Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
ASHER
For the next two days, Mercury and I manage to shut out the rest of the world and just exist in this little cottage. Mac brings food from the main house so we don’t go hungry, but other than that, we speak to no one but each other and do whatever we please.
For forty-eight hours, I forget about galas and titles. I forget about scandals and disappointed bandmates, and I get to know Mercury Creed.
We take long walks in the forest, and I show her all my favorite places, like the pond where I used to fish as a child and the tree where I carved my initials as a teen.
She tells me about the bands she’s worked with and all the crazy stories she has because of it.
She talks about her siblings, and I can’t help but notice how much love pours out of each word when she speaks about them.
We sit by the fire and read. She teases me about my “slutty little glasses,” asking if I’ve always worn them or if they’re needed because of my advanced age. I beg her to tell me what she’s reading that makes her blush so often.
She never does.
It’s nice. Comfortable. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in years.
“Hey,” Merc says tentatively over the top of her Kindle.
I meet her gaze over the top of my notebook. She’s sitting on the other side of the sofa, looking very cozy by the fire. “Hey.”
“What are you writing in there?” She points to it.
I was wondering when she would finally get the courage to ask me. Smiling, I look down at the frayed edges and soft leather. “What do you think I’m writing in here?”
Biting her bottom lip, she thinks it over. “A cookbook?”
“Yes.” I laugh. “You caught me. I’m leaving the life of rock and roll to pursue my baking career.”
“Knew it.” She grins, then abruptly asks, “Is it song lyrics?”
Nerves blossom in my gut. “Yes.”
Her gaze shifts to the tattered notebook. “Can I see it?”
Shit. I’ve never let anyone read anything in my notebook.
Yes. No. “Maybe.”
Her head tilts to the side, and she raises an eyebrow. “Maybe?”
I motioned to her Kindle. “Will you finally let me see whatever has you blushing so hard? We could do a little show-and-tell. You could read some of mine. I could read some of yours. All out loud, of course.”
Her eyes widen. “You know what? Never mind.”
A chuckle bursts free. “You sure?”
The tips of her ears turn red. She nods.
“Okay, but the offer still stands if you ever change your mind.”
She stuffs her Kindle under her leg. “Good to know.”
I take off my glasses and set them on the table beside the sofa. The room grows quiet again as we both stare at the crackling fire and listen to the soft drops of rain on the roof above.
“I have a request,” Mercury says, turning to face me. She nervously fiddles with the wristband of her hoodie. “Or maybe just a question?”
“Just ask.”
“Okay.” She nods, more to herself than anything. “Are we allowed to go anywhere? I mean, like, between events, can we leave the grounds?”
I hold back a grin. “We can do whatever we want, Merc. We’re adults.”
“Right, but won’t you be mauled by rabid women the second you step past that gate?”
“God, I hope they’re not rabid. That would be unfortunate.”
She playfully smacks me on the arm. “Be serious!”
“Okay, okay!” I raise my hands in surrender, chuckling. “Why do you want to leave the grounds so badly? Is there some sightseeing you want to fit in? I could have Mac arrange it for you if you’re worried my presence will cause a commotion.”
The nerves return instantly, and she glances back to fire before answering. “It’s not about sightseeing or even about leaving the grounds. It’s just…” She lets out a heavy exhale. “I want you to teach me how to have fun.”
Of all the things I thought she would say, I didn’t expect that.
“What do you mean?”
“I like order and organization. My entire life has revolved around it. My only hobby is reading, for god’s sake.
Getting on a plane and flying halfway across the world with just three days’ notice isn’t something I usually do.
Lying to an earl and pretending to be someone’s girlfriend?
Definitely not something I normally do.”
I start to apologize, but she raises her hand. “At first, I thought I’d hate it—the fear of the unknown. But there’s a sort of thrill in it I didn’t expect.” She pulls her knees to her chest. “You said my dad told you I was driven?”
I nod. “He’s always been proud of you.”
“I know,” she says solemnly. “And I’m happy to make him proud. It was never my sole purpose. I’ve always been driven by my own goals, but it makes me glad to know I’m contributing to the legacy he’s built.”
It’s not lost on me that our situations, though vastly different, are similar in some ways.
Her family legacy may not be centuries old, but it could still feel like a burden if it was something you felt pressured to carry.
Unlike my family, Lance would never force one of his children into the family business. For the Creeds, it’s always a choice.
I may have thought I walked away all those years ago, but I simply delayed the inevitable. For me, there never was an option. I was always going to become the Earl of Dunloch.
“I’ve been laser-focused on those goals for nearly my entire life.
I knew early on that I wanted to work in the music industry, and I never wanted anyone to think my career was handed to me because of who I was.
So in high school, I took AP classes and every extracurricular I could manage.
In college, I double majored and interned every summer. I never stopped.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being highly motivated.”
“I know,” she agrees. “And I’m proud of everything I’ve accomplished. I truly am. Turning on the radio and hearing songs I’ve helped produce is an amazing feeling, but I’m starting to realize how much I’ve missed along the way.”
“Like what?”
“Like friends,” she says softly. “I don’t have a single friend from college, Ash. And I was in a sorority.”
“Maybe that was your first problem.”
