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Needing to break the tension and the silence, I ask, “So, how about some pizza?”
She looks up at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I smile at her.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
THAT WAS BY far one of the worst panic attacks I’ve had in years. I am so embarrassed and humiliated that I don’t even know where to begin or what to say. My heart is still pounding and even though the car is warm, and I’m wearing Ash’s jacket, I’m still shaking.
I don’t know what I would have done if Ash hadn’t been there. I can’t even remember what I used to do before him. Granted, I haven’t had this many in years—it’s like something has reopened inside me and I can’t shake the constant fear. Maybe I should go back into therapy. Clearly whatever I’ve been doing isn’t working anymore.
I can’t believe that guy grabbed me the way he did. Any given day, I can handle people touching my hands, arms, shoulders, whatnot—but he came up from behind when I wasn’t expecting it, and I just couldn’t escape the darkness from taking over.
When Ash’s voice breaks the silence suggesting pizza, I can’t help but to look up at his expression. Only Ash would think about something so completely off base to distract me from what’s currently running through my mind.
“I mean, I didn’t really eat much tonight and after watching you perform, I’m certain you must have worked yourself up an appetite. So, I was just thinking that we could throw on some comfortable clothes, eat some pizza, and watch a movie.” I really don’t know what to say to him. Not only is he the kindest person I have ever met, he knows how to handle me perfectly.
“I think that sounds great, but I’ll need to borrow some clothes.” I smooth the dress down with my free hand. It really is such a pretty dress.
He smirks at me—one dimple making an appearance—his eyes giving away his train of thought. Heat creeps up my neck and over my cheeks.
“There’s no borrowing; you can have whatever you want. And for the record, you look absolutely beautiful tonight. Different,” he trails off, appraising me. “But . . . wow. The hair, the makeup, the dress, I was speechless when I saw you. Although, I don’t like the eyes.”
A blush creeps into my cheeks and I reach across for one suspender, pulling it so it snaps back. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself, and the eyes, well, it’s all part of it. Curly hair and blue eyes is me. And I’ve discovered that on any regular day they make me look ‘like that famous girl,’ but not really. Not enough to stop people.”
He doesn’t say anything back. Nothing needs to be said. He understands.
Lifting my hand to his mouth, he gently brushes a kiss across the brace where my wrist was broken. The tenderness makes my eyes burn and my heart swell.
As the car continues to drive, we fall into a comfortable silence, and it makes me appreciate him even more. His fingers play with the brace directly over my tattoo. Pulling the Velcro, he loosens it, slides it off, and stares down at my wrist. Streetlights flicker in and out of the backseat as the car moves down the road, giving him enough light to see it clearly.
Lifting my arm, he runs his finger across the second key and the fifth. The “B” and the “E.”
His eyes find mine, and I know he remembers our conversation on the lake.
“Be.” His voice is a whisper, but the word lingers between us, and a magnetic charge fills the air.
His eyes drop to my mouth and tiny flutters sweep through my stomach. Gently pulling on my arm, he closes the distance between us, and his warm lips find mine. This kiss isn’t urgent or consuming, it’s compassionate and healing. It could be seconds or minutes that pass, I’m not sure, but once the fingers of his other hand wrap around my head and into my hair, I surrender.
Deepening the kiss, he thoroughly explores my mouth, breaking free every so often to place random kisses across my face. I feel cherished and loved, and I know when it comes to him, I never need to be afraid.
“Sir, we’re here,” a deep voice comes from the front seat.
“Thank you, Ryan,” Ash says, pulling away from me.
Taking my hand, we climb out of the town car and walk into a large, high-rise condo building.
“Is this where you live?” I ask him looking around at the posh interior.
“Yep. Clay and I were still living in North Carolina when the label first offered us a deal. We had driven into town to sign the paperwork, they handed each of us a signing bonus, and when we walked out the front door, the first thing we saw was this building. Headquarters to the label is a few blocks that way.” He points behind us. “Some of it was still under construction, so they were selling the units at a preconstruction discount. We were going to need a place to live and saw this as a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Invest the money and get a home. Clay’s condo is next door to mine, so we both have the same view. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve talked about cutting a doorway between the two units, making it one large condo.”
“Evening, sir.” The security guard greets Ash as we walk by and head to the elevators.
“John,” he nods his head and smiles in return.
“Don’t you worry about people coming in? Staking out and waiting for you?”
He pushes the call button for the elevator and we wait.
“No, Clay and I pay for the security. We increased the monitoring of the lobby level, the stairwell, and our floor. And once we became more well-known, the builders were very accommodating in changing out the elevator to one that required an access key. Us living in one of their buildings being great publicity for them and all.”
