Page 84 of Saving the Rockstar

Dylan preened, looking enormously pleased with himself. Then Mason, rolling his eyes fondly, hooked an arm through Dylan's and began to tug him away.

"Come on, lover boy," he said, his gruff voice laced with affection. "Let's give these two some privacy. I believe I promised you ice cream if you managed to pull this off."

Dylan's eyes lit up, his grin turning sly. "Rocky road?"

"Rocky road," Mason confirmed, a small, indulgent smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I watched them go, something warm and soft unfurling in my chest.

As the last of the crowd trickled out, Asher turned to me, his expression soft and vulnerable. "Let's get out of here," he said, tangling our fingers together once more. "I think we have some catching up to do."

I grinned, letting him lead me backstage, to the quiet, private dressing room that had been set aside for his use. The moment the door closed behind us, he was in my arms, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that was decidedly less chaste than the one we had shared on stage.

I groaned into the kiss, my hands sliding up his back, tangling in his hair. I had missed this, missed him, with an ache that went soul-deep.

When we finally surfaced for air, both of us panting and flushed, Asher pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes fluttering closed. We stayed like that for a long time, trading kisses andwhispered words of love, of devotion. Relearning each other’s bodies, recommitting to each other, in the quiet, sacred space of that little room.

When we finally emerged, hand in hand and grinning like fools, it was to a barrage of notifications, of alerts and messages that had both our phones buzzing incessantly.

Vivian was the first to call, her voice breathless with excitement. "Have you seen the response? The video of your press conference, of that kiss... it's gone viral. People are loving it, loving you."

I felt a thrill of hope, of joy, zing through me. "Really? They are?"

"They are," Vivian confirmed, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "The response has been overwhelmingly positive. And Asher, your ticket sales have gone through the roof. Every remaining date on your tour is sold out, and venues are clamoring to add more shows."

Asher let out a whoop of joy, spinning me around in a giddy, exuberant circle. "You hear that? We really did it."

As he chatted with Vivian about the logistics of potentially extending the tour, I couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed in just a few short hours. This morning, I had been drowning in doubt and hurt. Now, I was filled with hope and love, excited for the future we would build together.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of interviews and photo ops. Everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece of us, wanted to share in our joy, our triumph.

Chapter 27: Asher

The evening air was crisp and cool as Jared and I made our way into the upscale restaurant, hand in hand. We were meeting Mason and Dylan for a double date, a celebration of sorts after the whirlwind of the past few weeks.

Since my public declaration of love for Jared, life had been a beautiful, chaotic blur. Interviews, photo shoots, sold-out shows - it seemed the whole world was clamoring for a piece of our story, our love.

As the hostess led us to our table, I caught sight of Mason and Dylan, already seated and engrossed in what appeared to be a spirited discussion. As we drew closer, snippets of their conversation floated back to us, and I had to bite back a grin.

"...can't believe you hogged the covers all night," Dylan was grumbling, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. "I was freezing my ass off, thanks to you."

Mason scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, maybe if you didn't kick them off every five minutes, you wouldn't have that problem.”

"I do not kick!" Dylan protested, his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.

"Oh, please," Mason scoffed. "You're like a tornado in bed. I'm surprised I didn't wake up with bruises. Besides, you're the one who insisted on sleeping with the window open, Mr. 'I need fresh air to function.' Not my fault you can't handle a little breeze."

Dylan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "A little breeze? More like a fucking Arctic gale. And don't even get me started on your snoring. I'm surprised the neighbors didn'tcall the cops, thinking there was a crime happening in our bedroom."

Mason's eyebrows shot up, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Ourbedroom, huh? Moving a little fast there, aren't we? And besides, you seemed to sleep just fine once you decided to use me as your own personal body pillow."

Dylan flushed, his ears turning an impressive shade of red. "Shut up," he mumbled. "You're warm, okay? And comfortable. Like a big, grumpy teddy bear."

Mason's expression softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "A teddy bear, huh? I guess I can live with that. As long as I'myourteddy bear."

Dylan's head snapped up, his gaze locking with Mason's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them crackling with tension and something deeper, something tender.

"Always," Dylan said at last, his voice soft but sure. "You're always gonna be mine, Mase. No matter what."

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