by Bella Andre
It was the smallest, quickest caress in the world, one that no one else could have spotted in the darkness behind the thick curtain that separated the backstage area from the bright stage lights. And just as she couldn't help but want to read meaning into the note he'd left her while she was sleeping, now she couldn't stop herself from doing the exact same thing as the skin on her palm continued to tingle even after he walked on stage to begin his set.
*
Most nights Drew talked to the audience between songs. Tonight, he had only the words from his songs. Fortunately, his band was adept at following his nonverbal cues by now and kept up with his pace no problem.
He wasn't planning to play "One More Time," honestly just didn't feel like he could bear the weight of it tonight. Especially not after the way the label execs had pretty much given him a polite golf clap after he'd played it in the office today.
But it turned out that telling himself he wouldn't play the song wasn't much different from telling himself not to keep looking over at Ashley in the wings throughout the show. She didn't smile when he looked, didn't give him a thumbs-up either. She simply watched him play with those big, beautiful eyes.
And she cared.
She'd shown him again and again just how much emotion, how much passion she was capable of. Which was exactly why he'd had to shut her down halfway through the morning during his meetings at the label. Because just as his new song affected him too deeply, so did she. And when a guy was barely holding himself together...
Before he realized it, his fingers were playing the first chords of "One More Time" and his band was stepping back. The crowd went crazy...but every word he sang, every note was for Ashley.
He left the stage after that song, just walked off with his guitar, and stopped in front of her. There were tears running down her cheeks, and he reached out to brush them away the way he'd so badly wanted to during the meeting that morning. "I've got to head back to the meet-and-greet room. But do you want to get out of here after that? Head down to the beach, just you and me?"
When she nodded, he almost felt like he could breathe again.
He knew Ansel and the rest of the Chief Records employees who had come to the show tonight would be expecting him to party with them, but he couldn't do it. Not tonight. "Max, can you tell the label reps to go ahead without me and that I'll swing by if there's a chance I can make it later? And whatever you do, don't mention anything to them about a beach."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Max said with a smile. "In fact, I'll let them know you've got a busy schedule tomorrow and are probably going to need your rest after the nonstop day you had in their offices."
Drew wanted to take Ashley's hand as they headed down the hall to the meet-and-greet rooms, wanted so much more than just that slight brush of his fingertips against hers before he'd walked on stage. But he knew that one touch wouldn't be enough, just as the earlier one hadn't been. If he held her hand, he'd want to hold all of her.
"Drew," she said in a soft voice, "about what happened this morning at the label--"
"I can't talk about that now."
She flinched, and he cursed aloud. Damn it, he hadn't meant for it to come out so sharply. He just didn't have much control right now. Not on any front. Not when everything inside his head, his heart, felt like it was spinning out.
He stopped walking and reached out to take her hands. "I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole."
"You're not."
"I am." He nearly cursed again. "See, I'm doing it again." He made himself pause to try to get his shit at least a little bit together before saying, "I've just got to make it through the meet and greet. And then we can get out of here, get away from all this, and talk about what happened this morning or anything else you need to talk about."
But even as he said it, he knew he was the one who needed to talk. To confess. And to face up to all the things he'd been trying so damned hard to hide from for so long. For longer even than before his mother had become so sick.
"That sounds great."
He should have let go of her hands then. Should have headed into the first meet-and-greet room where everyone was waiting for him. But just as he'd known would happen, he couldn't bring himself to let go of her. "You don't have to do this, Ash."
She didn't ask what he meant. Instead, she answered in a way that told him she didn't need to. "You were there for me when I needed you. Now I want to be here for you."
He wanted to ask what she meant--how had he ever been there for her? She was the one who had held him while he cried over his mother in the desert.
But before he could, James opened the door to the room full of fans, and the young girls inside saw him and started jumping up and down and calling out his name.
Chapter Ten
An hour and a half later, Drew paid the taxi driver and stepped out with Ashley's hand in his. They hadn't spoken during the drive, but just being with her was enough. He'd made sure to put on his baseball cap before leaving the venue and had asked the driver to take them to a deserted stretch of beach that his friend Nicola Harding--Nicola Sullivan now--had told him about the last time he'd seen her. She'd scoped out lots of great places to get away while playing shows in big cities. Evidently, he wasn't the only one who needed to get off the bus and away from the crowds from time to time.
"I've always loved the sound of the ocean," Ashley said after taking a deep breath of the sea-salt air. "The way it's never the same beat, never the same rhythm, and yet I can always count on it to make everything better."
"Just like I can count on you." Still holding her hand, he stopped their progress across the sand. "Thank you--not just for what you said in Robert's office this morning, but for noticing the way fans have been reacting to the song in the first place."
"They all really do love it. And maybe one day," she added with a tiny quirk of her lips, "I'll figure out how to listen to it without crying the entire time."
He reached up to brush the thumb of his free hand over her cheek, right where her tears had been after the show. "Is it bad that I'll take any excuse to touch you?"
In the slight ebb of the ocean tide, he heard her breath hitch. "It doesn't feel bad."
