But telling Ris about Kellen’s assertion that Chelsea was still out there somewhere… It was almost too private. Besides, it was completely unsubstantiated. And as for explaining what happened in the park during Kellen’s reading—the feeling Morgan had received about him being excited about and interested in her—she couldn’t explain it without sounding overly mystical. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she could explain what happened between herself and Kellen at all.
But she wanted answers. And that, more than anything, made the decision for her. After a quick trip to the bathroom to apply a little makeup—for which Morgan kind of hated herself—she headed out into the living room.
“Hey, hon,” her father called from the living room. When he glanced up at Morgan, an odd expression clouded his face. “You going out?”
Morgan smiled sheepishly. “What gave me away?”
Dylan circled his face with his pointer finger. “Makeup?”
“Looks like your little girl’s finally growing up.” Morgan rolled her eyes and walked into the living room.
“So, where to?”
“That new coffee house Ris and I found the other night,” Morgan said promptly. “Remember I was telling you about it?”
“The one with the psychic barista?” he asked.
Morgan smiled. “Lucas isn’t psychic.”
Dylan smiled, too. “No, just you, right?”
She laughed. “Of course. Anyway, there’s a band playing there tonight.”
“A little rock ’n’ roll?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. But I heard they’re pretty good.”
He nodded. “It’s good that you girls are making an effort to… expand your horizons.”
Morgan smiled and nodded but didn’t say anything. If her dad wanted to think she was going out to the coffee house with Ris, all the better. “I won’t be out too late,” she assured him.
“Like I worry about you.” Dylan smiled.
Morgan hugged her father and headed out the door.
The drive to the Daily Grind was short, and Morgan pulled up just before seven o’clock. She sighed. Too early. She didn’t want to seem like she was too eager to see Kellen. In truth, she wasn’t really—she was more curious. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kellen knew more than he was letting on. Morgan just wasn’t sure about what.
Deciding she would look more lame just sitting in her car, Morgan chose to go into the coffee house. When she entered, she immediately looked behind the counter, expecting to see Lucas. However, Lucas wasn’t there; instead, the barista was a twenty-something girl with blond hair who Morgan didn’t recognize. She felt a small pang of disappointment. With a sigh, she scanned the rest of the coffee house. In the front corner, a band was setting up. She saw amps, drums, and a great many guitars. She watched them with detached interest for a few moments before she became aware of a presence at her side.
“Glad you made it,” Kellen said when she turned, holding a glass out to her. “I knew you would.”
Morgan took the iced chai from him. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Luckily, she was spared having to because Kellen was leading her toward the back of the room. Two squashy couches formed an L in the corner, and two guys were already seated on one of them. One had jet black hair that fell in waves to his shoulders. The dark blond hair of the other was spiked up in a faux-hawk. Kellen led Morgan to the adjoining couch and sat so Morgan was forced to take the place nearest to the back wall, nearest to the other couch.
Morgan looked at Kellen unsurely. “You brought friends?”
“Yeah, kinda,” he admitted. “Sorry—I know I told you not to.”
Morgan forced a smile. “So, not the romantic evening you billed it as, then, huh?”
He shrugged. “Plenty of time for that.”
The blond cleared his throat.
“Ah, manners,” Kellen said. He scooted closer to Morgan and indicated the guys on the other couch. “Tesin and Wen,” he said, indicating the black-haired and blond-haired guys respectively.
“Tesin and Wen?” Morgan asked. “Not to be rude, but what kind of names are those?”
The blond, Wen, smiled. “Well, Wen’s short for Wendell.” He pulled a face. Then he indicated the black-haired guy with his thumb. “Tesin’s mom just had the good drugs when he was born.”
Tesin rolled his eyes and leaned toward Morgan. “Don’t listen to him. Tesin’s a family name. And it’s a helluva lot better than Wendell.”
Morgan smiled, not sure what else to do. She hadn’t expected this to be a group outing, though the fact that it was should have made her feel less nervous about being out with Kellen. However, she found she was feeling even more self-conscious: these guys clearly knew each other and she felt like they were all sizing her up somehow.
She took a sip of her chai.
“So,” said Wen, looking at Morgan, “have you ever heard these guys before?” He nodded toward the front of the coffee house.
Morgan shook her head. “I don’t even know who they are.”
“They play here pretty regularly,” Wen said. “Dreamers Often Lie. They’re pretty good. They do some covers that aren’t bad and they’ve got a couple of catchy originals.”
Tesin nodded. “And there’s one guitarist who’s pretty—” He glanced at Kellen. “—interesting.”
Morgan, not missing Tesin’s glance, turned to Kellen. “What’s interesting about the guitarist?”
Kellen just smiled. “Don’t worry, Morgan. The guitarist isn’t nearly as interesting as you are.”
Morgan crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah? And what’s so interesting about me?”
“Come on, Morgan,” Kellen said with a laugh. “You know that already.”
Wen and Tesin laughed a little, too, and Morgan felt her cheeks burn.
“Look, if you guys wanna talk in riddles all night, that’s your business.” Morgan stood up. “I’m leaving.” Without waiting for a response from Kellen, she started toward the door. As she got to it, one of the band members was making his way through. A guitar case was slung over his shoulder and he carried an amp in his left hand. Morgan stared at the amp, waiting for the guy to pass. It wasn’t until he came to a stop in the doorway that she looked up at him. When she saw his face, she groaned inwardly. Just what she needed.
