Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (33 page)

He steps back from the mic, and the crowd goes wild. I’m glued to my spot. Nothing and no one can pry me away.

Clay takes a step forward, a single light hits him, and he solos the opening bars. It’s the same melody he played for us at the lake, the day of Ash’s birthday, and I know I’m going to love it. My eyes drift back to Ash’s. They’re on me and heated tingles race across my skin. Listening to Clay, feeling Ash’s eyes as they run over the length of me, my heart pounds with the electricity running between us. Ash’s foot starts tapping the ground, his hips sway slightly, and he reaches for the mic when it’s his cue.

I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and my whole body shivers.

“Oh my God,” Emma mumbles.

“What?” I say without looking at her, my eyes glued to Ash.

“I knew y’all had something going, but I didn’t know it was like that.”

“What do you mean?” I glance at her and she’s fanning herself.

“He’s got it bad for you, and you’ve got it bad for him. Just watching the two of you looking at each other . . . wow, I thought your panties had caught fire. I’m happy for you, Av.” She squeezes my arm.

“Thanks.” Every part of me feels warm and tingly, suffused with a happy glow. I’m hoping that the direction we’ve been moving in is indicative of our future together.

Ash licks his lips and looks down at his guitar as he works it, just as Clay walks over to stand next to him. Together the two of them play, and the smile they share is one that holds a lifetime of friendship. It’s easy to see how fluid they are together, but at the same time, it’s easy to see how they’re so different. Ash is dark, acoustic, and the melody. Clay is light, electric, and the beat.

The two of them separate and he steps back up to the center of the stage. He closes his eyes, rests his mouth against the mic, and I think it’s one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. All thoughts move to his remarkable mouth. A mouth that’s been on mine and no one else’s in this room. I have beautifully intimate knowledge of how full and warm his lips feel pressed up against mine, the brush of his cheek against mine, what he tastes like, and what it feels like to be devoured by him.

I look at my phone and check the time.

I’m ready for this to be over.

I’m ready to take him home.

THE SHOW LASTS exactly three hours, and from start to finish, I give it my all and pour my heart on the stage. In Phoenix, I know that from a technical standpoint, we performed a spectacular show, one of the best ever, but tonight . . . I felt it. Tonight was off the charts! Tonight was one of the most memorable shows I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s because of the break, maybe it’s because of the music, or maybe it’s because of her, but for the first time in a long time, I feel good. I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be, doing what I do best.

Glancing to the right, I see Avery and Emma talking just behind the wall keeping them backstage and out of sight. I’ve never had someone waiting for me after a show before, at least not one that I’ve wanted, and it feels so damn good. I’ve also never wanted anyone as much as I want her. Right now, right this minute . . . no, make that right this second.

She’s wearing the same Blue Horizons t-shirt from the night I met her, a tiny little flowy skirt, and this time, black cowboy boots. Her gorgeous legs, her tiny sexy curves, and her wild curly hair all look like perfection to me.

My hands grip the guitar, wishing they were gripping her.

For the last month, I’ve felt the need to handle her delicately. Knowing what I assumed about her past, I’ve always approached her as if she’s made of glass, but tonight I feel like a Brahman bull that’s been let loose in a china shop. Using my hands, fingers, tongue—whatever’s necessary—I want to watch as her eyes drift shut, her skin flushes pink, and she breaks into a thousand little pieces. Then, one by one, I’ll put her back together, me and only me.

Just thinking about it sends blood roaring through all parts of my body.

It’s time to end this show.

Looking back out to the crowd, I smile and the cheering intensifies. “I wanna thank y’all for coming out tonight. I know this show was spontaneous and very last minute, but the best nights usually are, right?” I wink and the crowd explodes, causing me to laugh. “Clay, the band, and myself . . . we’ve had an amazing time, and I think we should plan on doing this again real soon.” I pause and look over to Clay as the cheering continues; he too is smiling from ear to ear. “Y’all be safe traveling home tonight . . . thanks again and take care!” I tip my hat, unstrap the guitar and hold it high as I wave goodbye. The band breaks into our exit ensemble, and relief sets in that it’s over.

Walking over to Clay, he gives me a knowing look and smirks at me. He knows I had fun tonight, and we’re back to where we used to be. He also knows that I’m headed straight for my girl. Shaking my head, I hug him tight, and hand him my guitar.

Moving more quickly than probably necessary, I walk straight off the stage and straight for Avery. Every part of me feels alive and bursting at the seams. My eyes zero in on her, and nothing else matters. No one stops me; no one even tries.

