Well, he was just going to have to work like hell to figure out how to deal with it without losing her as a friend.
Since he didn't want her to look up and see him staring at her like some stalker-perv, he knocked on the door that led from his room at the back of the bus into the common area. "Can I come in?"
She slammed the screen shut on her computer, as if he'd caught her doing something she shouldn't. "Of course you can. It's your bus. You don't have to ask for permission to go where you want."
"Is your work going well?"
"I hope so. I've just been working to get my thoughts down and also trying to make sense of them."
He wanted to ask her if she could do the same for him, to try to make sense of the mess his mind had become. But since nearly all of his thoughts were about her, he couldn't. "Can we talk for a few minutes, Ash?"
"Sure." She didn't sound sure, though, as he slid into the booth across from her. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it, focused only on Ashley now.
He hated not talking to her. Hated trying to corral his feelings. No matter what else happened between them, he needed her to know one important thing. "I miss you."
Her breath hitched, and she bit down on her lip as she stared across the table at him. Her hazel eyes were so clear and beautiful that he swore he could see all the way down to her very soul as she admitted, "I miss you, too."
Relief washed over him in a huge wave. "I know things got weird after LA, but I don't want to lose your friendship."
"I don't want that either. It's just..."
"Before we kissed, remember I told you that whatever you need to say to me, I don't want you to be scared of saying it?" When she nodded, he reached for her hand. He simply couldn't stop himself from touching her. "Tell me what's going on. Tell me what you're feeling."
Her cheeks were already flushing. "I don't know how to be friends with you without wanting to be more, too. I thought maybe if I kept my distance, it would make the wanting go away."
"But it hasn't." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Because he felt exactly the same way.
"If anything, I only want you--"
"More," he finished for her.
They stared at each other, his hand still over hers, until, slowly, she turned her hand so that her palm faced his.
It was an electric moment. Just holding hands like this should have been innocent, but amazingly, just the slide of her palm over his felt as powerful as their kiss had been on the beach.
"I was so happy to hear that you were in the recording studio last night. How did it go?"
"It didn't." His gut twisted. "And since you've seen all the shows, I know you've seen the way I'm even screwing up there."
"Your shows have been great," she said, "but I know how much you've been wanting to write again."
"I couldn't write anything worth a damn last night, but I did think a lot about what you said, and what Smith and Valentina said, too. You're right that my influences have changed a ton from when I was a teenager making demos. And I think I'm okay with that. Even if people don't end up liking whatever I finally write as much as they like my old stuff."
"They will."
He smiled at her, her hand warm against his, her fingers long and pretty as they wrapped over his. "You're so sure, aren't you, Ash?"
"Only about you." Her cheeks flushed as she amended her sentence to, "I mean your music."
But he liked thinking that she'd meant it the first way. His mom had always been sure of him, and it had made it easy for him to be certain about things, too. In his pocket, his cell phone continued buzzing with incoming text messages, but he didn't want anything to come between him and Ashley. Not when they were finally talking again. Whoever was trying to reach him could wait.
"What about you?" he asked. "You were so deep in concentration just now. Are you working on your grad school application?"
"I started out trying to put together my thoughts about how major labels could work better with artists and the emerging digital industry for my application, but I keep veering."
"Veering where?"
She looked a little uncertain for a moment, before seeming to come to a decision. "Toward this." She slid her hand from his so that she could open up her computer.
At the same time that he was glad she trusted him enough to show him what she was working on, he hated that they weren't touching anymore. But when he looked at her screen, his eyebrows went up. "You're putting together a business plan for an indie, artist-run label?"
"I've learned so much this week with you, Drew--learned things I never could have from a book or case study or documentary. And the biggest thing of all that I've learned is that you not only know your music and what makes it special better than anyone else ever will, but you also understand your fans better than anyone else does. All I could think of as I sat in those meetings earlier this week at your label, and then during every interview and planning session you have with your crew, is how incredible it would be if you were running your own label. And when you said to Smith and Valentina that you were worried about not having a hit for them on the soundtrack and they said they didn't care about hits, only that your heart is behind the music, everything fell into place. What you're doing--it doesn't have to be about hits that radio stations have to approve before playing. You can put out whatever you want on the Internet in whatever format you want. Or you can just play songs live at shows and never play them the same way twice. Your fans love what you do so much that I know they're going to follow you wherever you are and love whatever songs you write. At least, they will as long as you love the songs you're writing."
Her eyes were shining with excitement and all of that incredible passion that made him fall even harder for her. He had quickly scanned the charts and documents on her computer, but even though it looked great on paper, he liked listening to her talk about it even more. God, how he loved hearing that melody in her voice that he'd missed so much during the past few days.
Because she was the most beautiful melody he'd ever heard.
"Tell me more, Ash."
"I know you wouldn't be able to do it all, not if you wanted to focus on creating and playing great music. You'd need a great staff, but if it were your label, you would be in charge of hiring the staff to run it. Just like you brought in all these great players for your tour, and Max and James. You're a great judge of character, and they'd be answering to you, rather than you feeling as though you have to answer to them the way you do with Robert and Ansel."