“That’s fair,” she agrees, but then follows it up with, “I’m sure not all sorority girls are bad. In fact, I’m sure some are lovely. But mine were just…awful.”
“So a couple of sorority girls are mean to you, and now you think you’re no fun?
” It comes out sharper than I meant. When her head dips, I add, “Sorry, I didn’t intend for that to sound harsh.
I guess I’m just having a hard time understanding, because to me, you are fun.
You’re funny and clever. You’re one of the least boring people I’ve met. ”
“That’s because before this, we hardly knew each other, and now we’re in this odd little bubble where we go to fancy dinner parties and galas.
No one looks boring in a six-thousand-dollar dress, Ash!
You’ve never met the real me, the one who orders takeout at my desk, even though it’s well past nine o’clock and I should have gone home hours ago.
You don’t know the girl who watches concerts on her computer because she’s too scared to go to a real concert. ”
“You went to mine,” I counter.
“Watching my brother’s band from the safety of backstage is hardly badass.”
“Did you wear headphones?” I know for a fact she didn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she was on the edge of that stage. I told myself it was because she was so into the music, but I know it wasn’t.
It was just her.
“What?” She’s momentarily distracted. “Of course not.”
“Hearing loss seems pretty bad ass to me.”
She stares at me for a moment, then laughter bubbles up her throat. “You’re an idiot.”
I’ll gladly be an idiot if it makes her smile.
“Look,” I begin, sliding my arm around the back of the sofa. “Early in my career, I was considered fun by most people’s standards. I partied. I drank. I slept around. Because that’s who I thought I needed to be to make it.”
I close my eyes, remembering those early days. “And for a while, it worked. The band became famous. My name was everywhere, and I thought we were invincible. I thought our friendships were invincible too. But I was na?ve.”
Her hand slides into mine, and when I open my eyes, I see dark sapphire irises staring into mine. “Mitch?”
My stomach clenches the way it always does whenever I think of my former friend. “Yeah, Mitch.”
I realize we’ve gone a bit off topic when she asks, “What was he like…before?”
Before he got so caught up in himself, he became someone neither of us recognized?
Before he slept with a seventeen-year-old girl and then tried to pay her off when she came to him, desperate, alone, and pregnant?
“He was funny,” I end up saying. “Funny and kind of arrogant, which, in hindsight, makes sense.”
“What do you mean?” Her fingers slowly trace a pattern across the back of my palm.
“The five of us went to boarding school together,” I tell her. “But I’m sure you know that.”
“Everyone knows that.” She smirks. “You met at a London boarding school. Evans, Darius, and Mitch all come from wealthy English families. You were the only Scot. And when you were all supposed to be learning how to run empires or whatever, you were instead jamming in your dorm rooms and dreaming of a life in America.”
I nod, smirking. The real story involved lots of missteps, like bombing our first show, almost getting kicked out of school, and giving up half a dozen times.
“Something like that. Evans and Darius both have decent relationships with their families. For Mitch, however, it’s always been turbulent, especially with his father.
I think he spent most of his life trying to prove himself to that man. ” Whereas I just never bothered…
“Not a great recipe for fame.”
“No,” I agree. “We used to joke that if we ever became famous, Darius would be the one to let it all go to his head since he’s so—”
“Extra?”
“I guess that’s one way to describe him. I was going to say flamboyant, or maybe melodramatic? I know Hendrix would hate to hear this, but Darius is like Hen on a sugar high.”
She slaps her hand over his mouth, giggling. “Oh my god, they really are so much alike.”
“It’s probably why Darius annoys him so much.”
“So true.”
A comfortable silence settles between us. The fire crackles. The rain falls. Finally, I ask, “So what does fun look like to you? What exactly do you want me to teach you?” I ask, still skeptical that this woman needs any teaching at all.
“Oh, well, probably not any of the things you mentioned earlier.”
I try to recall. I mention partying, drinking, and oh. “None of them?” I tease her.
She blushes instantly. God, maybe Hen is right. I mostly ignored his claim that Mercury was a virgin for two reasons. First, it’s none of my business, and second, big brothers tend to think they know their sisters when they really have no idea.
But maybe he wasn’t so far off base.
“I just want to learn to be more spontaneous. More adventurous,” she says, avoiding my gaze. “I want to be able to go to a restaurant without researching twelve different places first, or get in the car without a destination.”
I want to tell her that her lack of spontaneity doesn’t make her any less fun. But I can tell she’s adamant about it, so if she’s worried about it, then maybe helping her loosen up wouldn’t be a bad idea.
So I just nod. “All right.”
“All right?”
“I’m not sure how spontaneous we can be when it comes to being in public, but I can plan something and keep it a surprise, which will give a certain element of spontaneity on your end.”
“Really?” Her eyes light up, and my heart stutters.
“Merc, you’re putting your whole damn life on hold for three months to help me out. Do I mind taking you out for some fun between boring social events? No, not at all. I’d say I owe you, at the very least.”
Her face blanches. “You don’t owe me, Asher. You don’t owe me anything. I’m here because I want to be. Because I choose to be. Please don’t think I need anything in return.”
I swallow down the surge of emotions threatening to break free. “I’m not used to people not wanting anything from me. Not demanding I give them a piece of myself.”
“I know.” She smiles. “Get used to it.”