by Bella Andre
She nearly forgot to keep an eye on the eggs, she was so stunned by how nice his comments were, and how good they made her feel. A change for the better. Last night when she'd walked into the venue, she'd felt she would never fit into this world, that she was kidding herself to think she could ever really be in the music business. But between Drew's amazing show and the lovely things he'd just said, maybe she wasn't too far off base, after all.
She plated their eggs just as their toast dinged in the mini toaster oven attached to the counter.
"Thanks, this looks great," he said as he picked up his fork. "I've never shared a bus with a woman before. Never thought about how you'd need to lock yourself in the bathroom to get dressed in the morning. Are you sure you won't take the back bedroom?"
"Then I'd just be walking in on you naked out here." The words came out before she realized it. Ugh. And just when she'd started to feel so comfortable with him. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm just fine sleeping out here and I'll try to remember to bring my underwear in with me next time."
I'll try to remember to bring my underwear in with me next time? Double ugh.
He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "You forgot your..."
She felt her face go hot again and shoveled some eggs into her mouth so that she would only have to nod.
"Well," he said slowly, his voice sounding a little rougher all of a sudden, "I'll try to make sure you've got on more than a towel before I come out."
She took a sip of coffee to try to wash down her way-too-big bite of eggs. "Great! Thanks!" Every time she got nervous, she sounded like a chirpy bird. Which, she supposed, was better than talking about her underwear.
Drew finally began to eat, and before she knew it, he'd polished off his entire plate. Just as she always did with her father, she pushed her unfinished portion over to him, which he immediately shoveled up.
Finally, he pushed both plates away. "You're a great cook, Ashley. I haven't had eggs that good since--"
His words suddenly fell away, and she knew why, knew that he was thinking of his mother. The night before, he'd gotten so choked up when he'd been talking about writing "One More Time" the day his mother passed away, and Ashley's heart had broken for him. She wanted to reach out to him, wanted to find a way--any way at all--to make him feel better. But before she could say or do anything, there was a knock on the door.
"It's Max." Drew got up to let him in.
"Good morning, you two." Max looked impossibly chipper for such an early hour. "Mmm, eggs. Smells good."
"Sit and I'll make you a plate," Ashley said, already spooning what was left in the pan onto a clean plate.
Max's eyes practically rolled back in his head as he ate. "You are quite a woman, Miss Ashley," he said once he'd swallowed. "Isn't she, Drew?"
"She definitely is."
Ashley hopped up to wash the dishes, hoping neither of them would notice the way she was blushing. But before she could so much as rub a sponge over the first plate, Drew was taking it from her. "You cooked, I'll clean."
"But you have to get ready for--"
"Thank you for the best breakfast I've had in a year." He smiled at her, and her breath caught in her throat at being so close to him again. "Now let go of the plate."
She'd forgotten all about the plate, and that Max was right there watching her get all flustered and drooly over the rock star who was a million miles beyond her.
Chapter Four
When they stepped out of the tour bus a short while later, Ashley was stunned to realize they were already on the Las Vegas Strip. "I guess I knew it would be lit up even at five in the morning, but it's still kind of a shock. And surprisingly pretty, too." She sounded like a goony tourist, but she couldn't help it. She'd never been particularly into flash or neon, but Las Vegas made it work somehow.
"See that couple?" Drew pointed to a man in a dark suit and a woman in a glittering dress. "They've likely been playing the high-stakes tables all night. And those guys over there?" He pointed to half a dozen college guys looking more than a little worse for wear. "I'm guessing it's someone's twenty-first birthday."
She pointed at a gray-haired woman. "What about her?"
"Card shark."
She laughed, realizing she'd laughed more with Drew already than she had with any of the guys she'd ever dated. "Strangely, something tells me you're probably right." Her first sixty seconds in Vegas were already full of so much color and life and wildness, and she was shocked to realize she loved it. Her mother had frequently needed to "get away" to Las Vegas. Now Ashley thought she might understand why...even as she wished she hadn't always turned down her mother's offers of a spa and show weekend here.
"The station is ready for you to head up now," Max said.
"Is your band already upstairs?" Ashley asked as the three of them headed into a skyscraper situated between over-the-top casinos. She'd interned in enough office buildings to feel totally comfortable in this environment--the gray carpet, the elevators that smelled like they'd just been wiped down with cleanser, the early morning staff clutching their cups of coffee for dear life.
"I usually do a stripped-down version of my songs for radio," Drew replied. "A couple of the guys from the band are already waiting inside for us, and everyone else gets to sleep in."
Drew's bass player and drummer were waiting in the hall just outside the studio. "Sammy, Jonas, this is Ashley Emmit. Remember I told you guys she's going to be joining us to do some research on the music business?"
Just like Max, they had plenty of tattoos and a few piercings. And they both also said it was nice to meet one of Drew's friends. The way they said friends seemed a little strange, almost as though they thought she and Drew were actually more than friends. But that was so preposterous, she quickly shook off the thought.
