Cam had been saying he’d introduce me to Asher Smith for a while now, but our timing had always been off—until now. Reality hit hard as I watched him approach. I gripped Aya’s hand, unable to slow my breathing.
She wiggled her fingers enough to return circulation and then leaned against me, her head on my shoulder, giving me the comfort I needed to calm down.
“You just faced down a crowd of how many thousand people?” she asked.
“They didn’t matter. Not like this.”
She sighed. “This is one on one, not all those fans you have to convince. This is easy.”
Sure, easy for her to say. She wasn’t supposed to have a conversation with Asher Smith. The Asher Smith. Oh, holy hell…the guy was on the bus, shaking hands with Cam and Chuck. I rose, tugging Aya up with me, unable or unwilling to let go of her hand.
Asher strode across the bus like he owned it—probably because he’d spent more of his life on one of these than I’d been alive. Like Cam, he wore black motorcycle boots. The shiny silver chains jangled with each step. His jeans were faded and worn—they looked comfortable, not designer. His pin-stripe button-up shirt was untucked, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His face was clean-shaven and his brown hair a tumble of waves—as if he’d been running his fingers through it, not using the product guys my age preferred. His intense eyes bored into mine, causing my palm in Aya’s to sweat.
“Mr. Smith—”
“Asher,” he said, a faint smile at the corner of his eyes and his mouth.
“A-Asher…” My tongue seemed to tie.
Aya stepped forward, her fingers gently squeezing mine. “I hear from Cam that your son likes to ride horses,” she said with a smile. “My name is Aya Aldringham.”
Asher shifted his focus to Aya, giving me a moment to breathe. “Mason does. He picked it up a few years back.”
Aya began to recount a visit to a horse farm in Nepal, causing Asher to chuckle. “I’ll have to bring Mason out to meet you tomorrow. He’s about your age.”
“That would be lovely,” Aya said. “I’d love another friend to hang out with.”
“Aya’s the beauty and the charm of this duo,” Cam said with a chuckle. “She’s been a pleasure to have aboard, though she’s been off at MIT doing some fancy robotics. But you gotta hear about her book choice, man.” He turned to Aya. “Go on, tell him what you’re reading.”
Aya gauged my reaction before explaining her current historical fiction book choice to Asher freaking Smith. She was talking book club with the world’s best lyricist.
Surreal.
He smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming. “Dahlia is going to love you.” He leaned in closer to Aya, bending a little from the waist to make the moment more private between them. “My wife’s an author. She got me into this Galileo series.”
Aya gasped, eyes wide, as she named the book.
“That’s the one.”
“Oh, I’m desperate for the sequel, but it doesn’t come out until next month.”
“It’s better than the first,” Asher said, his tone confident.
“No way,” Aya scoffed.
She scoffed at Asher Smith.
His eyes twinkled as he met my gaze and winked. He began to extoll the merits of the first book, causing Chuck to chime in. Seemed like they’d all read it but me.
And just like that, my tension eased. It wasn’t gone—it shimmered over my shoulders and into my neck—but I could think again. I owed Aya, big time, for not letting me embarrass myself in front of my hero.
Asher seemed aware of my return to functioning status because he turned toward me when the book debate finally subsided. “Are you interested in signing with a label?” he asked.
I blinked at him, shock rocketing through me. I’d hoped for this, of course. But the reality—and with Asher as my mentor…
“If you are, I’d like you to consider my company,” he continued. “We’re based out of Seattle, which could be tricky since you’re in Austin, but I think we can work something out.”
My shock turned into bubbles of euphoria. Much as I wanted to tell him hell yes right here, I understood enough of the business to know one of my parents needed to sign off on the agreement. And it wouldn’t be my father. “I need to discuss that with my parents.”
Steve stepped forward, nervous but firm. “I can say that your parents will support this decision.” His gaze met mine, softening in a way that caused my pulse to ratchet up. “If that’s something you want.”
I swallowed thickly, my hand trembling in Aya’s.
“I don’t have a band or…”
Asher nodded. “That’s something I can help you with.”
Asher will help me choose my bandmates? I felt lightheaded.
“Take the night. Talk it over with Cam, your folks. And don’t make the decision lightly,” Asher said. “Touring can eat you up.” His gaze darkened. “It’s why I like to stick close to my home base these days. I’m not all that interested in living on a bus and in a bubble of my bandmates, roadies, and staff.” His eyes fell to where I gripped Aya’s hand, and his gaze softened. “It’s also damn near impossible to keep normal relationships. They suffer.”
A chill swept over me as I inched closer to Aya.
With that, Asher turned back to Cam, asking him about a guitar maker in Austin. J. Olsen crafted them in a shop off of Sixth Street. Cam knew the maker, and he, Chuck, and Asher moved forward in the bus, leaving Aya and me in the back.
“Did that just happen?” I asked.
She smiled, the brightness seeming almost brittle, and her eyes shining, even in the low lights. “You’re going to reach your every goal, Superstar.”
I realized later that Aya had understood what Asher said and what it meant for us. Just as she understood that, despite all of that, I was desperate to take his offer.
19
Aya
All that night, Nash vibrated with excitement, unable to sleep, pacing the suite’s living room, on the phone with his mother and grandfather. We were at one of the Syads’ hotel properties, and Nash had given Cam the penthouse, so we were a floor below, in a gorgeous suite with three bedrooms. It must have been five times larger than the average Manhattan apartment, with a mix of modern, geometric rugs and antique furniture. I fell asleep on one of the sofas, but I woke in my bed the next morning, a blanket tossed over me.
After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I changed into a clean outfit. Then I opened the door, and Nash practically accosted me.
“I signed the contract,” he said, eyes burning with excitement.
“Oh! Well, great.” I smiled as I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing his excitement would coat my worries.
“I had to tell you. I can’t believe this is real, Ay. I can’t…” He trailed off, his eyes wide, the dark circles under them telling.
I touched his cheek. “You need to get some rest before the show tonight,” I murmured as I led him toward his bedroom. He followed, and now that he’d told me his news, the last of the adrenaline seemed to evaporate, leaving him exhausted. He settled on the bed, and I tugged off his sneakers.