Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Holy hell, she was pretty.
The first time Ashley had come backstage to introduce herself at a previous show, Drew had been knocked over by her beauty. But his memory hadn’t done her justice. Hadn’t even come close.
Her wavy brunette locks were streaked with sun-kissed strands.
Her skin was so soft-looking and creamy that when she flushed every time he looked at or spoke to her, he found he could barely keep his hands off her.
He wanted to stroke her cheek with his fingertips, wanted to know if her mouth tasted as good as it looked.
Because something told him it definitely would.
She wasn’t tall, wasn’t little either, and was just curvy enough to make him drool.
In her black jeans and long-sleeved shirt, she managed to be a gorgeous combination of sweet and sexy.
Although he wondered if she had any idea at all of just how sexy she was.
None of the girls shoving their breasts in his face before or after the show tonight held a candle to her. Ashley Emmit was simply perfect.
But she could never be his. Not one beautiful inch of her.
“Take care of my baby.” Drew could hear her father’s words as clearly as if the man had been standing in front of him right now.
They’d spoken on the phone that morning, and the professor he’d had for statistics at Stanford three years ago couldn’t have been clearer.
“Don’t let anything happen to her. She’s the whole world to me. ”
“You have my word,” Drew had promised.
With two younger sisters—Olivia was going to start a graduate program in education at Stanford in the fall, while Madison would be going into her freshman year, also at Stanford—Drew knew all about protecting the people he loved.
He’d do anything for his family, give up anything for them if it would keep them safe.
“I wouldn’t let her go on tour with anyone else, Drew.” Dr. Emmit had clearly wanted to hammer his point home. “Just you. After having had you as one of my students, I know you and trust you.”
So even though Drew was probably going to deplete the bus’s cold-water storage tank with the copious number of freezing showers he would need to take, it was why Ashley was traveling on his bus.
Normally, he traveled solo so that he could write and record without disturbing anyone else.
But not only was he not doing any writing or recording lately, he needed to make sure she stayed safe.
The guys in his band and on his crew were great, but they were still guys who were sure to think she was just as pretty as Drew did…
and who hadn’t made any vows to his professor.
He’d already told them all that she was off-limits, but as soon as they turned in for the night, he’d send a text out to everyone to remind them that if they so much as looked at her wrong, they’d have to answer to him.
And there would be no second chances where Ashley was concerned.
As pure as she’d come onto his tour, she was going to leave the same way.
Drew got himself a beer and poured her the glass of wine she finally requested in a near whisper.
He was used to making girls nervous. It had happened to him and his brothers ever since they were kids.
In first grade, he’d gone up to ask Jennie Leland if he could share her crayons, and her eyes had gotten real big right before she’d dropped the crayons on the floor.
She’d pretty much hidden from him for the rest of the school year.
But he didn’t want Ashley to feel she needed to hide from him.
Even if he needed to keep his hands and mouth—and every other part of himself—from touching her, he still wanted her to get what she needed out of this tour.
Not only because he felt he owed it to her father, who had been a great teacher, but also because after only a handful of minutes he already liked her.
He could do this, damn it. He could do his favorite professor a favor, could be a platonic friend to Ashley, and all would end well.
“My brother Grant went to Stanford Business School,” he said. “Seems like they give their students one hell of an education.”
“They do. And your brother is a legend. Collide is by far the best social network around.”
Drew laughed, even though every time she spoke, his heart beat a little faster. Her voice was beautiful, a melody unlike any he’d ever heard. He realized now that he’d heard that melody the first time they’d met, but it had been faint enough then for him to let it fade away.
But tonight? Tonight, he wanted Ashley to keep playing that melody for him over and over again.
“He’s got a few brains knocking around in there, for sure. And so, I’m guessing, do you, if you’re aiming for the biz school.”
She frowned, and he wanted so badly to reach out and smooth away the lines on her forehead and the ones that formed at the edges of her beautiful mouth. “Aiming is a good way of putting it.” She sighed, and he could see what it cost her to admit, “I applied last year, but they rejected me.”
“Isn’t it the toughest school to get into in the country? Maybe even the world? Doesn’t pretty much everyone get rejected?”
“It is tough to get in.” Her chin went up. “But I’m good enough. At least I thought I was, until they rejected my application. That’s why I’m here, to get my act together so that they say yes when I apply again.”
He stilled, suddenly feeling as though he was looking in a mirror.
He knew that expression of disappointment and confusion on Ashley’s face as she talked about being rejected by the business school.
Just as she’d always thought she was good enough to get into the top-notch program in the country, music had always been the one thing Drew could count on.
He’d never thought to lose that certainty, never thought he’d have to reach so far or so hard for lyrics and notes, never thought they’d still be out of reach no matter how hard he tried.
It sucked. Especially with the label breathing down his neck for another hit—and the soundtrack Smith Sullivan and Valentina Landon were waiting for him to deliver for their new movie.
But all he’d been able to write was one song: “One More Time.” Hell, he hadn’t even been able to play it for anyone until tonight—not when it was the most raw, intense song he’d ever written.
But he hadn’t been able to keep it inside himself for a second longer.
Working to push away his thoughts about his mom, he refocused on Ashley. “I have no doubt that you’re good enough. The admissions committee must have screwed up. They’ll jump at your application this year.”
“They didn’t screw up,” she said softly. “I didn’t have any practical music experience, but I definitely will after watching you on tour.” Another flush came. “I didn’t mean for that to sound stalkery.” She repeated the words watching you on tour in a low, creepy voice, making fun of herself.
He couldn’t keep from laughing out loud.
Couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to laugh out loud.
Even with his family, who usually made him laugh until his stomach hurt, things had been strained.
Ever since their mom got sick the previous year, none of the Morrisons smiled as much.
Just thinking about his mom had his smile falling away.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” she said into the silence that fell between them as his mood turned darker, “just how great your show was tonight.”
“Thanks.” His mom would have loved Ashley. But thinking that only brought him down further, unfortunately.
She studied him then, but not in a bad way. It was more like she was trying to figure out how she could help him feel better. “Were you not happy with the show?”
Jesus, he was acting like a total douche. Saying he wanted to hang out with her tonight, then getting all moody. “No, it wasn’t bad.”
“Wasn’t bad?” She leaned forward over the tabletop between them. “It was amazing.”
“Our timing was a little rough on some of the faster songs.” He just hadn’t been all there, hadn’t been able to find that feeling he used to get from the songs. No matter how far he reached, no matter how hard he tried.
“I know it’s good that you notice all the details,” she said, “because then you can perform your songs even better the next time. But I can guarantee that there wasn’t a single person in the audience who noticed any timing problems or fumbling. Probably because we were too busy crying—”
Her eyes went wide the moment the words came out. And maybe he should have let it go, but knowing she had cried during one of his songs—it meant something to him. Something big.
“When?” She didn’t answer right away, so he asked again in a gentle voice, “When did you cry, Ashley?”
He’d been naked with plenty of women over the years, but no moment had ever felt as intimate as this one, where they both had all their clothes on and weren’t even touching. When he was simply waiting for her answer to a question that seemed incredibly important.
She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and just when he thought she might not respond at all, she finally spoke. “During your new song, ‘One More Time.’ The way you sang about pain, about heartbreak, and feeling like you’d never be whole again…it was just so beautiful.”
“I wrote that song the day—” His throat tightened down before he could finish the sentence.
“Drew.” Ashley’s voice was thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
For a moment he thought it might happen, that the tears he hadn’t shed would finally fall. But then he felt himself shut down, like a shutter clicking into place one slat at a time.
“I am, too.” He looked out the window just as the bus came to a stop. “We’re here.”