Chapter 5
Chapter Five
ASHER
I should have slept on the sofa.
This is the first coherent thought I have when my eyelids flutter open, and I see a spatter of chestnut hair across my chest.
The second is somewhat less honorable as my eyes drift down the length of Mercury’s sleeping form. And it’s most definitely not the kind of thing one thinks about a family member.
Christ.
I need to get out of this bed.
And I need to get this woman out of Scotland.
I turn my body toward the edge of the bed. The traitorous old mattress groans loudly, and I freeze instantly. For some reason, the thought of getting caught sneaking out of this bed feels wrong, and I can’t quite figure out why.
It’s not like I haven’t done it before.
Could it have something to do with that massive hard-on you’ve got there?
Fucking hell.
I wait a second to see if she wakes up, and when she doesn’t, I start moving again. The bed groans once more, but this time I’m not so lucky. An arm swings over and locks across my torso. Mercury nuzzles her head into my chest and sighs deeply.
I feel deeply conflicted.
As we’ve already established, this is Hendrix’s sister and my manager’s daughter. We are the last two people who should be cuddling in a bed together.
So why does she look so damn content?
Who exactly does she think she’s cuddling with in her sleep?
Does she have a boyfriend? I’ve never thought to ask Hen. Looking down at Mercury now, I realize I don’t know much about her beyond her musical talent and random facts I’ve heard from her brothers and father.
Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having some company here for a while. I especially wouldn’t mind if it were her. Although we’ve only chatted a few times, I enjoyed every minute of it. Despite coming off a wee bit awkward at first, she’s actually quite brilliant and witty.
Fucking gorgeous too.
But I fear what she might do to my resolve if she remains.
I made my decision to leave LA. Hasty as it was, it was still the right choice. No good can come to my friends and bandmates if I stay.
It will just be one scandal after another.
The paparazzi will never stop trying to uncover dirt about my personal life, no matter if it’s true or not.
I tried stepping back from the spotlight.
I hid away, stopped attending events, and refused interviews.
But it didn’t matter. It only made them more ravenous, which is why my publicist turned on me.
And every time something like this happens, it hurts the band.
We’ve taken enough hits over the last few years.
How much more can we take before Hen’s health deteriorates or Evans’s sobriety is tested?
I can’t be the reason that happens.
So I’ve taken myself out of the equation.
The problem is, I don’t have a clue what to do with myself now. But until I figure that out, I plan to hide out here. Even though staying at this ragged old cottage annoys the hell out of my parents, they’ve allowed it and haven’t said a word to the press about my whereabouts.
Suddenly, there is a commotion outside. A car door slams shut.
“My lord!” I hear Mac exclaim, his voice just a bit louder than usual. A warning, maybe? “Perhaps you can come back later, after he’s had breakfast and prepared for the day.”
God, it really is a warning. He probably checked in with the night guard and was told I brought back company last night, and he’s jumped to the same conclusion Mercury assumed they would.
And now my father is about to walk in, and there’s nowhere to go—nowhere to hide.
The door bursts open.
“Asher!” he hollers.
Mercury jerks awake just as my father takes in the scene before him. He doesn’t seem surprised, but he shakes his head, disappointment marring his face.
It seems Cormac wasn’t the only person the guard informed of my overnight guest.
“Father,” I simply say.
“When Nicholson told me you brought someone onto the grounds, I told him he must be mistaken,” he snaps, stepping into the room.
He regards the crude table with a sneer, as if its very presence offends him.
He’s dressed in simple gray slacks and a navy sweater.
At some point while I was away, he stopped coloring his hair, and the natural silver took over, making him look paler than usual.
“My son would never take such a risk to his safety and security for a quick lay from the village.”
“She’s not a quick lay,” I snap back, wincing as I hear Mercury’s sharp inhale at my father’s cruel words. “That’s not what this is. She’s—”
“I’m his girlfriend.”
My head jerks to the side. Am I hearing things, or did she just say…
“You’re his…girlfriend?” My father tilts his head, looks utterly unconvinced as his gaze slowly and methodically sweeps over her.
“Yes,” she calmly replies, although I swear I can feel her hand trembling next to mine under the blanket. I reach out and cover it with mine. “We’ve managed to keep our relationship out of the press for this long. Do you really think I’d ruin that by risking his safety?”
A smug grin spreads across Mac’s face as my father struggles to come up with a reply.
