The entire night had been electrifying, a balance between excitement and exhaustion. Though she was tired and sweaty, she didn’t want to leave. If there was a chance she might connect with him, she would . . . You would what, Sky?
If the truth be told, she had no idea what she was going to do if she saw Dash. All she knew was she’d felt the link between them again tonight. She couldn't explain it and entertaining the idea that there might be more than something casual between them might make her a fool but, then, so did making out in an airport with a total stranger. There was no way to categorize what she felt whenever he was near; it defied logic.
When she looked into Dash's eyes, she found something more than she should. A need in her blossomed when they touched. Though it made no sense at all, every emotion she'd attempted to put into words in a love story was happening in real life to her. She was the girl falling for the guy. The unlikely pair whose worlds and circumstances would eventually resolve into a happily ever after. She was the fictional character defying all odds. The girl from the small pond whose desire was to swim with a big fish. But it shouldn't be. There were a million reasons why she and Dash shouldn’t start a relationship, and only one reason why they should—kismet.
Was she kidding herself? Was it all fabled bullshit? Truth was what she could see in front of her own eyes. Surely some scientist somewhere had figured out a logical, mathematical formula that would prove that there was no such thing as predestination, and that all things were random. But she wanted to believe. Her head hurt as she warred with herself.
Why was she trying so hard to figure this out? Dash was probably long gone from the venue. What she needed to do was go home, take a hot shower, and climb into bed. After a good night’s sleep, her scattered thoughts would clear. She’d return to her fictional worlds and write out this story with an ending of her own choosing.
Sky grabbed her purse. She didn't need a hotel room; she’d sobered enough to drive. At least now the concert area was nearly empty. She’d lagged behind long enough for the crowd to have thinned out. Once she got home, she could write about her experience tonight in detail. It would make an excellent premise for a story. She could use her imagination to create the relationship and the ending she wanted. That was a much better idea than the alternative, hanging out like a little groupie to get a glimpse of the rock star.
Her spiked heel boots made a clacking sound as she made her way out of the row. Roadies were on the platform, busy breaking down the stage. As they dismantled lights and sound equipment, the cleaning crew busied themselves in the seating area. The members of the band had probably been shuttled away to wherever it was that would afford them the most privacy. There was no need for her to stick around. She had Dash's number. She’d give him a courtesy call tomorrow and tell him she appreciated the night out. Her original idea of reconnecting with a guy that had turned her on was foolish anyway, especially now that she knew who he was and what he did for a living. There was no way the two of them would work out, coming from such different worlds.
"Excuse me, miss?"
Skylar paused. A huge man with a booming voice approached her from behind. As she turned, she recognized him as one of the men who'd been rolling equipment cases up onto the stage after the concert. He wore a black tee shirt and had a lanyard around his neck.
"This is for you." He reached toward her, his thumb pinching a piece of paper between it and his other fingers.
As Skylar took it from him, she couldn't help but notice his hands were two times the size of hers. "Thank you."
He smiled a pleasant smile and inclined his head as he left. When he turned, she noted the word "STAFF" in white letters stretched across his broad back. She waited until he was a few steps away before opening it. There, written in beautiful penmanship, was a note from Dash.
Butterflies, once again, fluttered.
If you can stick around for a few minutes, I'd like to see you.
Dash
Chapter 10
What exactly was it about Dash that made her tummy flip and her thoughts scramble?
Anxiety? Maybe.
Excitement? Probably.
School-girl crush? Definitely.
A waterfall of emotion showered over her, leaving a thin film of doubt in its wake. What did a man like Dash Barrows want with a girl like her? His life was most certainly more exciting than hers which was quiet and spent behind a computer screen. Every cliché occupied rent-free space in her thoughts. She'd heard the stories and read the tabloids. The rumor was that musicians had a girl in every city and were only out for an easy piece of ass. Ugh! The plague of an overactive imagination. She could go around and around for days with different case scenarios and still come up with no answer.
Sky walked to the edge of the stage. Like a kid on a carnival ride, her thoughts went askew, and she wondered which persona would appear when she saw Dash. The sweet guy from the airport, or an arrogant rock star?
Behind her, the sound of boots scraping against a cement floor interrupted her fast and furious thoughts. When she turned, the objections and concerns at the forefront of her mind withered at the sight of a pair of warm, brown eyes. Heat blushed her cheeks as a lazy smile stretched her lips. “Thank you for the ticket."
"Thank you for waiting."
And there it was. A combination that could only be described as “Mr. Sex on a Stick” with a voice that was as smooth as Kentucky bourbon. He stood tall above her and, as she looked up, her neck craned to take in the whole effect. His eyes and hair were darker up close than they were from a distance with lights beaming down on his head. She surveyed his body, remembering what it felt like against her. With narrowed eyes and disapproval on her lips, she smirked. "You could have warned me, you know."
Dash canted his head to the side as his brows pulled together. Questioning lines furrowed the space in between. "You didn't know? I thought you might have put it all together."
Skylar shook her head. "Nope. I was busy with deadlines. I Googled the band so I could listen to some of their, correction, your, music, but that was all I searched for. Just the music. I guess if I’d spent more time researching, I would have put two and two together."
