Don't Read in the Closet volume one (39 page)

Jackson brought
his gaze back to him. “I do a lot for charities.”

“Yeah, but this
is a different kind of charity. I wouldn’t think you’d want your image tied to
anything related to HIV and AIDS.”

Anger darkened
Jackson’s expression. “And once again, you’re making assumptions about me when
you don’t know a goddamn thing about me. Playing for this cause means more to
me than any other charity I’ve thrown my support behind. It’s someone like you
who I can’t believe
is
playing for it.”

Ash snapped
back, “Someone like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you
know what it means. Men like you, sleeping around, not giving a shit about
anything or anyone so long as you get off. You’re not exactly the ideal poster
boy for prevention.”

Anger and hurt
stole Ash’s voice. He rose slowly to his feet and stood over Jackson, glaring
down at him. He forced his voice to return, but it came out low and rough. “Now
who’s making assumptions? You don’t know a fucking thing about what I do behind
closed doors or what kind of man I am. You’ve said some shit before that’s
really pissed me off, but you’ve never offended me like you just did and you’ve
never cut so low. But you know what? I’m still glad I came here to talk to you
because our media feud really is over now. You’re not even worth my time to
comment about in an interview anymore.”

On his final
word, Ash marched away. He heard Jackson call his name, thinking he caught a
pleading tone in the single word, but he didn’t bother looking back.

CHAPTER 4

Sitting in the
stadium seats, his band members chatting around him, Ash watched the rehearsals
down on the stage, but he didn’t hear the conversation or music. All he could
hear were Jackson’s words replaying in his mind, as they had throughout the
night.

He couldn’t
believe Jackson thought that’s the kind of person he was. He wouldn’t, and
couldn’t, deny he lived a promiscuous life, but he was always safe. It hurt for
Jackson to imply he wasn’t, but not because of just the words, but because it
meant Jackson’s opinion of him was that low.

A nudge to his
arm interrupted his thoughts.

“It’s a new
day, man,” Jeremy said. “You gonna keep going with the bad mood from
yesterday?”

“That was my
plan. And I’m still pissed at you for sending me over there last night when you
knew Jackson was surrounded by his posse.”

Jeremy chuckled
under his breath. “Yeah, I was kind of a jerk, but I wanted to see if your
balls were as big as his. Who knew they would be?”

Ash shoved
Jeremy on the shoulder. “But you know what kills me? There were times when we
were talking where it felt like we really were getting along, like there could
be some friendship there.”

His seat behind
Ash and Jeremy, Devin leaned forward between the two of them. “Maybe you
shouldn’t have tried flirting with him. Him calling you slutty might’ve been
his way of saying back off.”

“I think it was
just him stating the obvious,” Chad said.

Ash snorted.
“So what if I’m slutty? It’s the other shit he connected to it.”

Devin sat back
in his seat. “That was harsh, I’ll give you that. I don’t get it with you two.
You cross words constantly, but you’re both fans of each other’s music. You
meet in person and fight,
then
share a beer. Fight,
have a few laughs. Fight, and…well, that blank still needs to be filled, but
you get my point.”

A wicked smirk
crossed Jeremy’s lips. “I think I know what
the blank
is going to get
filled with.”

Ash returned
Jeremy’s smirk with his own. “Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Of course you
wouldn’t,” Chad said. “You know, because of the whole slutty thing.”

Ash twisted in
his seat to see him. “At least I own up to my sluttiness. Not like him. Country
stars aren’t that much different than rockers when it comes to that. You might
not hear about their escapades as much, but I know there’re country artists who
party just as hard as rock stars. So someone needs to take that high and mighty
moral stick out of Jackson’s ass.”

Jeremy leaned
toward him. “Totally agree, and get ready. You’re about to get a chance in
about thirty seconds.”

Ash whipped
back around in his seat to see Jackson climbing the stairs toward them.

Jackson stopped
a couple rows down, looking up at him. “Care if I join you for a few minutes?”

Ash waved his
hand to encompass the stadium. “There’s not exactly a shortage of seats.”

“Yeah, but I
want to talk to you.”

“You did that
yesterday. There’s nothing left to say. So just go find some shit to kick, or
cows to tip, or whatever the hell else you country boys do.”

“Ash,” Jeremy
said,
his voice scolding.

Jackson lowered
his head. “No, I deserved that. I said some pretty rough things to him last
night.”

“We’ve already
been filled in,” Devin said.

“I figured as
much.” Jackson lifted his head, finding Ash’s gaze. “And that’s why I’m here.”
A slight grin touched his lips. “Since I took back the Asshole Award from you
last night, I wanted to give you a chance to win it again.”

The smile, the
words, they were such small simple things, and yet Ash could feel his tension
toward Jackson melt because of them. He smiled at him. “I think I’ll let you
keep it for a while.”

Jackson
chuckled. “See? I knew you were a generous person.”

Ash laughed
softly. “Yeah, I’m nice like that.”

“And since
you’re so nice, can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

Ash caught in
Jackson’s tone he wanted to talk to him alone. He nodded and stood up. “I’ll
catch you guys before rehearsal.”

Devin called
after him, “Don’t worry about it! Enjoy having your blank filled.”

Ash snorted out
a laugh and lifted his middle finger high at his drummer.

Jackson gave
him a curious look. “Do I want to know what that meant?”

“Probably not.”