Corbin Starling smiled broadly. Like the night of his party, he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. “Gypsy!” he greeted. “You came out to see us? That’s awesome.” He quickly scanned the coffee house. “Is Clare here, too?”
“No,” Morgan said. “And actually, I just need to get past you—” Morgan attempted to squeeze out the door, but she felt a hand on her arm. She stopped and turned.
“You don’t have to go out to your car,” Kellen said. “I found your phone on the couch.” He held a cell phone up as proof.
Confused, Morgan checked her pocket. No cell phone. She was about to say something to Kellen, but he was talking to Corbin.
“I’m Kellen,” he said, offering his free hand.
Corbin shook the hand and glanced at Morgan curiously. “Corbin Starling,” he said, turning his attention back to Kellen.
“Nice to meet you,” Kellen said, and he sounded sincere. “Your band’s pretty good.”
Corbin shrugged as the two broke the handshake. “We’re okay. Thanks, though.”
Kellen leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, you’re better than the rest of those gu
ys.”
Corbin shook his head. “No—Dave is—”
“Believe me,” Kellen said, cutting Corbin off. “You’re better.” He straightened up and slid the hand that was still on Morgan’s arm down to her hand. Giving it a little squeeze, he tugged her back toward the couches.
Still not sure what was going on, Morgan allowed herself to be led back toward the couches. She turned back to Corbin as she walked.
“Good seeing you, Gypsy,” Corbin called, looking as confused as Morgan felt. “And nice meeting your… Kellen.”
Morgan turned her attention forward and tried unsuccessfully to extricate her hand from Kellen’s. “Let go,” she hissed.
But Kellen’s gentle pressure on Morgan’s hand didn’t change. “Come on, Morgan. Don’t act like you’ve never held my hand before.”
Morgan continued to struggle against Kellen’s fingers. “That was different. This makes it look like—we’re dating or something.”
Kellen glanced at her. “You mean we’re not?” He gave a sly smile. “I asked you out and you clearly accepted…”
“That’s not why I’m here, and you know it,” Morgan snapped.
“Sure,” Kellen said, clearly placating her. He released her hand, but only because they were back at the couches. She sat down huffily and crossed her arms over her chest. She knew she looked like a five-year-old who hadn’t gotten her way, but she didn’t care.
Kellen sat down beside her and sighed. Morgan hadn’t expected their conversation to continue once they sat down, so she was surprised when she heard Kellen say, “I was just hoping we could enjoy ourselves a little before we got down to business.”
Morgan uncrossed her arms. “Business?” she asked tentatively. She glanced at Tesin and Wen. Had Kellen invited her out to give readings to him and his friends? She was more confused now than ever.
Kellen nodded. He leaned forward and, as if on cue, Tesin and Wen leaned forward, too. “Morgan, you’re special.”
Morgan eyed the three guys dubiously. She wondered if these guys were part of some elaborate plot masterminded by Lynna Rochester or one of her minions to humiliate her. But then she realized that Lynna’s minions weren’t smart enough to pull off something like that. And Lynna, for all her faults, would never sink so low as to play a joke involving Morgan’s mom. But if that was the case, she had no idea what these guys’ angle could be.
Wen groaned and rolled his eyes. “Really, Kellen? That’s what you’ve got?” When Kellen just shrugged, Wen turned his attention to Morgan. “You know how you tell fortunes? How you write your horoscopes? And how everyone thinks you’re so amazing and so right all the time?”
Morgan shrugged. “Yeah. People are dumb—they believe what they want to believe.”
“No,” Wen said, shaking his head and smiling. “It’s because you are right. Because—”
“You’re special,” Kellen repeated.
“Dude,” Wen said, turning his attention to Kellen. He shook his head.
Morgan felt her heart pounding. She looked at Wen. “What are you, like, stalking me or something? How do you know so much about me?”
Tesin elbowed Wen in the chest. “Good going, genius. She’s freaking out now. Calm her down.”
Morgan opened her mouth to tell them that nothing they could say would calm her, but before the words even formed on her lips, she felt her pulse slowing. She felt the adrenaline in her system ebb. The feeling was pleasant, but that made her panic even more. She shouldn’t be calm right now, so why was she feeling this way?
“Morgan, don’t fight me,” Wen said quietly. “Just calm down—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Morgan demanded, feeling her heart rate rise again. “I’m not fighting—”
“Yes, you are,” Wen said firmly, his voice slightly strained. He glanced at Kellen. “God, she’s strong.”
Kellen smiled wolfishly. “A fighter. I like it.”
Morgan heard the blood rushing in her ears.
Tesin shot Kellen a look. “Nice going.” He turned his attention to Morgan, fixing his dark blue eyes on hers. “Look, Morgan, we’re not going to hurt you. We just want to talk to you. But we can’t do that until you calm down, so, please, stop fighting Wen. Let him calm you down.”
Even though Morgan didn’t really understand what Tesin was saying, she saw the sincerity in his eyes. She took in a series of deep, even breaths and felt a wave of calm envelop her. In the front of the coffee house, the band began playing. Morgan closed her eyes and listened to the opening chords of a John Mayer song. By the time the lead singer began singing, she opened her eyes, completely calm.
“Now.” Morgan glanced at Kellen, Tesin, and Wen in turn. “Somebody please tell me who the hell you guys are.”
six