Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Skye soared with Ash somewhere above the Eastern seaboard, flying toward the northern border of the United States.
Ash reclined in the leather seat opposite her, his face scrunched in concentration, his fingers flying over the keypad of his phone.
He bit at his lower lip as he typed, and when his eyes pinched together, a deep groove would appear between his brows.
His attention never wavered from the screen, and hers never moved from his face.
Silence filled the cabin, wrapping around them in a comforting embrace. This easy peace was a natural thing flowing between them, but beneath the quiet, tension swirled.
“A penny for your thoughts?” His voice bathed her in its multitoned notes. He peeked up from his phone, catching her staring at him…again.
With a jerk of her chin, she indicated the closed cockpit door. “They’re giving us privacy.”
His smirk returned. “Yeah, maybe next time, we’ll take advantage of it.” Oh, the promise of sex was ever on his breath.
“What are you working on?”
“I wanted to get that song down before I forgot it.” He leaned back. “It’s getting late. You hungry?”
It was almost nine, and they hadn’t eaten since Chuck’s Bar and Grill.
“I still have those granola bars.” Although that didn’t sound appetizing.
He arched a brow. “They have food on these things—and alcohol. You want a drink?” At her nod, he unbuckled. “Come on. Let’s raid the cupboards.”
The next ten minutes netted them various fruits and cheeses, caviar, a selection of sliced meat, and a well-stocked bar of wine, beer, and scotch worthy of the rich and famous. She went for wine while he settled on soda.
Ash pulled out a tray of chocolate strawberries from somewhere, and her mouth watered.
“Where did you find those?”
“You missed the dessert fridge,” he said.
She grabbed a strawberry and popped it into her mouth. “Yum.”
As she enjoyed the decadence of the sweet berry chocolate at twenty-five thousand feet, his body language shifted—a subtle alteration, but there nonetheless.
He chewed at his lower lip. He started to ask a question, stopped, pulled at his earlobe, and then rubbed the back of his neck.
Strange gestures she hadn’t noticed before.
There it was again, him nibbling at his lower lip.
“Is something wrong?”
“Something’s been bugging me, and I’m not sure how to bring it up.”
“Ask me anything.”
He yanked on his ear. “I’m not sure I should.”
“Is it about Spencer?”
She hadn’t thought about Spencer all day. Ash was too much fun. How could she ever go back to Spencer, knowing a man like Ash might be waiting for her? Giving back the ring appealed to her more and more.
Settling—that was what she’d been doing with Spencer. And didn’t she deserve so much more?
The past had taken her parents and destroyed her chance to grow up in a loving home. Perhaps she’d been too focused on taking back the past. It was time to give back the ring and pave a new future.
“Well, yeah, I guess we should talk about him,” Ash said.
She bit her lower lip, hesitant. “But that’s not what you wanted to ask, is it?”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Then, what?”
“Do you really not know who I am?” He kicked his ankle across his knee and leaned his elbow on the armrest.
He’d placed particular emphasis on the word really, which made her neck itch. Why would he think she should know him?
His finger traced the cut Spencer had put under his eye. The split in his lip was almost healed. Even now, the ghost of Spencer invaded their privacy.
She gave a shrug. “Should I?”
His expression pinched, and he shook his head. “It’s just…well, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who didn’t.”
“Okay, now, you’re worrying me. Are you a criminal or something?
” She smiled, feeling awkward about teasing him because his brows shot up at that comment.
Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his knee.
Her expression softened. “Did you go to my high school or something? You’re not Ash Hoorelbeck, the guy with the braces and headgear from shop class who used to shoot spit-wads at me?
’Cause, if you are, you’ve really changed… ”
He laughed. “No. But I’m ready to kick that guy’s ass.”
She smiled. “So, are you a drug dealer?”
His eyebrows shot up again.
“Criminal? Stalker? What?” She poked her finger at him, confused. “What does it matter? You chased me. You kissed me. If you’ve forgotten, I was the one running from you. And you’re the one who stalked me the next day, buying all those hot cocoas. Who does that?”
He shrugged. “Me, evidently.”
“Well, you bullied me into bringing you on this trip,” she teased.
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t use bully, but yeah, I was persistent.” His fingers unlocked his cell phone, swiped, and tapped the screen. He handed it to her. “Tell me if this looks familiar.”
