True L̶o̶v̶e̶ Story (14 page)

“Are you seeing someone?”

I pause before answering. “There
is
someone I’m interested in.” I mentally chew Ian out for making this complicated. How did he get me so wrapped up?

“Oh. Well, are you exclusive with this guy?”

“No.” A sigh escapes before I can stop it.

“Then go out with me. Come on, Sparrow. It’ll be fun. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’m not looking for a relationship, Asher.”

“Okay, perfect,” he replies.

“I don’t really want to be all over the gossip mags, either.” My voice is sounding agitated, but I don’t care.

“Why not? You look like a model!” He laughs. He lowers his seductive, husky voice. “Have you ever considered modeling for Victoria’s Secret?”

I don’t know what to say to that. I squeeze the phone so hard; I accidentally push the mute button with my cheek. I hurriedly fix it.

He laughs harder. “Hello? You there? You know you’ve got a body that needs to be seen.”

“No!” I moan. “Forget it. Why are you tormenting me?”

“Relax, girl. Tonight? Pick you up at 7?”

“As friends.” I brighten up. Yes, why can’t we just be friends?

“Yeah,” he draws out slowly, “whatever.”

We hang up and I try to get homework done until I absolutely have to start getting ready. I keep going back to the kiss—it was nice. Really nice. Not like kissing Ian … but Ian isn’t here.

My date with Asher is way mellower than I expected it to be, which is a relief. He was so intense the other night, screaming sexy with every move … I was a little afraid of what it might be like to be alone with him. I like to think I have boundaries, but well, he is a hot musician and apparently, I have a thing for those.

We go to a small hole in the wall restaurant. If there are cameras around, I am not seeing them. Asher is full of hilarious stories and has a hard time being serious about anything. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed so hard. I’m having such a great time and don’t feel uncomfortable at all. I can’t think about it too much; it’s all a little too Twilight Zone. Maybe God is testing me to see if I can avoid temptation. I eye Asher’s bulging arms while he’s talking, tuning him out to study his tattoos. I never even liked tatts until this very moment. The way his muscles are straining against his shirt. Yes, the heavens are definitely messing with me, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fail.

Talk about a change—I briefly wonder about Michael and miss him a little bit. Something about Asher reminds me of Michael—I think it’s the level of comfort I feel with both of them.

Before I can get further distracted, Asher is standing up and holding his hand out for me. “You still with me? Your eyes are glazed over.”

I bug them out for him and he leans over and kisses me. So much for just being friends.

The next few weeks sweep by with school and dates and lots and lots of conversations with me saying:
Friends
. And Asher saying:
Yeah, whatever
.

He seems fine knowing that I will still be seeing other people, but I haven’t really had time to test that. He could be seeing a slew of other girls on the side, I haven’t really thought about it. I know it wouldn’t bother me if he is.

I’ve heard from Ian once since that voicemail and it was a text giving me the date and time of his show. I’m tempted to not go, but … who am I kidding? I can’t
not
go. And who knows, maybe seeing him will give me closure somehow.

Tessa is determined to meet Ian. I haven’t talked about him since that night I got back from the ski trip, and she’s known better than to broach the subject. But when I told her he was coming to the Village, she immediately made plans with Jared for them to join me. Jared and Tessa are going strong; I love them together. He is completely smitten. She acts like she’s nonchalant about the whole thing, but I can see the way she looks at him when she thinks no one is watching. Since she’s dated a lot of frogs, it’s probably best that she’s being cautious, but I’m secretly hoping that Jared is the real deal.

When the night of Ian’s show finally arrives and Tessa and I are getting ready together in our tiny bathroom, Tessa goes serious on me. “Ro.” She says it so severely that I stop messing with my hair and look at her in the mirror.

“I know you’ve got it bad for Ian.”

I don’t bother denying it.

“Just be careful. Jared says he’s a player—he has a different girl everywhere he goes. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

My heart is thudding. I’m listening. I haven’t wanted to think about this, but I know she’s probably right.

“He obviously feels something for you, or he wouldn’t keep coming back for more. But you can get any guy … don’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate what he’s getting.”

I nod my head and feel strangely close to tears. Ian seems to have that effect on me.

“On the other hand, if you think you’ve got him wrapped,” she grins mischievously now, “then you lay it on him. Don’t mess around. Put it ALL out there and get his balls in a vice once and for all.” With that last statement, she adjusts my shirt so cleavage shows. I hike it back up so it won’t. She pulls it back down and we continue our shirt battle a half dozen times until she huffs and says, “Trust me!” I leave it alone.

She’s scary when she means business.

I’m a skittering tangle of nerves. When we get to the underground blues club, I give our names to the bouncer and he doesn’t even ask for ID. I’m ushered right inside to a suede-covered booth close to the front. I’m happy for the dark. The atmosphere is romantic and I tell Tessa and Jared to go get a drink and take their time. The kid glove treatment is just making me more anxious.

