Page 34 of Saving the Rockstar

I hesitated, weighing my words. I'd never been good at this part, the sharing. But something about Asher made me want to try. To peel back the armor, strip myself bare.

"The hardest part wasn't the things we saw," I said slowly. "The violence, the death. I mean, don't get me wrong, that was hell. But you expect that, going in. You know you're going to see shit that will haunt you."

Asher made an encouraging sound, a gentle prompt to continue.

"No, the hardest part was coming home. Trying to fit back into a world that had no idea, that could never understand. Everyone expects you to just flip a switch. To shake it off, be normal again." I shook my head, a bitter twist to my lips. "But you can't. You're not the same person you were before. You've seen too much, done too much."

"And trying to pretend otherwise, it eats at you," Asher said quietly. "Like poison in your veins, rotting you from the inside out."

He stood, stretching languorously, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of toned skin. I averted my eyes quickly, heat prickling up the back of my neck.

Chapter 11: Asher

I poured it all into the music. Every longing glance, every charged moment, every word left unspoken. It was the only way I knew how to make sense of the riot in my chest, the ache in my bones.

In Bucharest, I debuted the song. Just me and my guitar, stripped down and raw. I could feel Jared's eyes on me from the wings, that laser focus that always seemed to zero in on my soul.

I closed my eyes, letting the words pour out of me. A confession, a prayer.

"I see you standing there,

Shadow in the light.

You chase away my nightmares,

Make everything alright…"

For a suspended moment, the arena was silent. A held breath, a collective pause.

Then, thunder. Applause crashing over me in waves, the roar of the crowd a physical thing. I blinked my eyes open, dazed, my heart pounding.

They liked it. They felt it, the truth of it.

I risked a glance offstage, to where I knew Jared stood. He met my gaze, and the look in his eyes... Proud. Hungry. Like he wanted to devour me whole, audience be damned.

I shivered under the weight of it, heat licking up my spine. I mumbled my thanks to the crowd, then stumbled offstage on wobbly legs.

Jared caught me before I could trip over a cable, his hands strong and steady on my hips. I sagged into him, the adrenaline rush giving way to boneless relief.

He swallowed hard, his eyes roving over my face like he'd never seen me before. "Asher, that was..."

"Awful?" I joked weakly. "Humiliating? The worst career move since the Macarena?"

Jared huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Try incredible. Breathtaking." His hands flexed on my hips, sending sparks skittering across my skin.

He pulled me into a hug then, tight and fierce. I melted into it, into him, relishing the solid heat of his body against mine.

It felt like coming home, like finding shelter in a storm. I never wanted to leave the circle of his arms.

But then someone cleared their throat pointedly, and we sprang apart like scalded cats. Dylan stood a few feet away, his eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk playing about his lips.

"Well, well, well. Don't you two look cozy."

I felt my face flame, my stomach swooping with embarrassment. Jared, though, just looked defiant. Unapologetic. Like he'd happily hug me in front of a thousand people and not give a single fuck. Something warm and sweet unfurled in my chest at the thought.

In the days that followed, that feeling only grew. The little things, the subtle shifts... they added up like lines in a melody, building to a crescendo.

The way Jared's hand would linger on my shoulder before a show, a gentle squeeze of reassurance. The snacks he'd slip me after long days of interviews and meet-and-greets, myfavorite protein bars and fizzy water. The soft smiles across crowded rooms, the charged glances when no one else was looking.

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