Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (28 page)

Needing to break the tension and the silence, I ask, “So, how about some pizza?”

She looks up at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I smile at her.

Damn, she’s beautiful.

THAT WAS BY far one of the worst panic attacks I’ve had in years. I am so embarrassed and humiliated that I don’t even know where to begin or what to say. My heart is still pounding and even though the car is warm, and I’m wearing Ash’s jacket, I’m still shaking.

I don’t know what I would have done if Ash hadn’t been there. I can’t even remember what I used to do before him. Granted, I haven’t had this many in years—it’s like something has reopened inside me and I can’t shake the constant fear. Maybe I should go back into therapy. Clearly whatever I’ve been doing isn’t working anymore.

I can’t believe that guy grabbed me the way he did. Any given day, I can handle people touching my hands, arms, shoulders, whatnot—but he came up from behind when I wasn’t expecting it, and I just couldn’t escape the darkness from taking over.

When Ash’s voice breaks the silence suggesting pizza, I can’t help but to look up at his expression. Only Ash would think about something so completely off base to distract me from what’s currently running through my mind.

“I mean, I didn’t really eat much tonight and after watching you perform, I’m certain you must have worked yourself up an appetite. So, I was just thinking that we could throw on some comfortable clothes, eat some pizza, and watch a movie.” I really don’t know what to say to him. Not only is he the kindest person I have ever met, he knows how to handle me perfectly.

“I think that sounds great, but I’ll need to borrow some clothes.” I smooth the dress down with my free hand. It really is such a pretty dress.

He smirks at me—one dimple making an appearance—his eyes giving away his train of thought. Heat creeps up my neck and over my cheeks.

“There’s no borrowing; you can have whatever you want. And for the record, you look absolutely beautiful tonight. Different,” he trails off, appraising me. “But . . . wow. The hair, the makeup, the dress, I was speechless when I saw you. Although, I don’t like the eyes.”

A blush creeps into my cheeks and I reach across for one suspender, pulling it so it snaps back. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself, and the eyes, well, it’s all part of it. Curly hair and blue eyes is me. And I’ve discovered that on any regular day they make me look ‘like that famous girl,’ but not really. Not enough to stop people.”

He doesn’t say anything back. Nothing needs to be said. He understands.

Lifting my hand to his mouth, he gently brushes a kiss across the brace where my wrist was broken. The tenderness makes my eyes burn and my heart swell.

As the car continues to drive, we fall into a comfortable silence, and it makes me appreciate him even more. His fingers play with the brace directly over my tattoo. Pulling the Velcro, he loosens it, slides it off, and stares down at my wrist. Streetlights flicker in and out of the backseat as the car moves down the road, giving him enough light to see it clearly.

Lifting my arm, he runs his finger across the second key and the fifth. The “B” and the “E.”

His eyes find mine, and I know he remembers our conversation on the lake.

“Be.” His voice is a whisper, but the word lingers between us, and a magnetic charge fills the air.

His eyes drop to my mouth and tiny flutters sweep through my stomach. Gently pulling on my arm, he closes the distance between us, and his warm lips find mine. This kiss isn’t urgent or consuming, it’s compassionate and healing. It could be seconds or minutes that pass, I’m not sure, but once the fingers of his other hand wrap around my head and into my hair, I surrender.

Deepening the kiss, he thoroughly explores my mouth, breaking free every so often to place random kisses across my face. I feel cherished and loved, and I know when it comes to him, I never need to be afraid.

“Sir, we’re here,” a deep voice comes from the front seat.

“Thank you, Ryan,” Ash says, pulling away from me.

Taking my hand, we climb out of the town car and walk into a large, high-rise condo building.

“Is this where you live?” I ask him looking around at the posh interior.

“Yep. Clay and I were still living in North Carolina when the label first offered us a deal. We had driven into town to sign the paperwork, they handed each of us a signing bonus, and when we walked out the front door, the first thing we saw was this building. Headquarters to the label is a few blocks that way.” He points behind us. “Some of it was still under construction, so they were selling the units at a preconstruction discount. We were going to need a place to live and saw this as a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Invest the money and get a home. Clay’s condo is next door to mine, so we both have the same view. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve talked about cutting a doorway between the two units, making it one large condo.”

“Evening, sir.” The security guard greets Ash as we walk by and head to the elevators.

“John,” he nods his head and smiles in return.

“Don’t you worry about people coming in? Staking out and waiting for you?”

He pushes the call button for the elevator and we wait.

“No, Clay and I pay for the security. We increased the monitoring of the lobby level, the stairwell, and our floor. And once we became more well-known, the builders were very accommodating in changing out the elevator to one that required an access key. Us living in one of their buildings being great publicity for them and all.”

The elevator door dings and we climb in. I watch as he pulls out the key, inserts it, and hits the button for his floor.

“We have a doorman at ours in New York.” My voice trails off as I take in a deep breath and look at the ground.

“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing my hand, regaining my attention. “Just relax, okay? Everything is fine.”

“I know. All in all, it was a really great night, I think I’m just tired—on an emotional level.”

“I get it.” He cups my face with his free hand and runs his thumb back and forth across my cheek. It’s so comforting, I want to roll into him like he’s a security blanket.