"Sorry 'bout that." He shrugged it off, sheepishly. His eyes sparked as if a thought occurred to him. He tipped his head. "If you want to know the truth, I'm glad you didn't know. You'd be surprised at the shit people will do to meet the members of the band." Retreating a few steps, he leaned back and rested his weight against the edge of the stage.
Taking a cue from him, she took a seat across from him in the now empty row. "I'll bet." She nodded. Pausing as an image came to mind, she then scrunched up her face. "I'll go out on a limb and say I’ll bet none of them have dropped all their stuff in an airport to get your attention."
As he laughed at her answer, she fell into the sound. It wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. How was it possible she could feel homesick for a sound that wasn’t yet familiar?
"No. I can, quite honestly, report that no one has ever used that one."
At the awkward memory, Sky was desperate to explain yet again. Her hands raised in surrendered gesture. "I assure you, that was not my plan."
Another pause passed between them yet Dash never released his gaze. She, however, grew more self-conscious beneath his scrutiny.
An awkward moment ticked by. Then two. Then three.
She stood as discomfort pricked her skin. She reached out, extended her hand, and gave him a grateful smile. "It was really nice seeing you again. Thank you, again, for tonight.”
Dash blinked, momentarily stunned by the change in her demeanor. A question quirked his brow. He took her hand. "Sky, don’t go.” His eyes begged her to stay. He spoke easier. “You're really beautiful, you know?"
Her expression shifted as his tongue loosened. She felt a wry grin shape her lips.
"Shit! I didn't mean that."
Morphing once again, lines etched her forehead. She watched in silence. Her sho
ulders stiffened as she tipped her chin. Certainly, he didn’t mean to renege on his compliment.
Mortified, he clicked his tongue. "I mean, I'm not a psycho or anything. It’s just that your face . . ." He fumbled the words as he dropped his chin and ran a hand through his hair.
An awkward smile curved her lips. “My face what?” With a quarter turn of her head, she presented an ear to indicate she was waiting for an explanation. From this vantage she could still see him, and most certainly could hear him. Though she toyed, it would be fun to watch him walk over the eggshells without cracking them further.
He raised his head, cocking it to the side to look at her through sheepish eyes. "I'm really fucking this up, aren't I?"
Amused, she acknowledged the point with a tip of her chin and a bob of her head. "You’re doing a fine job of it." The phrase misery loves company ran through her mind and, though she hated to admit it, his discomfort made her feel less self-conscious. Gone was her preconceived notion that he would be all cool and arrogant. Now that he was the awkward one, she felt refreshed. Instead of meeting up with a stuck up, egotistical public figure, he was just a regular guy.
"I didn't mean to say you were ugly or anything like that."
Her eyes rounded further as he, once again, put his foot in his mouth.
"Shit! I did it again!"
Clearly irritated with himself, she saved him by closing the distance between them and placing her finger on his lips. "Stop talking. It’s fine."
His expression relaxed as he realized she’d kept him from digging the deeper hole. He wrapped his hand around hers and removed it from his mouth. "So much for making a good impression."
She remained quiet, yet her thoughts scattered again. All that mattered was Dash and this moment. The rest of her thoughts could wait.
"I don't know what it is about you, Skylar, but you rattle me—and then you see right through me." He spoke easier, squeezing her fingers as he made his confession.
She swallowed. She walked the same clumsy road as he did. Maybe that’s why his honesty was refreshing. The color of his eyes intensified as his expression turned serious. Now nearly black, they spilled their secrets.
"Everybody thinks I'm cool, and maybe I am in some things. But when it comes to you . . . I don't know. There's something there. Something more." His baritone fell an octave. "I guess it’s better that you know the truth. I’m really a fuckup—at least when it comes to impressing you.”
"You're trying to impress me?" She lost her poise, blurting out the words but she couldn't silence the surprise in her voice. “I don’t get that. You’re the one they all came to see. Why would you want to impress me?” Her thoughts scrabbled for an answer to her own question. Dash Barrows could have any woman he wanted, yet he was trying to impress her? She waited to hear the explanation as she watched him swallow what she could only imagine was a bundle of nerves.
"Because from what I know of you—and I know it’s not much—I like you. You're genuine and kind and funny. It's crazy, but you’re one of the most fascinating people I've ever met. I thought that before I kissed you. After the kiss, I wanted to do it again and again."
Skylar shivered, fearing the intensity in his gaze because she was sure she would drown in its naked truth. Dash reached around her waist, pulling her in to remove any space between them. Like a war drum, her heart pounded out an emotional beat. Dash fought to find the right words to express himself. He reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Tender feelings blossomed inside of her. The solace that most people search a lifetime for was right in front of her, reflected in his eyes. His easy smile tormented what was left of her reservations and she released them.
"Before you write me off, just know that shit like this doesn't happen to me. I like you, Sky. I want to get to know you better. All you have to do is let me."
