The mohawk was gone, his hair much shorter, but still with enough length on top where Ash had it styled to be artfully tousled. The yellow and red color was gone too, it now being a very dark brown. The darker color accented Ash’s blue eyes, making them seem crystalline, but what really made them stand out was the black eyeliner framing them. It looked like he hadn’t shaved that morning, stubble shadowed his jaw and lower cheeks, giving his soft facial features a rugged edge.
With him fully stretched out on the couch, Jackson took in Ash’s long, lean body, from the black leather pants to the tight black spandex shirt covered in gray skulls. With how the shirt conformed to him, each wiry muscle in his torso was visible. Jackson also made out the circular shape of rings in Ash’s nipples. The short sleeves showed Ash’s sinewy arms inked in tattoos. A grinning skull resting in a bed of red flames adorned his right forearm, the word “From” written above the skull, “Ashes” written below the flames. On his left forearm, a tribal dragon curved up to his elbow. Black flames in the same tribal style came from the dragon’s mouth, small near Ash’s elbow, then spreading out across his bicep. He had thick black leather cuffs studded in steal spikes on his wrists. Each earlobe was decorated with two black diamond studs.
There was no mistaking Ash for anything other than the rock star he was, and there was also no denying he looked better than Jackson had ever seen him. He knew Ash was a good looking man, but sometimes the styles Ash did with his hair and clothes distracted from it. Seeing him now, his hair and clothes simpler but trendy, Jackson couldn’t take his eyes off him.
Ash tipped his head to the side in a contemplating look. “Well, Kent was right. Of all the people I’d expect to knock on my door, you wouldn’t even come close to making the list.”
“Yeah, I can understand that, Mr. Ivers. We haven’t exactly had much in the way of friendly conversation.”
Ash let out a soft laugh. “Dude, don’t call me mister.”
The other band members joined in with his snickering.
Jackson glanced at them. He knew all their names. How could he not with the way Ash kept himself in his line of sight. Sitting at a table was the drummer, Devin Hayes, his thick arms folded across his barrel chest, his eyes dark brown, his hair nothing more than black fuzz with how he had it buzzed close to his head.
The bass player, Chad Anders, leaned back on a counter, and even though he was snickering with the others, he had a friendly look to him. Of course, that could be because with his small build, blond hair, blue eyes, and young looking face, he had an innocent appearance to him. But Jackson also knew appearances could be deceiving.
Guitarist, Jeremy Shimoda, sat at the table with Devin, and was twisted around to look at him. He had half his black hair pulled up in a ponytail, the other half fell to the tops of his shoulders. Jackson knew from Jeremy’s last name and from reading about him he was half Japanese, and his features blended the beauty of both his Caucasian and Asian ethnicities. He was also the only one not snickering. Instead, Jeremy looked at him with interest.
Jackson brought his attention back to Ash. “Sorry. I’m not much of one for being called mister either, but I thought I’d try to be polite.”
Louder laughter came from Ash. “Trying to be polite? Since when the hell have you ever wanted to be polite to me?”
Jackson suppressed a growl in his throat before it slipped out. He forced his voice to be calm and steady. “I’ve always tried to be polite every time I’ve had to respond to one of your temper tantrum comments.”
Ash snapped himself upright, bracing both hands on the couch as if he was about to launch himself off it. “Just because I say it like it is doesn’t mean I’m having a temper tantrum.”
“Maybe not, but you’re having a damn good one right now.”
Ash’s mouth dropped open with a stuttering breath slipping out. He snapped it closed, his lips set in a hard line. As he spoke again, half the words came from between clenched teeth. “You can say I’m having temper tantrums or whatever the hell else you want, but at least people know what they’re getting with me. I am who I am, and I don’t a give a shit who likes it and who doesn’t. Not like you, who throws out insults behind your good boy smile.”
Jackson took a step toward him, pointing down at him. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, so don’t talk like you do. I’m not as much of a good boy as everyone thinks.”