Even I’m halfway convinced by her steadfast conviction, which is why I should really put a stop to this and clear things up before they get out of control.
But when my father looks at me with that condescending expression I loathe so much, I can’t help but say, “Is there anything else you need? Or will you leave us to enjoy our breakfast now?”
It’s probably a little rude, but he did barge in here at seven in the morning, expecting to catch me naked in bed.
His eyes narrow, and I realize I’ve gone too far. “Yes, actually.” Fuck. “Bring your girlfriend to dinner tonight. Your mother and I would love to meet her in a more…” His gaze drifts over her faded hoodie and messy hair. His nose scrunches in displeasure. “Appropriate setting.”
“I’m sure she would love to, but Mercury actually has to—”
“We’ll be there,” Mercury answers. What the fuck?
“Wonderful.” He feigns enthusiasm. “You remember what time, don’t you, Asher?”
Nothing ever changes here. “How could I forget?”
He gives us both a once-over. “And don’t forget the dress code.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I’ve been home for a month and avoided every invite, request, and demand my parents threw at me. Less than twelve hours after her arrival, Mercury and I are joining the family for dinner.
As a couple, no less.
Fucking hell.
After my father’s departure, Cormac makes himself scarce, leaving breakfast—for two—from the kitchen and promising to return later in the afternoon with lunch.
The old man doesn’t miss a thing.
He knows just as well as I do that Mercury isn’t my girlfriend. He’s been with me every day for the past month. If I had someone special in my life, he would know.
But he’s also perceptive enough to realize Mercury isn’t just a random woman from the village. Her accent alone would have given that away, but I saw him notice the bar logo on her shirt.
He’s paid attention to my other life over the years. He knows who the Creeds are. He understands how important Lance and his family have been to me over the years.
Merc and I sit down at the table. It’s so small that I have to skip the trays and carry everything by hand.
“This is…” Mercury’s eyes widen as she takes it all in. There are the staples—eggs and sausage, toast, and jam. But there is also fruit and yogurt, orange scones, and fresh chocolate croissants.
“A lot?”
“Yeah.”
“Mac doesn’t know what you like,” I say, a bit of color creeping up my neck when I see her scoop up a bit of cream with her finger and lick it off. “So he brought a bit of everything. He left off the black pudding, it seems.”
She laughs. “I appreciate that.” I watch as she starts to fill her plate with fruit, hesitating a moment before she grabs a scone. “Mac is your…private valet?” The way she says private valet is comical. It’s as if she’s saying something in a foreign language for the first time.
“Yes,” I answer, trying not to grin. I go straight for the eggs and sausage. “Well, he used to be when I was young. Now he works at the main house. I guess he’s on loan for the duration of my stay.”
“And how long might that be?” she inquires as I start to pour tea for us both.
I hesitate. “I honestly don’t know. I didn’t come here with a plan. I just knew it was somewhere I could hide.”
She takes a sip of her tea and sits back in her chair.
I try not to notice the way her shorts have ridden up on her thigh, or how good it felt to have those legs pressed against me this morning.
“You weren’t hiding yesterday. You were headed toward the village, in plain sight, where anyone could see you. Why?”
It isn’t an accusation. It’s merely a question.
“There’s a reason I left this place, Merc. There’s a reason I’m staying in the middle of the woods, in this shitty excuse for a cottage,” I tell her, feeling more vulnerable than I have in a long time. “It’s suffocating. They’re suffocating.”
“Really?” She feigns surprise. “But your father seemed so nice.”
My lip quirks before I turn serious again. “You didn’t have to do that—lie for me, that is. I appreciate it, and I’ll remember that sourpuss look on his face when you told him you were my girlfriend, but there’s no need for us to keep that charade going.”
I swear I see her flinch, but she hides it by asking, “What about tonight?”
“I’ll tell him you had to run back home for a family emergency or a work thing. You don’t need to sit through a boring family dinner for me, Merc.” I swallow, my throat suddenly thick. “Go home. Go be with your family.”
When her expression shifts, I know I’ve made a grave mistake.
“But I thought you were part of that family, Ash?”
Yep. Massive mistake.
“You are. I mean, I am. But I’m good. We’re good.” Since when did I start stumbling over my words like a pimple-faced teenager trying to score? Rolling Stone once called me the lyrical poet of our generation. And now I can barely string two words together?
A slow smile spreads across her face as she pops a grape into her mouth. “Good. Now, what time is dinner?”
Hendrix is going to fucking kill me.