Don't Read in the Closet volume one (38 page)

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BOOK: Don't Read in the Closet volume one
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“Yeah, Jeremy,
my guitar player, actually came up with our name when we first hooked up.”

“How did you
guys meet?” Elizabeth asked. “I know from the musicians who’ve played for me,
it can be so hard finding the right chemistry with folks.”

Ash reclined in
the chair, draping one arm over the back to get comfortable. “It took me a long
time before I found my boys. I grew up in L.A., and I got into playing music in
high school. Well, I had played guitar before that, but it wasn’t until high
school that I started singing, and even then, my first time wasn’t exactly my
choice. I was in a band with some guys at school and there was a Battle of
Bands going on down at the beach, so we thought we’d enter.

“We were about
to go on and our singer had disappeared on us. We couldn’t find him anywhere,
and it turned out he’d met some girl that afternoon and decided getting laid
was more important than the competition. But hey, we were all seventeen,
eighteen years-old and if any of us had the chance at getting laid or playing
music, it would’ve been a damn empty stage.”

Jackson and
Elizabeth interrupted with soft laughter.

Ash smiled at
them, but also noticed how stony Clint sat. He cleared his throat as he began
again. “So we either had to hit the stage without him or pull out of the
competition. I was the only one who knew all the lyrics to the two songs we were
doing, so I got drafted to sing.” He chuckled softly. “We just figured if I
sucked, we’d play our instruments harder to drown me out. But it turned out I
have a pretty decent voice.”

“You have a
very nice voice,” Jackson said.

Ash looked at
him, stunned by the sudden compliment. “Thanks.”

“So did you win
the competition?” Elizabeth asked.

Ash slowly
turned his gaze away from Jackson’s to her. “No, but we came in third, which I
didn’t think was too bad for a band of high school guys. But it was that
competition that made me realize I wanted to be a professional musician, and
even more than that, I wanted to be a singer. I
wanted
to be the guy at
the front of the stage, drawing the people in, throwing out all I had in my
music and voice for them.

“After high
school, I bounced around from band to band, worked odd jobs,
took
some singing lessons. That went on for a few years,
then
when I was twenty-one, I met Jeremy and Chad, my bass player. They were already
friends and they happened to catch a show I was doing with the band I was in at
the time. Both of them loved my voice and performance style, so they approached
me to see if I’d be interested in singing for them. I instantly clicked with
them and ended up leaving the other band for them.

“Chad knows how
to play drums too, so we decided to go with just the three of us, him on drums,
Jeremy on guitar, and I took over bass. We wanted to find a drummer, just
couldn’t find someone we melded with. Then at one of our shows, Devin was a
bouncer in the club. After we finished our set, he came up to us to tell us he
liked our sound. We got talking and it turned out he was a drummer, but he’d
given up music a few months before because he wasn’t seeing it going anywhere
and he needed to put more time into making some real money. We asked if he’d
like to jam sometime, and the rest is history. After a couple years of playing
together, we managed to land our deal and here we are.”

Elizabeth spoke
as he finished. “That’s wonderful you all found each other like that.”

Ash nodded.
“Yeah, I played with a lot of guys, but you know what they say, when you find
the one, you know it.”

Elizabeth
giggled. “Isn’t that the truth?”

Ash turned to
Jackson. “So how’d you get here? I think I remember reading about you winning
some radio station contest, or something.”

Jackson took a
drink of his beer before answering. “Yeah, pretty much. A local station was
holding an
American Idol
kind of contest at a fair. It was just for fun,
no big prize other than bragging rights, but my family and friends pushed me to
enter. It turned out a talent scout was there for a big Nashville label. I won
the contest, and he walked up to me and asked, ‘How you would like to be
famous?’ I said, ‘Hell yes,’ and here I am.” He smiled at Ash. “Guess I did things
the easy way compared to you.”

“Nothing wrong
with that,” Ash said. “But I like the road I took. I would’ve been embarrassed
as all hell if my claim to fame was through winning a big karaoke contest.” He
winced inside as soon as the words left his mouth. Why the hell could he
realize a fuck-up immediately after it happened, but he couldn’t catch it
before?

Jackson stared
at him in silence for a moment. “It wasn’t a karaoke contest. Everyone might’ve
been covering other people’s songs, but we still had to put our own touches on
them and really perform them. And no one had a monitor feeding them the words.”

“Yeah, but
that’s still essentially karaoke, right?” Ash said. “It’s not like anyone was
doing their own original music.”

“Because that
wasn’t what the contest was for. Just because they were covering other people’s
songs doesn’t mean they weren’t talented.”

“I didn’t say
they weren’t talented. Just not very original.”

Jackson turned
in his chair to fully face him. “So what you’re saying is that since I got
discovered from winning that kind of contest, I’m not original?”

Ash shifted in
his chair to look directly at Jackson. “You’re recording your own music now, so
the answer to that is obvious. Now it’s everyone else doing karaoke of your
songs.”

“But I just
wasn’t original back then, is that right?”

“Well, I didn’t
know you back then, so I can’t say for sure, but since you entered a glorified
karaoke contest, I’m guessing not. But you’ve come a long way since then, so
it’s all good. Damn, I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about this.”

“I’m not
sensitive about it. You just have a shitty way of talking about things.”

Ash’s voice
rose
a notch. “I have a shitty way? I’m not the one-”

Elizabeth’s
voice lifted over Ash’s. “Okay! Gentlemen, I think I’m going to call it a night
and go back to my hotel. I’ve got an early rehearsal time tomorrow.” She looked
to Clint, who was already on his feet. “What about you?”