Jesus, the urge to kiss her tore at his insides, it was so strong. But that wasn't why they were here. They were here because after this morning, he owed her the truth.
"Everyone says I'm living the dream," he began, then shook his head. "I hate to sound like I'm complaining."
She put her hand on his arm. "That's not what it sounds like."
"I know how lucky I am."
"Yes, you're lucky. But luck wouldn't get you where you are without talent and hard work. I've seen how much you do every day. It's not like you're lounging on the beach between shows." The little smile she gave him was so beautiful as she added, "Well, most of the time, anyway."
Maybe it was her smile, maybe it was the moonlight shining over her like a halo, or maybe it was just that he'd kept it all bottled up too long, but before he could stop himself, he was saying, "This morning, at my label, it was like you saw through the act I've been putting on for everyone. That's why I shut down on you afterward. Because I knew I was finally going to face the truth. I kept trying to tell myself that maybe I wouldn't have to face it if I just pushed you away instead. But you're the last person I ever want to push away."
She held his gaze, as fiercely strong and passionate as she'd been that morning with the executives. "What's the truth, Drew?"
His mom would have asked him that same question, just like that. No pauses. No trying to make it all easier.
"The truth is that I've always loved writing and playing songs. I never had to think about it, never had to try, it was just always there. I knew the sound I wanted to make and I made it. And it was great when I found out other people liked it, too. Liked it enough to come out and see me and download my demos online. When the label wanted to sign me, it was just another thing I didn't have to think about. But maybe I should have."
Though she was frowning, she waited for him to continue his thought. He liked that about her, how she knew when to push and when to pause. "It's great most of the time, but sometimes...sometimes it's like being in a cage. A really nice one, with plush leather seating and a built-in coffee maker." He was glad when she smiled at that, and it made it easier to continue. "Back when my mom was alive, she would ask me, 'Are you happy?'"
"Are you?"
"Right now? Here with you?" He stroked her cheek again. "Yes. I'm happy."
When the pad of his thumb brushed over her lower lip, she closed her eyes for a moment, and he could feel the ragged breath she inhaled. But a moment later she was opening her eyes and asking, "What about tonight, on stage? Were you happy then?"
"I tried to be. I wanted to be." He pulled away, hating that he didn't know how to put words to it. "Those songs, my songs--like I said, I never had to think about them. They were just there and they felt right. But now... Now they don't feel totally right anymore."
"Only 'One More Time' does, doesn't it?"
"It shouldn't. It doesn't sound like the rest of my songs. Doesn't sound like anything the label wants. Doesn't sound like anything on the radio right now. Doesn't sound like what I'm sure Smith Sullivan wants me to do for his movie soundtrack. It's why I haven't written anything else." His hands were fisted now at his sides in frustration. In anger at himself for being so screwed up. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore."
"Yes, you do. The one new song you've written is amazing. Yes, you break our hearts, but you're breaking them in the best possible way." She squeezed his hand tightly. "Do you want to know what I hear in your song?"
He was almost afraid to say yes, but he was done hiding out from the truth. At least this one. Because he knew he still needed to fight the incredible temptation to kiss her. "Tell me, Ash. I need to know what you hear."
"I hear the kid whose demos I downloaded from the Internet when I was fifteen. I hear the rock star whose music has taken over the world. And then, blended in perfectly with everything else, I hear the son who learned every folk song on the planet for his mother. Because she loved those songs and he loved her." He felt as though she was looking straight into his soul as she said, "Somewhere along the way, you fell in love with those songs, too, didn't you? With that sound?"
It was one of those rare moments when things suddenly became so clear you wondered why you hadn't seen it before.
"You're right. All those songs--I thought I was just learning them for her. But I wasn't, not after the first couple of days. I was like an addict, searching for the songs they only performed live in concert, the cuts that never made the albums."
"How could anyone walk away from a song like CSNY's 'Suite: Judy Blue Eyes' or Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah' and not be moved?" Ashley asked. "Not be changed? What those songs did for you once you started learning them for your mom is what your songs did for me when I was a teenager."
"Before we went into the meet-and-greet room tonight, Ash, you said I was there for you when you needed me. Is that what you meant? That my songs helped you?"
She was silent for a long moment. "I've never talked with anyone about this. And I certainly never thought I'd be talking to you about it."
"I don't want our friendship just to go one way. I want to know you. Hell, I'm dying to know more about you." When she still didn't say anything, and he could read the silent Why? in her eyes, he told her, "I feel a connection with you. Don't you feel it, too?"
"I do, but..."
"You just told me what you hear in my song. Do you want to know what I see whenever I'm with you?" His question clearly made her nervous, and when she dropped her gaze, he put his hand on her chin and tipped her face back up to his. "Beauty. Incredible beauty. I'm not going to lie and say that wasn't what struck me first. My jaw hit the floor the first time I set eyes on you."
"It did?"
"Of course it did. Every guy who looks at you has the same reaction."