They walked in
silence through the stadium, their pace relaxed and unhurried. To Ash, the
silence between them felt comfortable, as if he’d walked beside Jackson so many
times before. The night before, during the times they got along, it came so
easily. But so did fighting, and that’s what he didn’t understand. How could
two such opposite things exist in how he felt with him?

As they reached
the artists’ area, Ash realized Jackson was taking him to his trailer so they
could talk in private. He felt a small thrill at the thought of being in a
completely private space with him, not that he thought what he wanted to have
happen would. But what else could happen? Fighting or fucking. Those were the
only options, and he really wasn’t in the mood to fight. And talking. He
guessed that was another option, especially since that’s what Jackson said he
wanted to do. But he really wasn’t in much of a mood for that either.

Jackson turned
for his trailer and opened the door, inviting Ash to step in first. He watched
Ash climbed the steps, his gaze locked on Ash’s ass. The jeans hugged the
curves of it so tight, showing how firm and finely shaped it was. His heartbeat
quickened with a mix of emotions, nervousness at getting ready to talk to him,
excitement at being alone with him, and lust at wanting to rip the skin-tight jeans
off Ash’s ass. Jackson shook his head to refocus himself and closed the trailer
door behind him as he followed Ash.

Ash walked to
the middle of the trailer and faced him, folding his arms across his chest. “So
what do you want to talk about?”

Jackson took in
Ash’s defensive posture. Ash looked like he was already prepared for a fight,
and he could understand why. They hadn’t been able to trust the few moments of
camaraderie with how quickly things took bad turns between them. Somehow, he
needed to get them making good turns together.

Jackson sighed
and moved closer to him, stopping at the table. He tugged off his cowboy hat
and tossed it to the table, his head bowed as he ran a hand over his short
black hair. “I’m trying to figure out where to begin.”

He glanced up
at Ash, the expression Ash wore, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, stopped
his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Ash blinked a
couple times. “It’s
just,
I think I’ve only seen about
two pictures of you without your hat on.”

A few low chuckles
left Jackson’s throat. “Do I look that bad without it?”

“No, you look
that good without it.”

Jackson’s
chuckling stopped, along with his breathing at the shock of Ash saying
something like that to him. He glanced away from him. If he didn’t know what to
say before, he really didn’t know now.

Ash unfolded
his arms, resting one hand and his hip against the edge of the table’s booth.
“Sorry. I know last night
me
getting flirty pissed you
off, but what I said just now, take it as a compliment. Don’t worry about any
other meaning.”

His voice
hardly a whisper, Jackson said, “You flirting last night didn’t piss me off.”
He chanced another look at Ash, seeing the shock had returned to his face. He
lifted his head more, looking into Ash’s eyes. “What you said last night, about
how you didn’t think I’d want to have my image tied to an HIV/AIDS event, why’d
you say that?”

“Because of the
typical stereotype connected to HIV and AIDS, the one
you
threw out at
me last night.” Ash’s voice came sharper. “
Which was total
bullshit on so many levels.
First, this is something that all people,
from all walks of life, need to be aware of and concerned about. It doesn’t
discriminate like people do. But it’s because of that stereotype that I figured
you’d want to stay clear of having your wholesome image close to it. And
second, you don’t know me. You don’t know what I do behind closed doors. But if
you want to know, I’m clean, I’m always safe, and I get tested regularly. What
you said, implying I just screw whoever, whenever, however, that was pretty
fucking low.”

Jackson nodded
slowly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Ash stared at
him, his mind thrown into shock once again. He couldn’t believe Jackson hadn’t
snapped back at him. Instead, Jackson was looking away, his entire demeanor
speaking of not wanting to fight. Ash felt his confusion growing. He didn’t get
what Jackson’s game was here, unless there was no game, just Jackson wanting to
truly have an open moment with him. The thought of that confused him even more.

Ash shoved the
thoughts aside. Hopefully he could figure things out as they kept talking.
“Well, I appreciate the apology. I’m not sure I want to accept it, though.”

“I can
understand that.”

“So why the
hell are you playing this concert? You said last night this was the most
important charity event you’ve ever done. With the shit you said to me, I’m
finding that a little hard to believe.”

Jackson stood
quiet for several moments. Ash started to think he wasn’t going to answer him,
until Jackson cleared his throat.

“I have an
uncle
who’s
HIV positive. He’s lived with it for
years. He has a partner and they love each other very much, but in their early
years, they were always on again, off again. He was something of a wild man
back then.” Jackson raised his head, giving Ash a small smile. “You’re going to
be surprised to learn this, but he’s a rocker. Never hit the big time, but he’s
played guitar in a band for years. Still does. He loves it. And he loves your
music, too. He’s a huge fan.”

All anger and
animosity he’d felt toward Jackson fled from Ash. He took a step toward him and
stood in front of him, close enough to touch him. “On our next tour, you guys
should come to one of our shows. I’ll give you my number so you can call me and
I’ll get you backstage.”

Jackson lost
his voice for a moment as he looked in Ash’s eyes. The ebony make-up lining
them accentuated their blue hue, but he had a feeling even without the
eyeliner, Ash’s eyes would be just as beautiful. He found his voice, but still
couldn’t take his gaze from Ash’s. “I’d appreciate that.”

“It’s no
problem.” Ash paused for a moment. “How is he now? I mean, is he doing okay?”