Before she'd come here yesterday, her father had warned her approximately a million times not to let herself be swept up by a rock 'n' roll man, a la Elton John's "Tiny Dancer." But she'd known he didn't have anything to be worried about. There was no way she could be the kind of girl any of these rocker types were interested in.
Just then, however, Drew put his hand on hers to draw her arm out of range of the sharp edge of a bongo drum, and her brain flashed back to what she'd seen in his eyes when he'd been holding her naked and wet in his arms. A heat and a desire that she still couldn't quite believe had been real...even if he seemed to be looking at her in the same way right that instant.
Two disk jockeys ushered them all in, and she grabbed a seat in the very back to stay out of everyone's way. The next half hour was a whirlwind of rapid-fire questions that Drew answered with charm and wit, both from the DJs and from the women who called in, desperate to speak with him for thirty seconds.
Finally, he opened up his guitar case, pulled out an acoustic guitar, and asked, "You guys want to hear a couple of songs?"
Ashley had been taking notes like crazy the whole time. She'd listened to plenty of musicians' interviews on the radio, but she'd never realized just how much work they were putting into it. From a casual listener's perspective, it might be the first time you'd ever hear them tell their story about how they got started, or what they were planning for their show that night in town. But for them, she suddenly realized, it was the same thing on repeat every day. How many times had Drew given these answers? And yet, he didn't sound the least bit tired or bored.
She could tell by the power of his songs that Drew hadn't gotten into the music business for fame like many other musicians likely had. Instead, fame and endless rounds of promotion were probably just things he had to deal with in order to pursue his chosen career.
Already, she felt that she had a hundred times more insight into just how much record labels needed to support their musicians. First, they could--
Drew's voice rang out through the microphone hanging from the ceiling, and her well-ordered thoughts fled. Every time he started playing and singing, she stopped being the rational person she'd
always been, and her emotions, her passions, bubbled up and up and up, until it was taking literally everything she had just to keep from alternately cheering and sobbing, depending on the song.
By the time he finished his final song, she felt wrung out. Utterly depleted by the emotional roller coaster he'd just taken her on with his music, and this was only their first visit of many on the schedule Max had handed her.
And maybe if she hadn't been looking so carefully, she wouldn't have noticed that although Drew continued to give one hundred percent of himself, he looked a little worn out, too. Although, she thought with a frown, worn out wasn't really the right word for it. No, the expression on his face was the same one he'd had when he thought there had been some problems with his show the night before. Everything she'd heard him play had been flawless. But obviously, he wasn't entirely happy with it.
Was it simply that he was getting tired of playing the same hit songs over and over? Or was there something else going on with him and his music?
Of course, not only did she not know him well enough to ask such prying questions, but for the next three hours there wasn't so much as one private moment between them. Not when she was pretty sure he'd visited every radio station in Nevada.
"Is it always like this? So busy?"
"If it's going well, it is." But he was frowning as he looked at her. "If you're feeling tired..."
"I'm great." And she was, because she could listen to Drew's songs a million times and never get tired of them. In fact, the more she heard them, the deeper they went. So deep that she felt more exposed and raw than she ever had before, from nothing more than being in the same room with Drew and his band while they played some of the most amazing songs she'd ever heard. But she didn't want to sound like a drooling, crazy fangirl, so she simply said, "I'm sure I'll get used to sleeping on the bus soon. Besides, all I'm doing is taking notes."
He looked down at her notebook and iPad. "Any chance you're going to let me see them?"
Instinctively, she clutched her tablet and notebook to her chest. Most of her notes were either details of the interviews and radio stations, or brainstorming about how things could be improved for Drew and his band. But a few notes had slipped in along the way about how sexy he was as he sang, and how he drove his fans wild by joking with them over the phone lines when they called in. All in the name of science, of course, but she knew he might not see it that way. Instead, he might think she had a crush on him...and then things would get even weirder on the bus than she'd already managed to make them.
"It's okay, you don't have to let me see anything." His hand on her arm froze her in place. "I wouldn't let anyone look through my unfinished lyrics either."
Just then, her phone buzzed with the ring tone she'd given her father. "It's my dad."
"Why don't you take it while we get set up for our last radio spot? James will stay out here with you."
"I'll be okay in the hall by myself."
But James simply said, "I'll just be down at the end of the hall so you can talk in private," then moved to a spot where she could have privacy but still be in his line of sight.
Drew nodded a silent thanks to his bodyguard, then turned back to her. "Say hi to the professor for me."
It wasn't until Drew disappeared behind the radio station's door that she realized she hadn't taken a full breath all morning. Not since the moment she'd gone flying into Drew's chest...and then immediately dropped her towel. Finally, there was some space between them. A thicker wall than the paper-thin one on the bus.
Her father's call had gone to voice mail, so she quickly redialed him.
"Ashley, how are you, honey?"
"I'm great." She had left her father a message the previous night to let him know she'd gotten to the venue okay, but she'd known he wouldn't feel any calmer about her being gone until he actually spoke to her.
"How's Drew?"
"Really busy doing radio interviews right now. I had no idea his job was this hard."
"Hard?" Her father laughed. "How can partying with groupies be hard?"