Ash stood up. “Really? How so? No, wait, I bet I know. You’re kinkaholic in the bedroom, aren’t you? You’ve probably even…” he sucked in a sharp gasp, “fucked with the lights on. You rebel!”
Jackson glared at him, not bothering to hold back his growl as he spoke in a low voice. “I didn’t come here to be talked to like this.”
Ash folded his arms across his chest. “Then you shouldn’t have come here at all.”
“Yeah, I’ve figured that much out. I thought maybe we could talk things out like men and clear the air between us, put an end to all this ridiculous fighting with the press acting as ringleaders to both of us, but it looks like I was wrong. Maybe when you’re ready to man-up, you can come find me and we’ll try talking again.”
“Man-up! You did not just say that to me!”
Ash walked two quick steps toward Jackson, but was forced to a short stop as Jeremy hopped up and stood between them.
“I think you both need to cool it,” Jeremy said, and turned to look at Jackson. “And with how this is going, it might be better if you leave.”
Jackson dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgment. “I think so, too. I’m sorry things took this turn.” He looked at Ash. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” He glanced over the others. “Hope you have a good set.”
He looked again to Ash, and at seeing the hardness in his gaze, he turned away and jogged down the steps, closing the bus’s door once outside. He strode quickly away, but as thoughts of what happened filled his mind, his pace slowed.
That would go down as one of his biggest screw-ups of all time. He should’ve known something like that would happen the instant he and Ash met in person. With all the tension that’d built between them through the media, it wasn’t as if he expected them to embrace like long lost friends. Still, he hadn’t quite expected that much of a blowup.
He lifted a hand to his chest, rubbing over his heart. What he expected even less was how he felt about it. The hurt at Ash’s reaction to him hit with so much intensity and went so deep. Why did Ash have to be like that? All he wanted from him was…was what? What did he want from Ash? Why had he really wanted to talk to him?
Jackson shook his head. The answer to those questions wasn’t something he wanted to face, and with how things turned out, it didn’t look like he’d ever have to.
CHAPTER 3
His plate of untouched pizza forgotten on the table, Ash stared out the tour bus’s window, not noticing anything beyond. He vaguely heard the bus door open, but didn’t bother looking to see who’d come on.
Standing with his hands on his hips, Jeremy exhaled a loud sigh. “You were sitting like that two hours ago when we left. If you were going to do nothing but stare at the trailer next door, you should’ve come with us to say hi to everyone.”
“I’m not in the mood to say hi,” Ash mumbled.
“Yeah, I know, because you’re pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
Jeremy went to him and sat on the couch. “If you’re this upset about it, why don’t you go find him? I saw his trailer. I can tell you where it’s at.”
Ash snapped his head toward him, giving him a glare. “I have zero desire to talk to him again.”
“I think you have a little more than that. And, I think you need to talk to him. You acted like a total dick to him.”
Disbelief in his tone, Ash said, “And he didn’t act like one toward me?”
“I’m not saying he didn’t. He said some harsh things, too. But you escalated it by blowing up at him right at the start. How many times have I told you,
sometimes you gotta play things cool? I know you and him have pissed at each other for a long time, but even you got to admit, what he did coming onto our bus, into your territory, to try and talk things out, that took some balls.”
Ash took a deep breath and sighed as he exhaled. “I know. It’s one of the reasons I feel so shitty about what happened. And you know, I can’t even figure out why I went at him like that. I mean, yeah, there’s all the media bullshit, but he came here waving a white flag and I shit all over it. That’s not who I am.”
Jeremy rested a hand on Ash’s knee. “I know that. No doubt your temper gets the better of you sometimes, but you usually have a reason for it. But it was probably all the past anger and resentment. Maybe it just all burst out when you saw him because it was the first time you had a chance to let loose on him in person.”
“Yeah,” Ash said, his voice soft. “But that’s not what I wanted to happen. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I found out he was going to be here too, trying to figure out what I’d say to him if I got the chance. I really decided I’d apologize for starting all this crap to begin with.”
