Heartbreaker: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance Read online

  “It should feel calmer than the rest of the show, yeah? It’s a new song, not like our old stuff, and I want the mood to be more pensive, less sultry, less metal.”

  “Are you sure now is a good time to debut that song?” the drummer, a more muscular man with full sleeves of tattoos and a shaved head, asked, coming up next to Ash.

  “I think now is the perfect time,” Ash said, making direct eye contact with me from across the room.

  The drummer followed his line of vision, let out a soft oh, and didn’t argue any further.

  I did my best not to think about what he was implying, but I couldn’t help myself. It stayed in the back of my mind and nudged at my consciousness. The band and crew were taking a break for a bit, so Ash sauntered over to me with a couple of water bottles. He threw one to me as I scrambled to catch it.

  He laughed, a real sound, not manufactured to create an image, but out of genuine amusement.

  “Finally decided to show up?” he teased.

  “Were you expecting me earlier?”

  “No, I’m just joking; don’t take it too seriously.” He nudged my arm. “I’m going to go outside to take a couple of hits outside; care to join me?”

  “Uhhh,” it was the first time I had heard him refer to drugs, so I didn’t quite know how to respond.

  “Hahaha, no pressure, princess. I can tell you’re the straight-edge type. Wouldn’t want your cute little outfit smelling like weed.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “Where did you get it? It looks good on you.”

  “A childhood friend of mine got it for me,” I said. I didn’t want the answer to feel awkward, as I didn’t how exactly how to classify Sebastian, especially when I knew my feelings for Ash were just as confusing.

  “Ah, I see.” He seemed almost disappointed by the answer, and, if I wasn’t reading too much into it, a little jealous too. His movements were forced as he turned to walk away, and I felt as if I shouldn’t have let him leave on that note.

  “Are you, uh…are you able to perform high?” I asked. I was genuinely curious at this point.

  Ash shrugged as if it were an easy question, one I should already know the answer to. “A lot of performers do. If you keep taking photographs of people like me, you’re going to have to get used to it.”

  “I just…I don’t know much about it is all.”

  “If you want to learn, you’re welcome to come with me. You can even take a hit or two to understand what it’s like. A lot of people like the feeling; it’s very calming.”

  “I think I’m good.”

  “Suit yourself.” And with that, he left, leaving me feeling even more confused than ever.

  In all honesty, I didn’t exactly have a problem with weed, but I did have a problem with other things. The thought of those things brought back memories that I didn’t want to think about now, certainly not when I had a job to do.

  I preoccupied myself with taking more photos of the other bandmates until Ash came back. His eyes were a little red, and I could smell the stench of the devil’s grass on his body. The smell of rock bands, I thought to myself.

  As I packed up my camera after being satisfied with the shots I got, Ash came over and leaned against the wall next to me. He smelled more like cologne, now that he had some on after he finished changing. He was in a ripped and grease-stained white t-shirt, which he somehow managed to make look artful instead of gross. He paired it with a leather jacket and ripped jeans, and a pair of silver cross earrings dangled beneath his ruffled hair.

  “Hey, princess,” he said, his tone clearly showing that he was currently very pleased with himself.

  “What is it, Ash?”

  “I was thinking about what you’re wearing…” Oh, so it was this again. I didn’t know if I could deal with his jealousy right now, or what the thought of what the outfit really meant.

  “I do think I have better taste than your childhood friend though. If I buy you something, will you wear it?”

  “Sure,” I replied, unsure how else I should respond to that.

  “Great. I’m looking forward to seeing you in your gift then,” Ash winked, and I wondered for a second if maybe I made a mistake. “Let’s exchange phone numbers then?”

  “I don’t see the harm in that,” I said as I pulled out my phone.

  I unlocked it and opened it up to a new contact page. We traded contact information, and as we did, our hands grazed each other’s, and my heart skipped a few beats.

  I punched in my number and put my name down as Lillian. When I got my phone back from him, I found that he had put his name in as Bad Boy Ash.

  “Okay, you know I’m changing your contact name, right?”

  “Come on, Lillian; I thought you were an artist. Where’s your creativity?”

  “Oh, like Bad Boy Ash is creative.”

  He shrugged. “If you don’t like it, princess, you’re welcome to change it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. I bet I know what you’re going to put as my contact name.”

  “And that is?”

  “Princess, obviously.”

  “Nice guess, but I was thinking something more like diced cabbage.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What? I like diced cabbage.” His tone was so playful, a hint of laughter beneath it, and this was the side of Ash I was falling for.

  “As a nickname, or the food?”

  “Both,” Ash replied.

  “Maybe I’ll start calling you diced cabbage then, diced cabbage.”

  “Oh, come on.” Ash leaned forward, putting on that sexy little smile. He knew he was irresistible, and he used it to his advantage every step of the way. “You can do better than that.”

  “Then I will. I’ll find a nickname that works for you.” I laughed.

  Ash leaned back to thread his thumbs through his belt loops. He looked down at me past his nose with a self-satisfied smirk. “Good luck.”

