Page 27 of Saving the Rockstar

I peeked out from behind the pillow. "But how do I know if I can trust him, or myself?"

Dylan's expression softened. "Ash, I've seen the way Jared looks at you. That man would take a bullet for you, and not just because it's his job."

I leaned into him, letting his solid warmth ground me. "But what if Jared didn't really want it? What if I pushed him into something he's not ready for?"

Dylan chuckled. "Ash. My dude. From what you've told me, Jared is a grown-ass man who knows his own mind. If he kissed you back, it's because he wanted to."

I bit my lip, doubt still churning in my gut. "But he's straight. Or at least, he thought he was. What if this is just curiosity for him? Experimentation? I don't think I could handle being his bi-curious phase."

"Okay, first of all? Just because Jared's only dated women before doesn't mean he can't be genuinely attracted to you." Dylan gave me a gentle squeeze. "And second, Ash, the way you've described him looking at you, talking to you, that's not curiosity, babe. That's desire. Real, honest-to-god longing."

A tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest. I wanted so desperately to believe him. To trust that Jared could actually want me the way I wanted him. But the scars Carter had left ran deep.

Dylan seemed to sense the direction of my thoughts. He shifted to face me, his eyes unusually serious.

"Asher. I know your baggage with Carter did a number on you. I know it's hard to trust your own instincts, your own heart, after what that bastard put you through. But you can't let him win. You can't let his poison ruin your shot at something real, something good."

"I'm scared," I admitted in a whisper. "I'm scared of being hurt again. Of being... not enough."

"Oh, honey." Dylan pulled me into a tight hug, rocking me gently. "You are so much more than enough. You're fucking incredible. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

A wet laugh punched out of me. "You have to say that. You're my best friend."

"Damn right I am. And as your best friend, it's my sacred duty to tell you the truth, even when you're being a dumbass." He pulled back, giving me a crooked grin. "And the truth is, Jared would be an idiot not to want you. Now, here's what you're going to do. You're going to march your ass back to that room when you wake up tomorrow and talk to your man. Like adults do in healthy, communicative relationships."

I made a face. "Ugh. Adulting. Do I have to?"

"Yes, you have to." Dylan smirked. "And then, when you've used your words like a big boy, you're going to climb that gorgeous tree of a man like a koala and ride him into the sunset."

I choked, my face flushing hot. "Jesus, Dylan!"

He cackled, unrepentant. "What? Like you haven't thought about it. I've seen the way you ogle his bulge when you think no one's looking."

I sputtered, shoving at his shoulder. "I do notogle."

"Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, babe." Dylan waggled his eyebrows. "Just promise you'll give me all the dirty details later. Spare no detail, no matter how sordid."

"I hate you so much." But I was laughing, the tightness in my chest easing with every shaking breath.

As we settled into his bed, the adrenaline of my confession began to wear off, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. But despite the late hour, Dylan was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Okay, but like, imagine this," he said, propping himself up on one elbow to face me. "You and Jared, on stage at Madison Square Garden. The crowd is going wild, screaming your name. And then, in the middle of your big power ballad, you just grab him and lay one on him. Full on, romance movie cover, dip-and-everything kiss."

I chuckled, shoving at his shoulder. "Right, because that wouldn't be a PR nightmare at all. I can see the headlines now:Asher Roth Mauls Bodyguard in Front of Thousands, Fans Traumatized."

Dylan waved a dismissive hand. "Please, your fans would eat that shit up. They're all horny for you anyway, might as well give them a show."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "You're the worst. Why do I tell you anything?"

"Because I'm your best friend and you love me." he grinned, unrepentant. "Okay, but what about this. Candlelit dinner on the roof of some swanky hotel. Roses everywhere, champagne on ice. You slow dance under the stars, all romantic-like, and then, bam! Fireworks. Literally and figuratively."

"Dylan. My dude. Have you been reading Harlequin romances again?"

He sniffed primly. "I'll have you know that romance novels are a perfectly respectable form of literature. And they've taught me everything I know about grand gestures and wooing."

We lapsed into comfortable silence. As I felt myself starting to drift, Dylan's voice pulled me back from the edge of sleep.

"Hey, Ash? Remember that time in college, when you were freaking out about that showcase for the record label scouts?"

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