The sigil of a band filled the screen. It was a guitar with fiery wings, and to the side, a grouping of the band was barely discernible, their bodies cast in shadows but with spotlights hitting their faces.
Humoring him, she squinted. They did look familiar. Right—the coffee shop, laughing and lounging. Their names were scrawled at the bottom of the screen—Blaze, Bash, Bent, Spike, and Noodles.
Nervousness simmered in his emerald gaze, and his breath pulsed in and out.
Why did panic line the edges of his eyes?
Her finger glided over the faces of the men of Angel Fire.
Luminous green eyes stared out of the screen. Their front man, the embattled lead singer named Blaze.
Holy shit!
Her gaze skipped to the guitar stowed in the seat beside them. His baby. His songwriting and that voice?
A flutter tickled her stomach. Maybe she needed to pay more attention when Forest droned on about his favorite bands.
This changed everything.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
His fingers pressed against his forehead.
“When you picked out that T-shirt, I thought you were teasing. But then you acted so clueless about who I was. It wasn’t until you paid for the shirt that I thought maybe you really didn’t know.
Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been around anyone who’s treated me like a regular guy? Women don’t act like that around me.”
“I had no idea.” She shook her head, stunned by the revelation.
Examining the screen, she compared the man sitting in front of her to the rock star named Blaze. There was no denying the truth, but the name didn’t fit the man she’d come to know. She handed back the cell phone and pressed a hand to quell the queasiness brewing in her belly.
“You’re Blaze then?”
He nodded. “In the flesh.”
“Guess I’m one of the top ten clueless people in the world.”
Forest was going to have a good laugh over this.
All the signs had been there. The sunglasses and ball cap obsession made sense.
While obnoxious, Ash had been using them as a disguise.
His use of cash instead of credit fit, too.
Had he been avoiding leaving a trail for the paparazzi to follow?
At least she understood his guitar obsession and songwriting.
And, while she couldn’t believe she’d missed it, she wasn’t a total idiot. Ash’s voice—Blaze’s voice—sounded different in person than it did in the band’s songs, probably because he didn’t have the rest of the band backing him up. Blaze was a rock legend, which meant Ash was no starving musician.
She didn’t know how these things worked. What was the proper etiquette for traveling with a rock star?
And then she laughed. If you were one clueless Skye Summers, it meant splitting all costs straight down the middle.
Frankly, she didn’t care. His money meant nothing, as she had more than she had ever wanted or would ever need.
And his fame only strengthened what she’d already accepted in her heart.
There was no confusion as to their future.
He was a distraction, and it seemed that she was the same for him.
Eventually, real life would catch up to them.
She had a career in medicine, and the music industry would demand the return of their golden child.
There was only one direction for their relationship to go, even if she desired more.
It was probably for the best that she had taken sex out of the equation.
She was content to live the fantasy as it played out, only soured a little now with the knowledge that there was no future between them.
He shifted in his seat.
“So, if you’re Angel Fire’s front man, why were we buying clothes at a thrift store? Too cheap for Walmart? Target?”
A smile crept across his face, and his shoulders relaxed. Some of the tension in the cabin disappeared. “It was next to the gas station, and no one was in it.”
“Maintaining a low profile?” She clucked her tongue. “Explains the ugly glasses. You have no idea how much I hate those things.”
“You and me both.” He reached over and grabbed her hands. “You really didn’t know?”
“Nope.” Her lips popped crisply on the P.
“When we were driving to the mountains, you kept talking about Angel Fire and the way I sing. I about lost it.” His thumbs stroked the backs of her hands.
She tried to remember what she’d said exactly, something about a sinful voice. And here came the flush that would color her cheeks a deep crimson. How was she going to live this down?
“Well, to be honest, my brother’s a huge fan. I was spouting off stuff he would say to keep the conversation flowing. I was nervous to be alone with you.” She couldn’t help the corny line spilling from her lips. “Guess I’m just not that into you.”
“Bullshit!” He leaped out of his seat and knelt before her. Gently, he cupped her cheeks. “You’re very much into me.”
“I’m into Ash. Not sure about Blaze,” she teased.
His dark hair hung down over his face, shading the verdant green of his eyes. A fire burned there. He was going to kiss her, too, and if that happened…well, her eyes flicked to the closed door between them and the cockpit.