“Hell yes, I’m
leaving. Thanks for opening up the escape.”

Jackson stood,
offering an apologetic smile as he hugged her. “Sorry about that.”

She gave him a
couple reassuring pats on the back. “It’s just what you boys do. I’ll see you
tomorrow, honey.”

Ash got up,
also giving his apologies to her. He watched her and Clint walk away, wishing
he could take the same escape. Things had seemed like they were going pretty
well, just having small talk with Jackson, and then all it took was one wrong
thing said, and the sparks started flying again. Maybe they’d just built up too
much of a habit with it over the years to where it couldn’t be broken.

Seeing Jackson
was sitting again, Ash sighed and relented to stay. He still needed to work his
way around to an apology. Somehow. He didn’t even know how to approach that
now.

Ash sat next to
him again. Neither spoke. He glanced at him. Jackson sat with his gaze focused
on the pavement. Ash took the time to really look at him,
not
that he hadn’t stared at him countless times before,
but it was
different on TV, online, and in magazines. There were endless tricks to make a
person look better than they really were for those things, but now sitting so
close to him, he saw none of those tricks needed to be used on Jackson.

Deep blue eyes
were set in a face of finely chiseled features. The line of his jaw was
shadowed in black stubble that also outlined lips. And there was something
about the cowboy hat. Somehow, it seemed to accentuate Jackson’s attractiveness
even more. Ash grinned at the thought. If he ended up hanging around Jackson
regularly, he just might develop a cowboy hat fetish.

Ash let his
gaze travel lower. He remembered when they faced off in the tour
bus,
Jackson was slightly taller than him. He noticed now he
also had a thicker frame. Solid biceps, forearms lined in muscle, and broad
shoulders that created a V down to Jackson’s hips. Ash’s gaze traveled lower.
With how tight Jackson’s jeans were
,
it looked like he
definitely wasn’t lacking in certain areas.

Ash looked
away, an internal grumble passing through him. Just what he needed. He’d made
himself hard looking at Jackson. Again, not another first, but the first time
he’d done so with Jackson close enough to touch. Ash shifted in the chair and
stretched one leg out to ease the pressure on his cock.

Nothing, not a
sound, not a movement, came from Jackson. Ash felt an annoyed huff getting
ready to leave him, but caught it before it did. It probably wasn’t right to
expect Jackson to make the first move. Jackson had done it twice already with
coming to the bus, then welcoming him to visit. If only he could figure out
what to say.

The words
floated to the front of his mind, not ones he was thrilled about, but ones that
he knew were right to say. He let out a sigh and turned to Jackson. “Hey. The
whole reason I came to find
you,
I was a real dick
earlier, back on the bus. You came to talk to me and I pissed all over you. I’m
sorry.”

Jackson’s voice
came low and hushed. “It’s no big deal.”

“And I’m sorry
for what I said about the whole karaoke thing. I’m sure the contest was more
than that, but you’re right, talent is talent, and to win something like that
and have your talent recognized, that’s a huge thing.”

Jackson nodded.

Ash sat quiet.
That’s it? He apologized and all he got for a response was a nod and a “no big
deal”? What the hell? Maybe he shouldn’t have even bothered apologizing.

“You don’t
think I’m much of a musician, do you?”

Ash snapped his
head toward Jackson at hearing his question. “What? No. I mean, no as in yeah,
I
do
think you’re a hell of a musician.”

Jackson let out
a snort expressing his doubt at Ash’s words.

Ash leaned over
his chair, trying to get closer to him. “You know what’s pissed me off the most
about us throwing words at each other?”

Jackson glanced
at him. “What?”

“The fact that
I still listen to your music and I like it.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. If
you don’t believe me, ask my guys. They make fun of me all the time for it. Not
because they think your music is bad, they don’t. They listen to it, too. It’s
because they think it’s freakin’ hilarious that one second I’m throwing
something at the TV after you’ve made a smartass comment, and the next second
I’ve got you playing on my iPod.”

Jackson spoke
through his laughter. “Well, I guess the same applies toward you. One second
I’m cussing out your picture in a magazine, and the next I’m blasting From
Ashes in my dressing room to hype me up for the stage.”

“I guess we’re
more alike than we ever knew, even if I can’t imagine you cussing anybody out.
I was impressed with just you saying ‘shitty’ a little while ago. It was the
first time I ever heard you swear.”

“What can I
say? You bring out the best in me.”

Ash took in
Jackson’s playful smile. “I think I would like doing that.” He caught the
flirtatiousness in his own voice, and he contemplated standing up and
physically kicking himself. He hadn’t even thought when he’d said that, but
from how Jackson was staring at him, it seemed he’d picked up on it, too.

Jackson averted
his gaze. “I was surprised when I found out you were playing this concert.”

Ash caught the
topic change, and couldn’t help but feel disappointment at it. But what did he
expect? He’d get flirty and Jackson would jump him? He couldn’t even believe he
was thinking like this. He’d always felt some attraction toward Jackson, and
yeah, he’d had a few fantasies about him, but to getting flirty with him?
Especially being ninety-nine percent positive Jackson wasn’t down with it? That
all added up to one thing; he was too damn horny and needed to get laid. Since
he didn’t see that happening in the next five minutes, he might as well finish
this conversation with Jackson.

“Same for me
when I heard you were going to be here. I didn’t think this would be your kind
of thing.”

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