“And you still can.” Jeremy grinned at him. “But now you have to apologize twice. Once for starting things and again for using his white flag to wipe your ass.”
Ash laughed. “Yeah. I guess I’ve got all kinds of manning up to do, don’t I?”
“Just a little. And he’s still here. I saw him chilling outside his trailer on my way back.”
One of Ash’s eyebrows arched as a look of suspicion came over him. “You’re being a little too helpful about this.”
“What else are good friends for?”
Ash stayed silent, Jeremy’s answer making him even more suspicious.
Wearing a grin, Jeremy stood up and stretched. “So, we’re heading back to the hotel. You sticking around for a little while longer?”
“I guess. But your shitty little grin is making me think you’re up to something.”
Jeremy waved him off. “You’re too paranoid. Just go talk to Country and do your manning up. His trailer is in the row in front of where we’re parked. Turn left and it’s about five down. You’ll see his sign.” He started toward the door. “We’ll catch you later. We’re probably going to hang at the hotel bar for a while.”
“Alright.”
Ash stayed in place for a few moments more, weighing whether he really wanted to go talk to Jackson. He wanted to see him again, that was a given, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to face Jackson’s reaction to him. He knew it wasn’t going to be good. Still, if Jackson had the balls to come talk to him in the first place, he should show his own by going to him this time.
His decision made, Ash hopped up and left the bus. The hot day had faded into a warm night, but the high humidity continued to linger. He followed Jeremy’s directions, cutting between trailers. The area was quiet, many artists having left for their hotels or to hit the Chicago clubs. He saw the outside lights lit on a trailer up ahead, and figured it had to be Jackson’s. Laughing voices floated near him, and as he neared, he realized why Jeremy had been smirking. He’d been setup.
Jackson sat outside the trailer with the guys who played in his band. He might be a solo artist, but he still had regular musicians who joined him in the studio and on stage. Along with the bass player, drummer, and guitarist, were two other popular country music stars who were going to be performing, Clint Murray and Elizabeth Harlan. He didn’t know the names of Jackson’s band members. Like with so many solo artists, the people who played for them didn’t always get as much spotlight as what members of an “official” band did. Either way, now he was the one walking into Jackson’s territory with Jackson surrounded by his allies.
Ash took a deep breath and started toward the group. Jackson wasn’t the only one who could flaunt his balls.
His strides slowed to a stop again as everyone burst out laughing. Not out of intimidation, but because his ears picked up a sound so deep and rich, he wanted to savor it; Jackson’s laugh. Out of all the laughing voices mixed together, he was able to pick Jackson’s voice out.
Wearing a bright smile and still chuckling, Jackson glanced up, his gaze meeting Ash’s. His laughter slowed and his smile faded. Seeming to pick up the shift in his mood, the others followed his gaze, and Ash became all too aware he was now the focus of everyone’s attention. He stood motionless, not sure if he should take the last few steps to join everyone, or just walk by the group as if he hadn’t intended to stop to begin with. It was totally messed up. He was used to being the focus of attention for thousands of people at a time, but here with a gang of six, he didn’t know what the hell to do with himself.
Jackson broke their gaze and leaned over the side of his chair to a cooler. He pulled out a bottle of beer and looked to Ash, extending the bottle toward him.
Ash stared at the invitation, but only for a few quick heartbeats before he moved forward. He stopped in front of Jackson, wrapping his fingers around the bottle neck as he looked into Jackson’s eyes. “Thanks.”
Jackson nodded once. “No problem. It’s too hot a night to not have a cold beer.”
The guitarist slapped Jackson on the arm. “It’s also too hot to be drinking outside when there’s air conditioned bars not even five minutes away, and with better scenery than a parking lot. Let’s get out of here.”
Jackson’s gaze flicked toward Ash before he turned to his guitarist. “I think I’m going to stick around for a little while longer. I’m not in the mood for a bar. You guys go on ahead.”
The drummer stared at Ash while he spoke to Jackson. “I think we better stay, too.”
