He still wanted her just as much as he had last night. A hell of a lot more, actually. But tonight, he found himself reaching for his notebook, the one he used to write lyrics in. The one that used to be full of good ideas instead of the crap he’d been scribbling in it for the past year.
He pictured Ashley in the middle of the desert with the sun shining down on her hair and skin, lifting her face to the pleasure of it. He felt the warmth of her arms around him, the sweet pressure of her cheek against his chest. And for the first time in a really long time, he felt as though his heart was actually starting to beat again as he put pen to paper and began to write. None of it was any good, but he figured even wanting to write something again had to be a change for the better.
Chapter Eight
Los Angeles, California
Ashley had been to Los Angeles before. She’d even been in the Chief Records headquarters for an afternoon, during a summer course she’d taken on the music business at the University of Southern California between her junior and senior years of college.
But it was one thing to walk in as a college student dreaming of one day working for the biggest music label in the world...and it was another entirely to walk in with Drew Morrison.
It seemed like every single person in the building came out of offices and cubicles to say hello to him. To fawn over him. To compliment him. To see if he needed a soda or a snack or a bottle of beer or something stronger—anything at all. And by the time they made it to the corner office where Drew had a meeting set up with the head A&R guy who had discovered him and the president of the label, Drew had introduced her to everyone. He’d also made sure to tell them all how smart she was¸ and how happy he was to have her working with him on his tour.
Working with him? That was stretching things big-time, even if she’d had that one good idea about how to reorganize his meet-and-greet room after they’d been talking about wanting to—and not being able to—kiss each other.
She could still hardly believe the things he’d said to her and that she’d said back to him. The very last thing in the world she’d expected him to say was that he wanted to kiss her. Honestly, she was still stunned by it twelve hours later. Not just that, but that he’d wanted to kiss her from the first moment he’d set eyes on her.
Oh. My. God.
Ashley didn’t have much experience with the opposite sex. In high school, between the glasses and the braces—and the fact that she spent nearly all of her free time in the library reading with her headphones on—she hadn’t exactly been asked out on a lot of dates. And by not a lot, she meant none. No dates, no kisses, not even the senior prom.
College had been a little different. The braces had come off, and she’d switched over to contacts during the day, at least. She’d gone out on a few dates, made out with a few guys, even fooled around a little. She was still a virgin, of course, but at least she wasn’t totally untouched.Only, when it came to a man like Drew? She felt as pure as the driven snow.
But even crazier than what they’d said to each other last night was that the more they talked about not being able to kiss, the more desperately she wanted to do it.
Just one kiss.
Just so that she’d know if it was as good as she’d fantasized it would be for the past half-dozen years.
What would that hurt, really? Her father wouldn’t need to know about one teeny, tiny little kiss. And it wasn’t like she was going to end up dating Drew and become his rock ’n’ roll lady.
Besides, if anything, it would just relieve the attraction building up between her and Drew, right? You know, so that both of them could stop turning the kiss into something bigger than it needed to be.
The more she went over it in her head, the more sense it made. They should kiss. Just once. Just to get it out of their systems. Just so they could move on and be sensible again. Because surely that’s what would happen if they kissed. He’d realize he’d been building things up for no reason, and she’d remember that he was way out of her league. As far as a guy could be.
A large man in a dark suit with a booming voice broke her out of her thoughts. “Drew Morrison, live and in the flesh.”
“Robert.” Drew shook his hand. “It’s good to see you.”
Drew was as charming and friendly as always, but today he didn’t seem quite as full of his easy smiles as usual. This morning, as he’d devoured yet another plate of eggs and toast, he’d simply said, “I’ve got to go in and see my label. We’ll see if we can make you some good connections, okay?”
She’d been so worried about things being awkward between them when they woke up that even though he’d had the look of someone heading in for a dreaded dentist’s appointment, she hadn’t asked him what was wrong. Now, she wished she’d been able to shake off her own insecurities to check in with him.
In the desert, he’d said a couple of things about how his label hadn’t totally understood what he was doing with a few elements of his last album. But was there more than that going on?
“Drew, we’re so glad you could stop in today.” This second man was as thin as the other man was large. His suit was light gray and tapered down at the ankles so that his pants looked more like leggings than wool slacks. And he was either a lifelong smoker, or he’d spent too much time yelling in loud venues. She made a calculated guess that he was Drew’s A&R guy, the Chief Records employee responsible for discovering his talent and bringing him in to sign with the record label.