Chapter 11
Skylar's heart tore open. It wasn't just Dash's words that won her over, it was the sincerity with which he’d said them. Their conversation could have lasted a minute or an hour, but time seemed to stand still when she was with him. The buttery smooth tone of his voice made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
"So, you’ll go out with me?"
"Was that a question or a statement?"
"Both."
She looked around the auditorium as she lured him from his serious tone to her more playful one. "In case you didn't notice, you did ask me out, and I'm here."
A line of disapproval filled his lips. "Not a date like this—although I'm glad you came tonight. I'm talking about a real date. We could do something easy like coffee, or we could go to a fancy restaurant. Your choice."
The smile on her face was the outward expression of her inner happiness, yet so much more bubbled beneath the surface. If Dash could really see how genuinely excited she was, he might have run the other way. Her gut told her to go for it. He seemed like such a nice guy. Not like some of the men she'd dated in the past. They’d droned on and on, mostly about themselves. She’d only been able to take so much of their egos before she’d had to end things. Although this was only their second meeting, she felt the contrast. Those guys bored her with their constant bragging, while Dash had every right to boast, yet didn't.
Then, a sudden case of nerves hit. Was she setting herself up for disaster? Dash did have every right to brag, so what did he want with her? He could have any girl he wanted.
Sky needed air. Distance. The hair on the back of her neck was standing at attention and her palms were clammy. As she took a few steps back, she wiped her hands on her jeans. Her insides rattled, she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Precisely what was the proper protocol when the guy who kissed you and asked you out was one of the most eligible bachelors in the United States?
"Um, okay?"
Dash stretched to his full height, his tone tentative. "Now I have to ask if that's a question or a statement. Really?"
She shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, why not? What do I have to lose?" She managed a twisted smile. "Let's tell the truth here. You already stood me up so you could go play music with your friends in front of a couple of thousand people. Coffee seems pretty tame compared to sitting next to an empty seat." She tossed him a smirk. "You are going to sit down at a table with me, right? I mean, you're not going to turn out to own the restaurant or be a barista, are you? Just asking."
Dash let out a laugh. "How did you like those empty seats? I wanted to make sure you had a good view."
"You did that?" Surprise rounded her eyes. "I thought the ticket holders just didn't show up."
"Nope. That was me. When I remembered your height, I had them reseated."
His expression was sweet. If nothing else, he was certainly thoughtful. Again, something uniquely different from other men she'd dated. But the sudden fear crept back in and seized her heart. This roller coaster of emotions was not a ride she wanted to be on. A not-so-pretty scene that included press and paparazzi played out in her anxious thoughts. One that might alter their course. Now that she was aware of Dash's notoriety, she had to think more clearly. This wasn't just a date anymore. It wasn't only Dash and her. Now it was Dash, her, and the public. The mental image was overwhelming.
Taking a few steps back, she distanced herself from him. "On second thought, let me think about it, okay?"
"Whoa! What just happened, Sky? I saw it in your eyes. You drifted away." Disappointment shadowed his eyes as his expression turned serious and guarded. He studied her for a moment, wariness written across his face. "If I say yes, you have to tell me what changed your mind all of a sudden."
She made a quick attempt to gather her thoughts but uttered not a word. If she did, she would prove herself to be a coward. A million scenarios were screaming in her head, but one took center stage. It was the only explanation she could give him at the moment. "Because you're larger than life, Dash Barrows, and I'm a bookworm. An introvert. Chances are someone, somewhere, will snap a picture of something as innocent as coffee and make
it into something else. You're used to that kind of attention. You live a billboard-sized life, where mine is the size of a postage stamp. It isn't just me I'm thinking about. I'm thinking of you, too. I don't want you to put either of us in an awkward position." Though her expression softened, her mind battled with conflicting thoughts. Dash's personal life wasn't personal. She couldn't imagine what that kind of scrutiny might be like, and she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know.
Instead of backing off as she’d expected, Dash doubled down. His jaw stiffened, his lips tightened into a tense line, and determination corrupted his usually soft gaze. "My life might be billboard size, as you said, but underneath all the hype, I'm just a regular guy. I can't help that my life is more public than private, but I want to get to know you better. Me, Dash Barrows the man, not Disordered Fate's guitarist. What you see on the stage is two hours out of a twenty-four-hour life. That guy you see up there is a much more cautious fuck than you think. That is work. This is me." He took a step closer. "What I do on stage is just like any other guy going to work for a paycheck, just more visible. Those stories you might have read about me? They’re all hype. Believe it or not, Sky, I don't drink, smoke, or do drugs. I am very responsible in my private life." He tossed back her earlier smirk. "Except for laundry. I hate doing laundry."
While she appreciated the explanation, she was lost in her own thoughts. They were conflicted at best. While he’d presented more reasons why they should have, at least one, real date, she tried to define the hollow feeling she got when she thought about never seeing him again.
With a slow shake of his head, he caught her wrist. Her gaze fell to the point of their connection. Though the tiny, comforting circles he traced on the top side sent soothing messages, her stomach was still doing flip-flops. He took her chin between his fingers and lifted. His jaw was set while resolve filled his gaze. "You really should give me a chance, you know?"
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