Ash looked at each of them, noticing the hard, cold expressions they all wore.
Jackson sat back in his chair, letting out a huff. “If you’re staying because of him, you better be doing it because you want to get to know him. But if it’s for any other reasons, there’s no point in sticking around. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
Ash stood in complete shock. Jackson was defending him. After all their harsh words, Jackson was basically telling his band members he trusted him enough to be alone with him. Ash lowered his gaze. More than once he’d felt like an ass in his life, but never as big of one as he did now.
The guitarist stood, still eyeing Ash warily. “If you say so. We’ll catch you in the morning then unless you want to join us later.”
“If I do, I’ll text you to find you,” Jackson said.
The three band members walked past Ash. He flashed a bright smile, making eye contact with each of them as they passed by, doing his best to mock their sour expressions. He might feel like an ass for talking to Jackson the way he did earlier, but these guys had nothing to do with that.
Jackson motioned to the vacated chair next to him. “Have a seat, Ash.”
Ash felt his heartbeat pick up at Jackson saying his name. Jackson had such a warm tone to his voice, and even with having heard it so many times when Jackson sang or spoke in interviews, in person there was something different about it. Ash smiled his thanks and took the chair next to him.
Elizabeth stretched across Jackson, offering her hand to Ash. “It’s nice to meet you, Ash. I have to admit, I’m a huge fan of yours.” She threw a grin at Jackson. “Even with all the bickering you two do.”
Ash took Elizabeth’s hand in his, smiling at her. With her wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and charming smile, the term “Southern beauty” came to his mind about her. “Thanks. I have to admit I’ve rocked out to your music, too. You’ve got a beautiful voice and I’m a sucker for your love songs.”
Elizabeth laid her other hand over his. “What a sweetie, you are. Thank you, honey.” She glanced at Jackson. “Isn’t he sweet?”
A slight smirk quirked up one corner of Jackson’s lips. “I’m not sure I’d go quite that far.”
Ash glanced at him, seeing the humor in Jackson’s expression and eyes.
Elizabeth released Ash’s hand, giving Jackson a backhanded sl
ap on the chest in reprimand. “Be nice.”
Clint shook his head at them. “You two act like an old married couple.”
“Oh, we do not,” Elizabeth said.
“I wasn’t talking about you and him. I was talking about him and him.” Clint waved his hand between Ash and Jackson. “Always bickering at each other, and now look at you, settling down like nothing happened.”
Jackson nodded his head slowly, seeming lost for a response.
Ash took a sip of his beer to appear unable to answer.
Uncomfortable silence fell over everyone.
Ash lowered his beer. He glanced to his left, to his right, up at the sky. Well, how damn awkward was this? He didn’t have the first clue what to say, especially after that comment.
Elizabeth finally broke the silence. “So, Ash, I always wanted to ask you, is Ash your real name?”
Ash contemplated standing up and hugging her for trying to ease the tension. Thinking that’d probably seem odd, he gave her a smile instead. “Sort of. It’s Ashton, but people have always called me Ash for short, and when I started playing in bands, I thought it sounded more rock star, so I rolled with it for my stage name.”
“Well I think Ashton is a pretty name.”
“Exactly. That’s why I go by Ash. Rock stars aren’t supposed to have pretty names.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Now, I think if a rock star wants to have a pretty name, he should be able to. I like that your band name plays on it.”
“Yeah, Jeremy, my guitar player, actually came up with our name when we first hooked up.”
“How did you guys meet?” Elizabeth asked. “I know from the musicians who’ve played for me, it can be so hard finding the right chemistry with folks.”
Ash reclined in the chair, draping one arm over the back to get comfortable. “It took me a long time before I found my boys. I grew up in L.A., and I got into playing music in high school. Well, I had played guitar before that, but it wasn’t until high school that I started singing, and even then, my first time wasn’t exactly my choice. I was in a band with some guys at school and there was a Battle of Bands going on down at the beach, so we thought we’d enter.
Don't Read in the Closet volume one Page 25