"Maybe it's like that for some people," she said carefully, even though there had been plenty of out-of-control groupies yesterday, "but Drew is a consummate professional. And he's really nice, too."
"How nice?"
"Dad." She knew how much he loved her, but he could be a little overprotective sometimes. "He's a perfect gentleman, as you already know firsthand."
"Actually, as I recall, he seemed to have plenty of girls hanging off his arms when he was taking my classes."
She was sure her father was telling the truth. And yet, since she would never be one of Drew's girls, it didn't matter, did it?
"I know you think I'm worrying too much about you," her father continued, "but I just can't stand the thought of anything bad happening to you while you're on tour with Drew."
"I love you, too, Dad." She smiled as she spoke. "And nothing bad is going to happen to me. I'm smart and careful, just the way you taught me to be." She deliberately tried not to think about the way Drew had been holding her naked body tightly to his this morning on the bus, just in case her father had suddenly developed X-ray vision.
"You're the smartest person I know, honey, but you've also inherited your mother's looks." She didn't bother to disagree with him, even though they both knew she'd never be stunningly beautiful like her exotic-looking mother. "And I know how guys think," her father added. "You shouldn't trust a word out of their mouths."
She couldn't figure out why her father thought she was such a target for men all of a sudden. But she knew better than to debate the issue with him when he was one of the overseeing professors of the campus debate team, so she simply said, "I have to get going now, but I'll tell Drew you said hello."
Since she didn't want to accidentally walk into the studio in the middle of one of Drew's performances, after hanging up she quickly checked her email and then walked over to where James had been pretending he wasn't listening to her conversation.
Doing her research well meant not only learning what Drew did on tour, but also learning from his crew. She'd only just realized how important a bodyguard was. "How long have you been with Drew?"
"Two years. I worked for a real piece of work right before him. Can't name any names, but let's just say I'd be happy never to hear the song 'Love Robot' again."
Her eyes widened before she could stop them. James had been Cal Sextin's bodyguard? She'd never been a huge fan of his music, but he was a big star with a string of hits that stretched back at least a decade.
"When I couldn't take it anymore, I asked around, and Nicola Sullivan--you probably know her by her stage name, Nico--who I'd done some work for here and there, gave me a reference for Drew. I owe her."
"Wow, it sounds like you've worked with tons of famous people. How long have you been a bodyguard?"
"Twenty-five years."
"I'm sure you must have a ton of incredible stories."
"I sure do."
She was riveted, despite knowing she'd moved way beyond research and was solely in the personal interest zone. "Tell me one, James. About Drew."
He didn't look particularly surprised by her request. "One night about a year ago, Drew was feeling a little...well...antsy is probably the best word for it. Just tired of being on the bus and under pressure, you know."
"I'm sure that must happen a lot," she mused aloud. After only one night in the really nice tour bus, she could imagine how small it could come to feel. "Especially when it's hard even to do things like walk into an airport without calling security first."
"I should have been there at the airport with you guys," James said with a frown. "Anyway, we were out in the middle of the Australian Outback, and he decided to get a horse and go riding for the day. I can't ride, so I didn't go with him. And none of the other guys could keep up. When he didn't show up at the hotel five hours later, we knew something was up. No cell reception out there, of course, so we got in a Jeep and headed out
into the wild, praying nothing had happened to him. I was picturing broken bones and snakes and rabid red kangaroos gnawing at his flesh."
Even though she knew Drew had obviously gotten back safe and sound, she was still riveted. "What happened, James? Where was he?"
"Turned out he'd been spotted by a couple of teenage girls on their horses doing their chores. They knew exactly who he was, of course."
"Even in the middle of the Outback, he couldn't escape his fame."
"Nope. Although I think there were plenty of other things he was trying to escape that day," James added in a low tone, and Ashley finally realized the timing worked out to be right around when Drew's mother had passed away. "He'd been helping the girls and the rest of their siblings fix fences all day. Fit right in, just like he'd been born and raised working on an Outback ranch. Took some ugly threats to drag him back to town that night so he could play his show. It's the only time he's ever gone on late. And it was also the last time I ever let him out of my sight on a horse."
Just then Drew walked out of the radio station, before she had enough time to put her heart back together from the story she'd just heard. She knew what it was like to want to ride off on a horse into the desert and never come back. She'd felt that way so many times when her parents were splitting up. But riding away hadn't saved her.
Only Drew's music had been able to do that.
Chapter Five
The expression on Ashley's face when Drew stepped out of the radio station--a cross between heartbreak and hope--hit him square in the chest. He knew that feeling. Hell, sometimes he felt like he'd invented it, loving so hard and hurting so much at exactly the same time.
"Ashley?" He quickly moved to her side and didn't think before putting his hand beneath her chin to tip her beautiful face up to his. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, so fast that she blurred in front of him for a second. But when she licked her lips, he lost his focus on everything but how much he wanted to kiss her. More than he'd ever wanted anything.
"Nothing." She put a smile on her lips that didn't reach her eyes. "James was just telling me some stories for my research."