When she halted suddenly, he could fairly easily guess that she felt she'd just overstepped her bounds. But she hadn't. On the contrary, she had everything exactly right.
"That's just how I feel, Ash. Like I'm locked in a cage, one I've given Chief Records the key to. It's funny, actually--when I was signing with them, they wanted to do a multi-album deal, but even back then I couldn't do it. Not just because my brother Grant advised me that I'd be able to negotiate an even better deal for the second album if the first did well, but mostly because I couldn't stand the thought of wearing handcuffs that tight."
"You are the one who made yourself an indie success when you were a teenager," Ash told him. "The label has been lucky to have you for this album, and they'd be crazy lucky to get you for another. But I can't stop thinking about your brilliant entrepreneur brother and wondering if he might have any interest in partnering with you on something new."
"With Grant, anything's possible. Especially if he senses a challenge."
"He sounds a lot like you."
As he stared into Ashley's beautiful eyes, Drew's focus shifted from the music business to the woman he'd been obsessing about ever since he'd first seen her. He'd desired her from the start. But it hadn't taken long for him to need her, too. Her smile. Her laughter. Her brilliance. Her support.
And especially the way he felt when she was in his arms--as though he'd finally found the other half of his soul.
"Do you hav
e any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"
"Yes." The one word was barely more than a whisper. "Because I want to kiss you just as much."
He lightly stroked his fingers over the incredibly soft skin on the inside of her wrist, and the way she trembled at his touch made him crazy. Absolutely crazy for her in a way he'd never been crazy for anyone else.
"Ash, I swear I've been trying to keep from doing this..." But even as he said it, he was moving closer, needing to erase the space between them.
"So have I," she said as she leaned in toward him, too.
"What if we can't stop it, Ash?" He moved another inch closer so that he could see the way her pupils were dilating and her skin was flushing with heat. "What if we shouldn't stop it?"
When her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, Drew knew that nothing could stop him from kissing her. He reached out to tangle his hands in her hair, and she made a little humming sound of anticipation that heated him up even more as he lowered his mouth to hers.
He was just about to taste her, could feel her warm breath across his lips, when a loud knock sounded at the door.
"Drew," James called out, "you in there?"
Drew cursed under his breath, and Ashley let out what sounded like an extremely frustrated sigh. And as James let himself onto the bus, she grabbed her computer and slid out of the booth.
"Hey, Ashley," James said, "how's it going?"
"Good," she replied, but Drew could hear the way the four letters trembled slightly on her tongue. As if she was as twisted up over missing out on their kiss as he was.
"I've been texting you for fifteen minutes, Drew. We've got to get to the photo shoot before the photographer the label hired has a coronary."
The very last thing he was in the mood for today was posing for a bunch of pictures, even if the photographer was reputed to be one of the best in the world. But his mother had taught him not to take his career for granted--and not to waste anyone's time either--so he stuffed away his frustration as best he could. He slid out of the booth on the side opposite Ashley, who was standing by the table holding her laptop in front of her chest like a shield.
"Ready to go?"
For a moment, he worried she was considering going back to keeping her distance the way she had for the past few days. But, thank God, she nodded and gave him a small smile instead.
"Let's go."
* * *
Moment by moment, as Ashley watched Drew during his photo shoot, the heat built inside of her. And when the photographer--a woman who clearly wanted to have Drew for lunch and dinner--asked him to take his shirt off, Ashley actually started to worry that someone on set was going to slip on her drool.
The last week had been the biggest tease of her life, and she had finally hit the point of no return. She'd never been a sex-crazed person--at least, she hadn't thought so, not when she'd easily managed to hang on to her virginity for twenty-two years. But today the sound of Drew's laughter and the way his bare abs rippled sent every last hormone into overdrive. Especially after he'd told her how much he missed her, and then had been on the verge of kissing her again.
So when the photographer said, "You're looking amazing, Drew," for the millionth time and the woman's assistants chimed in to agree, Ashley knew it was long past time to deal with the heat inside of her in the hopes that she could function at least halfway normally again.
She got up out of her seat, intending to slip away. Everyone but James was taking the day off while Drew did this shoot, and though there were several people there from Drew's record label, they weren't paying any attention to her. Ashley tried not to run off the set, even had a conversation for a good fifteen minutes with the guy running the craft services table in the next room, but she couldn't remember ever feeling like this before, where she could only think of one thing: sex with Drew Morrison.
His hands on her.
His mouth on her.
His body moving over hers. Into hers.
Oh God...she was just making it worse, having these thoughts, letting herself spin off into fantasies again before she got back to the bus, where she could lock herself in and finally try to take the edge off her insane need.
Her hand shook as she typed in the code to unlock the bus's door. Jesus, she was panting, too. Crazy. This was crazy. Crazier than she'd ever been before.
