Page 16 of Saving the Rockstar

Ethan nodded, looking a bit lighter than when we'd first arrived. "Yeah, thanks."

"Anytime." Asher clapped him on the shoulder before stepping away to answer his phone.

I tried to focus my attention elsewhere, give Asher privacy. But I couldn't help sneaking a glance at his face, noticing how his eyes crinkled at the corners as he talked to Dylan. He looked relaxed, unguarded. Like he could fully be himself.

After a few minutes, Asher said his goodbyes and hung up, sliding his phone into his pocket. When he turned, he caught me watching him.

"You and Dylan are very close, huh?" I said.

"The closest. Dylan and I met freshman year of college." Asher's smile was fond, nostalgic. "He was the first person who made me feel like there wasn't something wrong with me."

I frowned. "There's nothing wrong with you, Ash."

The nickname slipped out without thought again. But Asher didn't seem to mind. His smile widened fractionally.

"I'm starting to believe that," he said softly. "But back then? I was so far in the closet I was finding Christmas presents."

Surprised laughter bubbled out of me. "Sounds like Dylan was a good friend to have in your corner."

"The best." Asher huffed a quiet laugh. "God, I remember this one time, sophomore year. I'd stupidly agreed to go on a date with this girl, Becca. Thought maybe I could force myself to feel something for her. Anyway, it was a disaster."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"I was so nervous I spilled red wine all over her white dress. Then I started rambling about the homoerotic subtext of Shakespeare's sonnets. Needless to say, she didn't ask for a second date. I was pretty torn up about it. Not because I liked her, but because it felt like proof that I would never benormal." He made air quotes, rolling his eyes.

Sobering, I nodded. I could only imagine how much that would mess with his head.

"So Dylan, bless him, decided to cheer me up with a guys' night. We got way too drunk off cheap vodka and played Mario Kart until the sun came up. And at some point, I just broke down. Told him everything. How I hated myself for not being able to change. How scared I was all the time."

Asher swallowed hard, lost in the memory. "You know what he said to me? He said, 'Ash, you're my best friend. Andyou're perfect, just as you are. I wouldn't change a single thing about you.' Then he hugged me while I cried like a baby. He's always had my back."

I smiled. "I'm glad you have him." And I meant it, even as some small, unexamined part of me whispered that I wished I could be that person for Asher. The one he turned to, confided in. Trusted.

We lapsed into silence as I drove us back into the city. I felt like I was seeing Asher more clearly now, the man behind the rock star mask. And I liked him more with each layer that peeled away.

"I wish I could be open about supporting causes like this," Asher said abruptly, waving a hand back toward the youth center as it receded from view. "Using my platform to help kids like Ethan... it's important to me."

I frowned. "So why don't you? Your fans would probably love to see you involved in charity work."

Asher sighed heavily. "My label has made it clear they think it would hurt my image to be too vocal about LGBT stuff. They've strongly 'encouraged' me to keep a low profile when it comes to activism."

Anger simmered in my blood. "That's bullshit. They just don't want people to think you’re gay."

"Bingo," Asher said grimly. "I've tried to push back, but my career, my music. It's all in their hands."

"For now," I said, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror. "But that won't always be true. Someday, you'll be running the show. And then you can be as loud about this stuff as you want."

Slowly, a smile broke over his face, brighter than the goddamn sun. "I like the way you think."

"That's what you pay me for. Sage advice and a pretty face." I flashed him a crooked grin. It was a risk, flirting like that. But I couldn't regret it. Not when it made Asher laugh like he'd never tasted anything so sweet.

That laugh danced in my head for the rest of the day, popping up at odd moments. When I was standing against the wall at the meet and greet that night, scanning the crowd for potential threats. When I watched Asher charm a long line of eager fans. And especially when I noticed the way one fan, a tall drink of water with biceps that strained his shirt sleeves, leaned in a little too close as Asher signed his copy.

"I'm a huge fan," the beefcake purred, smiling in a way I could only describe as sultry. "I'd love to get to know you better. Any chance you'd want to get dinner with me sometime?"

Asher blinked, clearly taken aback by the overt flirtation. It was a line he didn't let fans cross.

"That's so sweet of you to ask," he stammered. "But I'm afraid my schedule is just crazy right now. This tour is pretty much my whole life."

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