  9. (Lillian)

  Our editor was extremely pleased with the newest issue of the magazine. She went as far as to drop off a few more copies on my desk in the morning, exclaiming perfection.

  “And our readers just ate it up,” she said, “they absolutely devoured it. If possible, we’d like to do one more story, as a closing piece.”

  “Of course,” I said, scooping up the magazine copies into my bag.

  This was something I would be sending back home to my parents. It was something I could use to show them that I could be independent and handle myself in the Big Apple, all the while making a name for myself.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to brainstorm on what that might be then,” the editor said. “I expect a proposal by the end of today; do you think you can manage that?”

  “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

  Another story? I was thinking I was out of ideas. What other side of Ash could I show that I hadn’t shown already? I already captured him in his daily life, off-stage, and even preparing for a show, and the pictures that accompanied the first interview already covered the on-stage aspect. What was left for me to expose of him?

  I began to flip through the photos I had on my computer, hoping that one of them might hold the solution I was pining for. As I did this, my phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text from none other than Sebastian.

  I heard your story did well.

  There was no reason to respond to this message, I thought. So I didn’t even bother unlocking my phone; I just continued to scroll through the photos on my computer. I paused on a few of them where he was eating the tacos, the ones where he was making strange faces in the beauty store, the ones of him backstage giving me a wink as he pulled on his stage boots.

  Another buzz; another text.

  I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for dinner again tonight.

  A pause.

  I thought it would be good to talk.

  Another pause. I continued ignoring my phone.

  I think it's important that we discus
s that night. I know I left you in a weird place, and I hope you’ll forgive me for that.

  Then it was silent again, for a while. I continued scrolling through the photos. When my phone buzzed again, I was ready to throw it into my bag. I just didn’t want to deal with him until I understood my feelings—and certainly not during work. But then I saw who the last text was from…Ash.

  Hey, saw the issue. It came out really good!

  I smiled to myself and unlocked my phone, typing out a quick response.

  Yeah! Though I assume you think that’s thanks to your pretty face.

  You know it, cabbage~ ;)

  Haha, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, rockstar.

  Hey, I kind of like that nickname. Better than the last fifteen you tried for sure.

  Whaaaaat? You don’t like carrot stick?

  I don’t think anyone in their right mind would like carrot stick.

  I read over the text with a dumb grin on my face that I couldn’t wipe off. Then I went on scrolling through the photos. I was still at a loss on what I was going to do. Then my phone buzzed again.

  So…what are you up to? It was Ash.

  Trying to figure out a topic for another story. Oh, and dreading going home.

  Isn’t my ruggedly handsome face enough of a topic? And why’s that?

  Well, it has to have some form of concept other than just: Ash Bennett. And on the surface, it’s because I don’t want to see my roommate right now.

  Something bad happen between the two of you?

  …not really.

  Ah, got it. I won’t pry any further, I promise.

  A pause.

  Would you maybe want to go out then? Since you don’t want to go home, and we might as well celebrate your success.

  There was a quick moment of hesitation, but I knew I couldn’t refuse. I didn’t want to.

  Of course, that sounds lovely.

  I’ll pick you up around five then, that okay?

  Perfect.

  You know I am, princess.

  Oh, shut up, rockstar.

  As I put my phone away, I thought that maybe I might’ve had an idea for the last story. And I knew as I opened up a new document to write the proposal, that it was going to be my best one yet.

  10. (Lillian)

  Ash was a bit late picking me up. I was sitting on the curb by the time he pulled in, kicking at rocks on the side of the street and contemplating the pros and cons of just calling a cab and going home, maybe even taking the subway.

  But then I heard the familiar roar of his motorcycle, and when I lifted my gaze, I saw him rearing around the corner, skidding to a full stop in front of me.

  “Sorry I’m late. Had to pick something up.”

  I jumped up. I couldn’t help myself, but there was a twinkle in my eyes. “Oh, what is it?”

  “Haha, hold your horses.” Ash leaned forward and pressed a finger against my lip. “It’s a surprise. Here.” He handed me a helmet, which I adamantly slipped on, knowing better than to argue with him.

  I got onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapped my arms tight around him. I didn’t close my eyes as we drove off into the night.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, having to speak loudly over the wind whipping past us.

  “That is also a surprise,” he called back, and then we were both silent.

  The city passed by us, and I realized we were heading towards lower Manhattan, and then towards the Brooklyn Bridge. At this time of night, the traffic was heavy, but Ash just wove between the cars. Confident and with finesse. He continued into the residential districts of Brooklyn, passing by a park or two, and slowing down a bit.

  The streets here reminded of a small European city: the way that the buildings rose, their colors, the trees, and the parks, and the little bakeries. We stopped at one of these places to pick up croissants and pains au chocolat, then Ash drove us to a secluded little park with a single bench, and one great big tree overlooking it. He parked his motorcycle nearby and then gestured towards the bench.

  “Another one of my favorite little spots,” he said. “I thought it was something you might like.”

  I took it all in, spinning around. “It’s lovely,” I said. “Is this your surprise?”