"No," she said in a serious voice. "They don't. I would have noticed if they did."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Of course I'm sure. My mother is the beautiful one. I'm nothing like her, not in looks or personality."
He raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe you just haven't looked in enough mirrors lately. Maybe you're still seeing the cute girl you were and not the gorgeous woman you've become. Don't look so upset about it, Ash. It's not a bad thing to be beautiful."
"But I'm the brain. Not the beauty."
"Actually, you're both."
She looked hugely shocked. It wasn't too different from his own shock at realizing that the music he was hearing in his head was no longer just rock, but a blend of rock and folk.
Looked like all the things that had once seemed so black and white to both of them, weren't anymore.
"The first time we met, I was still so busy being knocked over by your beauty that when you started speaking, if my mind hadn't already been blown, it would have been then."
"Wait." Her frown was so deep now that he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to smooth it with his fingers. "How could hearing my voice have blown your mind?"
"Because I heard a melody in your voice that's haunted me ever since. I've tried to play it with my guitar, and on the piano, but I can't replicate the sound. Every time you speak, I hear that melody, Ash."
"You do?"
"Always. That's why I asked you to read my mother's letter. Because I needed to finally hear it put to music. Sometimes," he added with a little grin, "I want to ask you to talk just so that I can hear that melody again."
He was so damned glad when her lips tipped up at the corners. "I could read the phone book for you sometime, if you want."
He laughed, loving being with her. Everything that should have been so hard was just easier with her. And better. So much better. Which was why he needed her to know something else. "And then when I got to know you, I found out you're not just one of the smartest people I've ever met. I also learned that your brains don't come at the expense of your heart. You've got both, Ash, and that's rare."
He knew her well enough after three days to guess at what she was thinking: Could she trust him enough to answer his earlier question about how he'd been there for her when she'd needed him?
Finally, she said, "You already know what a fan of your music I've been since I was a teenager. But the truth is..." She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. "Your songs saved me, Drew. I don't know what I would have done without them when my parents were splitting up and it felt like I was tearing in two, like no matter what I did or what I chose, I was letting someone down. I couldn't talk to anyone about what was going on, but even though you didn't know me, listening to your songs made me feel like you understood what I was going through. And that maybe everything was going to be okay in the end, if I didn't give up hope. You were my refuge, Drew. You and your music."
"Ash." He had to put his arms around her. Had to hold her. Had to try to make her feel better in any way he could. "I'm sorry they did that to you. Your parents should have known better than to tear at you like that when they were the ones having problems."
"I chose my dad." Her confession was barely louder than a whisper. "Mom wanted me to leave with her when I was fifteen, wanted us to move to Miami and start over. She promised me that it would be fun and exciting. But I'm not like her. I love her, but I've never been like her. I've never been fun and exciting like she is."
He knew he shouldn't interrupt her story, but he needed her to know, "Yes, you are. Beautiful. Passionate. Fun. Exciting. Brainy. Those are all words that fit you perfectly, Ash. Those and so many others that I've yet to discover, but I will."
She didn't say anything for several moments, simply stared at him as if she was trying to process what he'd just told her. "How can you see me so differently than everyone else does?"
"How can you not see yourself the way I do?"
It wasn't enough just to hold her. He'd known it would
n't be, but he couldn't leave her standing there hurting. She'd needed his songs as a teenager, and now she needed him.
"Ash, I know we said we wouldn't--"
But he never even got the words out to ask her if they could break the rules, just this once, because the next thing he knew, her hands were on his jaw.
And she was kissing him.
Chapter Eleven
Drew Morrison's mouth was a miracle.
Ashley had been kissed before, of course, but she'd never made the first move. A part of her could still hardly believe that Drew's stubble was scratching against her palms and that his arms were around her waist as she pressed her lips to his.
She'd never expected anyone to say such wonderful things about her. And, honestly, she wasn't sure if she'd ever really believe they were all true. But knowing even one person on the planet felt that way about her had given her a boldness that she'd never known was there. Yet another adjective to add to the others: Beautiful. Passionate. Fun. Exciting. Brainy. Colorful. Bold.
He'd said he didn't know who he was anymore, but tonight, Ashley was the one who felt entirely different. All because of the man she was kissing.
For several long moments, their kiss remained sweet. Soft. Gentle. The barest brush of lips.
And then, on a groan--she honestly wasn't sure who broke first--their kiss shifted from gentle and sweet to pure, unfettered passion. She was overflowing with need, with desire, with the urge to give Drew everything she was. And, oh, how perfectly he took what she had to give, his tongue sliding against hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip.
His hands curved down over her hips, and he lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around him. He growled her name against her mouth as he lowered them both to the sand.
She'd never felt like this before, had never known such heat. Or such hunger. Hunger that seemed to come from a boundless well inside of her that had been deeply hidden for far too long. A well that only Drew knew how to tap into.
He rained kisses across her cheeks, and when she arched her neck, she shivered at the shockingly delicious sensation of his teeth scraping across her sensitive skin. She threaded her hands into his hair as his tongue licked out over her collarbone, and then lower, over the upper swell of her breasts.