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I spent the weekend with the great Will Ashton—a legend in country music.
Will Ashton, as in lead singer of the Blue Horizons.
No wonder he didn’t tell me who he was.
Suddenly, I feel faint.
I NEVER IN a million years expected to see Ava tonight. The Ava that I know is quiet, reserved, not a large crowd type of person. She has crazy, white blonde, curly hair, her nose is pierced, her beautiful skin is covered in freckles, her eyes are blue, and she wears rock band t-shirts. But looking at her standing in front of me now, I’m starting to think that I don’t know her at all.
I’ll be damned.
This woman before me looks like an angel, and seeing her like this, I was right when I thought there was something familiar about her. I’ve seen her numerous times on television, at different awards ceremonies, and in various venues over the last couple of years. I thought maybe I was recognizing her on a deeper level, like a down-in-my-soul level, but now I don’t know.
For a split second my mind begins to doubt Mr. Lang and that this couldn’t possibly be her, but as my eyes lock onto hers, I see a mutually shocked expression in them. I know this look; I’ve seen it before. That look reaches right into my stomach and squeezes.
Her hair is straight and so long it falls almost to the arch in her lower back. The nose piercing is removed, her makeup is done so her skin looks flawless, and her eyes are green.Green. She’s wearing a strapless, pale pink, sparkly gown that is fitted to her waist and flows in layer after layer to the ground. The skin across her shoulders and upper chest look polished and has some type of shimmery sheen on it. Her makeup is soft, her lips are glossy, she has in earrings that dangle diamonds, and she looks more exquisite and elegant than anything I have ever seen. She takes my breath away, even in this nearly unrecognizable state.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Ava reaches out her hand for me to shake and instinctively I pull my hand from my pocket and my fingers slide in between hers. She’s shaking. She’s nervous. I hate that. Unable to not have her closer, I pull her forward to brush a greeting kiss against her cheek. The familiar scent of strawberries wafts by and calms me with the comfort that the girl I met is in there buried under all this. As my lips connect with her cheek, she tilts her head slightly into me, laying her face against mine. My eyes close at the contact and I let out a breath. Mr. Lang’s voice breaks the moment as he continues talking, not realizing that neither one of us is paying him a whit of attention.
“Ms. Layne,” says Mr. Lang.
Ava pulls back and blinks but she never breaks eye contact with me.
“Mona here told me that wandering through eager fans isn’t something you usually do, so thank you for taking the time to come out here and for allowing me to introduce you to our supporters, especially this one. This venue isn’t overly large, so if you feel up to mingling after your performance, everyone here will be kind to you, I assure you.”
He’s so proud of himself and this event, as he should be, but there is no way she’s going to walk through this room, and if I get my way, she will be leaving with me.
Neither of us acknowledges him and from the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Lang’s head bounce back and forth between the two of us. I can’t take my eyes off of her and can’t get my mouth open to say anything. The woman standing next to Ava shifts her weight—this must be Mona, and she has to be the same Mona she called from my car. She must be Ava’s manager.
Someone steps up next to me to join our little circle and I feel an arm wrap around mine.Juliet. Ava’s eyes glance over to her and then flick down at the same time Juliet slides her hand down my arm and lightly grasps my hand. Ava looks back at me one more time, her face paling. The expression in her eyes has never been clearer—she is angry and hurt, and the walls that had gradually come down over the last couple of weeks are slammed back in place.
Shit!
I should have been honest with her about Juliet. The problem is I wasn’t being honest with myself. How do I explain my relationship with Juliet to her? She never would’ve understood, and if I’d said something sooner, she never would’ve let me get to know her the way that I have. She feels betrayed and I did this to her. I feel like a complete and utter ass.
She returns her gaze back to Mr. Lang and squares off her perfect shoulders. “Thank you so much again for allowing us to perform this evening. Believe me when I say, I’m glad I came this evening for more reasons than one. After the show, we have plans to head back to New York and wish we could stay to mingle; what you have put together here tonight is truly marvelous.” Her eyes skip back to Juliet before they land on me. “Mr. Ashton, it was a pleasure to meet you.” The tiniest bit of sarcasm is interlaced between her words, and it’s definitely meant for me. Her cheeks are flushed, and with one last look, she dismisses me and turns towards her manager.
“Mona, we’re ready to go get started.” Mona’s eyes widen as she takes in Ava’s flushed and stiff appearance.
“Of course. If you’ll please excuse us . . .” She and Ava both turn to smile at Mr. Lang one more time before the group turns to walk away.
“Avery, wait.” Desperation in my voice hangs in the air over all of us, and wow, did it feel weird to call her by a different name.
Everyone stops, and as she faces me, her eyes are glassy as they regard me. Disappointed hope shines back at me and my teeth clench together. There is no way I’m letting her walk away like this. Without taking my eyes off of her, I lean over and whisper in Juliet’s ear. Juliet tenses, looks up at me questioningly, but then takes a step back releasing me.
“Before you go, dance with me.” I put my glass on the table, hold my hand out to her, and she looks down at it. More people around us have stopped to watch our exchange and I don’t care. Her eyes slide up my arm, over my chest, and settle on mine. She has to see the pleading in them, because I am—I’m desperately pleading that she not leave me, not yet.
Slowly she lifts and places her hand in mine.
Heat races up my arm as I tighten my fingers around hers. Pulling her away from our little crowd, I hear a gasp come from behind us as I walk her to the dance floor. There are quite a few people surrounding us, but as recognition takes over, the space widens. Whatever, let them watch; let the whole world watch. I want them all to see us together.
“Ash, what are you doing?” Her breath floats across the skin on my neck as I pull her in close. Her free hand slides underneath my jacket and around to my back. My hand settles on her hip and my eyes drift shut as I lean my head down to rest next to hers.
“I saw your face, Ava. I couldn’t let you walk away without saying something,” I whisper in her ear.
“Nothing needs to be said; I understand.” There’s sadness and resolve in her words.
I pull our joined hands between us, and see that the cast is gone. In its place is a neutral-colored brace. I carefully kiss her fingers, and rest them against my chest. “No, I don’t think you do.” The air crackles around us as I breathe her in: her hair, her skin, her presence.