With Max on a day off as well while they stayed overnight, the bus was completely empty and silent. Of all the things she'd expected to learn this summer, she'd never imagined that one of them would be how to sneak away to touch herself on a tour bus. But as she locked the bus door behind her, she was too far gone to care.
The curtain was pulled in front of her bunk--she tried to be extra neat in such close quarters. She yanked it back and threw herself on the small bed. She didn't even take the time to kick off her shoes before pulling her skirt up and slipping her hand against her heated, already damp skin.
It wasn't nearly as good as she imagined Drew's touch would be, but it was so much better than continuing to suffer with no touch at all, the way she'd been for the past week.
She still remembered how it had felt when he'd kissed her on the beach. The way his tongue had stroked over hers. The way his teeth had scraped her lower lip. The way his hands had gripped her hips to squeeze and pull her closer. So close that she'd easily been able to feel just how much he wanted her.
Ashley closed her eyes, and as she lay back on her pillow, letting her legs fall open even wider, she pretended he was with her in the bunk, kissing her again right now.
Would he say she was beautiful?
Would he take her shirt in his fist and rip it away so that he could kiss her breasts, too?
Or would he just keep kissing her while he slid his hand right where hers was, beneath the cotton, where she was aching for him?
She was right there on the edge, but she wasn't ready to stop yet, wasn't ready to go back to having to try so hard to be in control all the time. For a few more minutes, all she wanted was to enjoy the forbidden pleasure of indulging her naughty fantasies about Drew.
Chapter Seventeen
Holy hell...was this really happening?
Drew had ducked into his bedroom on the bus to grab his guitar for the next set of photos. He'd needed to get away from all those eyes on him for a few minutes, take a momentary break from all those expectations and people from the label telling him what they thought he wanted to hear. Saying how hot he looked. That he was going to smash sales records with his next album, whenever he finally got around to signing the contract and recording it. Telling him he was a superstar.
But he didn't care about any of that. Didn't need their praise. Didn't, frankly, care what any of them thought about him and his music. Only one set of eyes mattered today. Only one opinion.
Ashley's.
It figured, then, that out of everyone watching the shoot, she would be the only one he hadn't been able to read. Did she hate it? The flash? The props? The fact that the photographer had nearly sprayed his bare chest with oil? All the big-budget, borderline ridiculous things the label had convinced him were expected at this stage of his career?
Already, he'd come to respect Ashley's opinion a thousand times more than those of any of the Chief Records guys in suits. She knew the business as well as any of them--better, probably, because he'd never known anyone to read so much, not even his sister Olivia.
What Ashley innately understood that the guys from the label never would was what was behind the music. The heart and soul of a lyric, a melody, a rhythm, that drew ears to it. She could break a song down and analyze each piece, but she could also simply close her eyes and let the magic of it wash over, and through, her.
All through the photo shoot he'd been thinking about the ideas she'd shared with him this morning on the bus. Could he go indie? Could he put together his own company and do things his way?
But overarching even those huge career questions had been an even bigger one. Namely, how much lon
ger did he have to wait to kiss Ashley again? All week had been a series of near misses, and frustration was bubbling up inside of him as he grabbed his guitar, opened the bedroom door to head through the living room...
And realized he wasn't alone.
He smelled her before he heard her, the vanilla from the body wash she used in the shower instantly turning him on. He was on the verge of saying her name to let her know he was in the back of the bus when he heard what sounded like a moan.
A moan of pleasure.
A rash of jealous thoughts hit him first. Was she with someone else? Had she brought a guy back to the bus while he was doing his photo shoot?
Thoughts of anyone else touching her, kissing her, hearing her gasps of pleasure skewered him one after the other until he realized he couldn't actually hear anyone else.
Only Ashley and the sweet little sounds she was making from her bunk.
Sounds that were so damned good, he had to move closer, had to find out if one of his biggest fantasies could actually be coming true.
Night after night, as he'd gone back into his bedroom alone to try to take the edge off his need for her, he'd wondered if she was doing the same thing. But to be lucky enough to stumble onto the bus just as she was touching herself?
Jesus.
Just then, she gave another little moan, and Drew couldn't stop himself not only from moving closer...but also from putting his hand over his rock-hard erection.
He could hear her breathing now, the way it was speeding up as she came closer and closer to her climax. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Drew knew he should stay in the shadows, that he should let her finish getting off without realizing she had an audience. But he couldn't think straight anymore. Couldn't think beyond the desperate need to see Ashley when she took herself over the edge.
When he finally got close enough to see into her bunk, he couldn't believe his eyes. Not when the most erotic vision in the world lay only feet away.
She was lying on top of the sheets. Her skirt was up around her waist, and her hand was inside her panties. Her other hand had found its way up her blouse where he was almost positive she was playing with her breasts. Her hair had come part of the way out of the clip she wore to hold it back, and her skin was flushed with heat and arousal. Her mouth was wet, as if she'd been licking it while she lifted her hips up into her hand in what had to be the sexiest rhythm he'd ever heard.