The elevator dings and he pulls me out. The hall isn’t very large and there’s only one other door. As we walk toward the one on the right, I assume the one on the left is Clay’s.

“Just two units here?”

“Yep, about two and a half years ago, Clay and I did a little remodeling. We bought out the other units, had design plans drawn, and while we were out on tour had the construction done.” He pulls his keys, and unlocks and opens the door. Black and tan fur comes barreling at us, and a laugh escapes me.

“Oh, hi, Whiskey,” I coo at him. He rams his head into my leg and almost knocks me over. “Geez, buddy, I’m happy to see you too!” He circles around us, Ash pets his head and guides us into the foyer.

My eyes sweep up from Whiskey and pass over the condo before me. I’m shocked by the detail and overall ambiance of his home. This condo looks like it could be featured in
Architectural Digest.
Where his lake house is all rustic, this space looks more like a contemporary loft, but still accents his country roots, making it his. From the columns, crown molding, marble flooring, soaring ceilings, lighter coloring, and clean lines to the soothing shades of blues and browns, draped windows, plush throw rugs, and oversized furniture, it looks like him, and immediately I feel at home.

Stepping down into the sunken living room, my eyes fall to a far wall that holds all of the music awards he’s won and framed images of his albums and concert tours. There are pictures of him and Clay that span their years together, and most noticeably to me, their days as the Blue Horizons.

Ash comes to stand next to me as I look at all of his successes across the wall.

“You know, I kind of feel bad for what I said to you about the music now.” My thoughts turn to how I basically told him his new music wasn’t any good.

Turning to face him, I watch as he runs his hand across his jaw, taking his time before he answers. “Don’t. You didn’t tell me something I didn’t already know. I think the music, how I felt about what we were singing, it became my biggest problem.” He looks away from me and back to the wall.

“I suppose we have some things we need to talk about, huh?” I lean into his side.

“Yeah, we do. I have so much to tell you, but most can wait until tomorrow. I have to say though, I wouldn’t change a thing. You not knowing about all of this meant you got to know me for me, and not what I can offer you. Although, knowing you now, I don’t think it would have mattered, or maybe it would have been different in some other way, but what did matter to me was no one’s ever taken the time before. I have to imagine you probably feel the same way.”

Taking my hand, he begins walking toward the hallway.

“Then again, had I known who you are, I definitely would have done things differently.” He flashes me one of his gorgeous smiles. “So, I’m glad I didn’t know. Don’t get me wrong, the emotions I felt today when Mr. Lang introduced you were all over the place. I was completely floored by your beauty, starstruck, and embarrassed to think that I probably should have figured this out sooner, but I didn’t.”

“I agree with you. If I had known you were ‘The Will Ashton,’ I never would have let myself get to know you. Part of your allure was that I got to feel like a nobody with another nobody. Not that you’re a nobody . . .” I blush. “But you know what I mean. So is that your real name?”

He laughs at my question and walks us into what I assume is his bedroom. It’s decorated in dark grays and white with dark wood furniture and thick carpet. He has a fireplace, more windows that have treatments, and a huge built-in entertainment center. “Yes, it’s William Ashton, no middle name. Everyone calls me Will. You and Clay are the only two who call me Ash. What’s yours?”

“Avery Emerson Layne, but my friends all call me Av. It’s nice to meet you, William Ashton.” I smile up at him. I love the sound of his name.

Letting go of my hand, he helps me out of his jacket and tosses it onto a nearby chair. Being bolder than I have in a really long time, I reach up and gently stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head into my hand and his eyes close. Just knowing that my touch is affecting him this way makes my heart beat faster. His eyes open, lock onto mine, and I can’t help but bite my bottom lip. His eyes drop to my lips, but he doesn’t move.

Being close to him makes me so nervous, and not in the way that I’ve become accustomed to, more along the lines of good nervous butterflies, but at the same time I’m not nervous with him at all. I haven’t been this comfortable with a guy since Chris—well, before things turned bad—but with Ash, it feels effortless.

Desperate to get this dress off and into some of his comfortable clothes, I slowly turn around and look at him over my shoulder.

“Do you mind helping me with the zipper?” I ask confidently.

“Ah, Ms. Layne, is that your way of asking me to take your clothes off?” he smirks at me and winks.

My eyes narrow and his smile grows wider, forcing those dimples to make an appearance. It’s not lost on me that this is the same flirty Ash from the night we met. Only this time, his off-handed comment doesn’t leave me blacking out and running for the street.

“Do you trust me?” he tilts his head as his eyes assess me.

“You know I do,” I say quietly.

Silence fills the room and heat assaults my back as he steps closer to me. My heart starts racing and my breathing picks up in anticipation of him touching me.

Gently, his hands come down on my bare shoulders and he rubs them up and down. I gasp at the sensation and squeeze my eyes shut. Every muscle tightens, and his hold on me stills as I start to tremble. I’m trying to fight the ghosts, I really am, it’s just so hard.

“Avery, who’s behind you right now?” he asks, sliding his hands over my back to gather up my hair. Pushing all of it over one shoulder and to the front, his hands flatten against my skin and run over my shoulder blades to the top of the dress.

“You are.” My voice is rough and strained.