Anyone who tells you that they haven’t thought about their life and what they want out of it is lying. Most at some point will give you the usual, “Sure, one day I plan on getting married and I wouldn’t mind having a few kids,” but no one really thinks about when this might happen. It’s always down the road or later on in life. I too used to have these thoughts, and they were never “if” I was going to get married, they seemed to lean more toward “when.” Suddenly, the “when” seems within reach and that excites me more than it frightens me.

With her eyes on me, they grow large as she sees the expression on my face, and she blushes. She knows what’s coming, and damn, if I can’t get to her fast enough.

Slamming into her, my arms wrap around her and pick her up off the floor as my mouth crashes down, locking us together from head to toe. Her hand lands on my hat to keep it from falling off and her legs wrap around my waist.

Backstage, cheering erupts around us, and I just don’t care. She smells clean, like strawberries, and she tastes like candy. Dipping my tongue into her mouth, I just can’t get close enough.

“We need to leave,” I mumble into her lips.

“You need to shower.” She scrunches up her nose.

She giggles and I pull back to stare into her gorgeous face. Damn, she takes my breath away every single time.

“You joining me?” I ask with pure intent in my eyes.

She tips my hat back a little, tightens her legs around me, and leans forward to press a soft kiss against my lips.

“Yes.”

ASH HAD DRIVEN us to the show, so as soon as it ended, we bee-lined for the exit and ran hand in hand to his truck in the parking lot.

“You were amazing tonight,” I say as he opens my door and helps me in.

“You think so?” He gives me a lopsided smile, telling me he already knows he was.

“I know so,” I grin back at him.

Shutting the door, he jogs around to his side, climbs in, and quickly drives us out the back entrance. His hand reaches over the console, finds mine, and brings it back to his leg. My fingers dig into his thigh and he tenses under my touch. No words are said, and within fifteen minutes, we’re at his condo, up the elevator, and walking through the front door. He leans back, slamming it shut, and Whiskey runs over. Both of us ignore him. Both of us know exactly what the other wants.

“I need to touch you, bad,” his voice hoarse and filled with yearning.

My eyes drop down and look at his hands. They’re tight-fisted next to his sides. So many moments with his hands flash before me: the gentle way he holds my hand, how he tucks my hair behind my ear, and after tonight, how he fingers the strings of the guitar.

I’m not afraid of his hands. I’m infatuated with them.

“I’m not going to hurt you . . . ever,” he says, watching me, mistaking my silence for something else.

“I know.” And I do, with complete certainty, that I never need to be afraid of him.

“Please, Avery.” He takes a step closer to me and ducks his head down so the rim of his hat rests against my forehead. His fingers just barely run over the fabric of my skirt at my hip before he places both of his hands in mine. The heat from his body blankets over me, warming me, and my skin flushes in response.

“Okay,” I whisper. A small gasp escapes him and his body stiffens.

“You need to tell me. Tell me where I can touch you and where I can’t. Because, Avery, darlin’, I want to touch you everywhere.” His head tilts and his lips skim over my neck. Goosebumps run across my skin.

“Ava,” I whisper, stepping even closer to him.

“What?” he pulls back, confused.

“I want you to call me Ava.” Releasing his hand, I grab his hat and toss it onto the hall table. His hair is wet with sweat and sticks up everywhere.

He licks his lips. “Why? I know your real name now.”

My hand drifts over the side of his face, down his neck, and settles on his chest. His heart is pounding through his shirt, and it feels so vibrant, so strong. “Because when I’m with you, I don’t feel like the Avery I’ve become. I really like how I feel with you, I feel like I’m me, and I haven’t truly been me for a long time.”

He regards me for a few seconds as he thinks about this, his blue eyes searching mine. “Ava it is then.”

Bending over, his hand finds my calf and slides up to the back of my knee. He lifts it, grabs the heel of my boot, and pulls it off, dropping it to the floor. Grabbing my other knee, he does the same, and kicks his off next to mine.

Standing in front of me, I look him over from head to toe. The t-shirt pulls just enough across the muscles of his chest to highlight his strength, and it tapers down to show off his narrow hips that just barely hold up these black jeans. Heat rushes up to the edge of my skin.

“Ash is a good name for you,” my words barely a whisper. His fingers touch my chin, and he tilts my head back so he can watch my lips. “Whenever I’m near you, I feel like I’m burning up from the inside out . . . only to be left as ashes.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes darken and drink me in. I suck in a breath of air reminding myself to breathe.