  He laughed. “Not quite. I wanted something a little more than ‘Here’s a neighborhood you’ve never been to’ to celebrate your success.”

  He grabbed the bag I noticed was strapped to the back of his motorcycle. He drew out a picnic cloth and then several pieces of Tupperware.

  “Not exactly a midnight picnic,” he said, arranging sandwiches, sliced fruit, and the bread they had picked up from the bakery, “but I figured you wouldn’t want to stay out quite that late.”

  “Ash, this is…” No one had ever done anything like this for me before. Not even Sebastian during that summer so many years ago. I had no words to speak; my heart was beating loudly in my chest, so much so that I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my head. I felt like I might cry.

  “Now don’t go getting all emotional on me. That isn’t part of the program to seduce you.”

  Ash winked, nudging me with his shoulder. And though the words were meant to sound superficial, I could hear the care behind them. I wondered, for the first time, if perhaps Ash Bennett, lead singer of a rock band, was capable of not breaking my heart. Maybe we had a chance at happiness. Not that this would be the night I would discover this, though. Tonight was a night for picnics and walks and stolen kisses by the rivers.

  “Come on, sit down.” Ash seated himself on the blanket and patting the spot next to him.

  I did as he suggested and leaned on his shoulder for a bit of support after sitting down. He handed me a sandwich and then raised his own in toast.

  “To a successful series of photographic stories.”

  “To the wonderful people I met through them,” I added, nudging his sandwich with mine in mimicry of a Champagne toast.

  “Indeed.” He mimed sipping something from his sandwich, and then took a great big bite. “Sorry if they’re a little weird,” he said around a mouthful of food. “I made them with what I had on hand.”

  I was already discovering the wonderful and strange pairing of mustard, cucumber, soy sauce, and tofu.

  “Mmmm,” I said around the mouthful I had, I had to do my best to keep a straight face.

  Ash laughed. “You can be honest with me, you know. I won’t be offended. Besides, the croissants and fruit are truly the best part.”

  I set my sandwich aside. “Yeah, I think I may have to pass on this one in favor of those.”

  “Duly noted. These sandwiches were a failure.” He mimed taking notes, then grabbed a strawberry and offered it to me. “Care to tell me what you think of one of these?”

  I reached out to take it from him, but he wagged his finger at me. “Uh-uh, let me feed it to you, princess.”

  I blushed a deep red, probably as red as the strawberry he was holding. The way he was looking me turned from innocent to suggestive, and I couldn’t help but return the provocative look. My lips parted on their own accord, accepting the fruit he offered me, taking it in between my teeth and biting down into the juicy flesh.

  “How is it?” he asked, licking the juice that had dripped onto him off of his fingers, one by one, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

  “Good.” I could barely get the words out; my throat felt like it might close, and there was a deep pit of arousal churning in my stomach, warming me and making me feel light, as if alcohol was coursing through my veins.

  “Would you like another?” Ash plucked another strawberry from the group, but I knew I couldn’t take any more of this, so I grabbed one for myself.

  “Indeed.” Ash’s voice was low, and his following laugh was a deep rumble, something sexy, a little bit primal even. “Want to try a croissant?” he asked, offering the bag to me.

  I snatched it one from inside and refused to go through any more of whatever this was in any sort
of public setting. This was clearly the problem with rock singers: they had no shame whatsoever. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t enjoying it, of course.

  We finished off the rest of the good parts of the picnic, and then Ash stood up and offered his hand. I grabbed it and noted the roughness of his calloused palms beneath mine, and then he pulled me up to meet his chest. We stood there for a moment with our hands interlocked, chests touching, looking into each other’s eyes, and then at each other’s lips. And when Ash was leaning down, I thought that he might lean down all the way and kiss me.

  “I know a better place to do the sorts of things you’re thinking of,” he whispered, and I shivered, but not from the cold. “Will you follow me, Lillian?”

  “Do you have to ask?” I meant for the words to be coy. Instead, they came out breathy, unsure, aroused.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Ash quickly cleaned up the picnic and locked his motorcycle to the park bench.

  “Come with me, if you will.” He took my hand again, his palm dwarfing mine, then he led me down the street to the water’s edge.

  Here, the light was blurred, dancing on the water like the lanterns of fairies. The city seemed far away with the apartments behind us, and the lamps lit the brick walk feeling like something out of a time-frozen enchanted city.

  My heart was beating hard in my chest from the earlier interaction, and I kept on remembering the taste of strawberries in my mouth as the thought of them lingered in my mind. I kept replaying the scene of Ash’s finger on my lip, and the way he looked at me.

  His deep eyes were as expansive as the universe around us. He leaned in then, and I thought for a moment that he was going to kiss me right then and then, and instead, he moved to my ear. His breath was warm as he whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

  I didn’t expect that he would ask me or be the type to. I just thought he did whatever he pleased, took whatever he wanted. And more, I thought he could hear my beating heart and take my fast breath as sign enough to know that I’d let him do anything he wanted to me.