An older redhead comes onto the stage, along with a guitar player and a guy with an upright bass. The woman looks like she’s seen some miles. The club is packed and noisy. When she sits down at the piano and begins singing, the noise softens a touch, but doesn’t die down. She’s good, but doesn’t seem to garner attention.

Forty-five minutes later, Ian comes out. The place goes mad with cheers and catcalls. Ian once said that he loves these small venues and would be content with this for the rest of his career. I wonder if he means it or if he secretly wants to be more famous.

When he hits the first note on his electric guitar, the crowd is deafening. I tear my eyes off of him long enough to stare at the people who have jumped out of their seats and are now standing as close to the stage as they can get. His voice rings out, a sultry gravel that cuts through the room. Everyone is fully immersed in Ian Sterling. He commands the room.

Later, when he’s switched to acoustic guitar and is singing a soulful ballad, the room is silent as they take him in. I can’t stop watching him. He has bewitched me.

All too soon, he’s done. I can’t even be happy that this means I will be with him; I’m too sad to hear him stop the music.

Ian exits the stage and for the first time in a couple hours, I look over at Tessa and Jared. They’re staring, transfixed at the stage. I tap Tessa. “You okay, Tess?”

“Holy shit,” she says. “Sorry, Ro.”

“I know,” I confirm.

“I get it now.” She looks at me and nods. “I get it. And God, he’s gorgeous.” She clears her throat. “Sorry, Jared.”

Jared shrugs. “I’m not blind.”

“It’s not just the music thing, though.” I feel the need to explain what it is about him that has me spellbound. “Really, it’s not. He’s so much more…” I give up. It’s impossible to describe something that I don’t even understand.

An enormous man with bulging biceps comes to the table. “Mr. Sterling asked me to escort your party backstage.” He holds out an arm and I stand up and take it.

“You remind me of the guy from that one movie … what is it? It’s older. Stephen King. The Green Mile!” I say, stretching my neck up to look at him.

“I hear that a lot.” He smiles down at me. He nods and pats my arm. A softie giant.

Tessa and Jared are behind me and when Softie reaches a red door, he stops and knocks.

Ian opens the door and is hugging me before I have a chance to think. After a long embrace, which renders me limp and useless, he pulls back and cups my face in his hands.

“Little Bird,” he says. He looks almost relieved when he says it.

I love him.

- 10 -

We’re all piled into a Lincoln Town Car, with Ian behind the wheel. He seems completely unfazed by the New York traffic. He pulls up to a quaint little restaurant in the Village. We’ve all been talking nonstop the entire drive. Excitement shares the space with us. I’m happy to see Ian and that Tessa seems to really like him. Tessa’s happy to meet Ian and seems surprised by that. Jared is happy that Tessa’s happy. And Ian just seems happy to see me. My heart is full.

Our conversation never falters once. Tessa grills Ian about where he’s been the last month. I know she’s wanting to get even more personal and ask “why the hell” he hasn’t called me, but she restrains herself. Thank God for small miracles.

There’s only one awkward moment when Tessa brings up Asher. I think she catches herself off guard, but tries to cover quickly. Ian is answering her question about playing with Jagged, the alternative band that has gone platinum in the past six months.

“Asher produced them, didn’t he, Ro?” It feels like every eye turns on me all at once.

“Um, yeah. I think he did,” I stutter.

Ian looks at me then, his gaze different than what it’s been throughout the evening. I hate the word
smolder,
but I can’t think of another word for what his eyes are doing in this moment. It’s like they’ve gone black and are swimming with feeling. Ugh. What has he done to me? I’m talking in romance novel terms.

I can’t read what the look is saying, though. Then, he smiles and my heart lifts. The moment loses its awkwardness.

It’s some time later when we drop Tessa and Jared off at the apartment. I look at Ian. “Would you like to come in?” I ask.

“I was thinking we could go for a drive … if you’re up for it.”

“I don’t have class tomorrow. I’m up for it,” I awkwardly reply.

“Perfect.”

We drive through the traffic and end up at Prospect Park. It’s beautiful, even in the dark.

“This is one of my favorite places in New York,” Ian says. “It’s gorgeous in the daytime. We’ll have to come back.”

My breath quickens at the thought of a future date, even though I’m trying to play it cool.

The weather is brisk but feels good on my flushed skin. Around Ian, I am in a constant state of heat. Take that however you want, it will fit.

We stop by the water and look at the small bridge across the way. The water is still and serene. I can’t remember the earlier nerves that threatened to overtake me. I’m calm and content. Ian has my hand in his and he looks down at my mouth. His fingers brush over my lips. Light as a feather, his fingertips tease me.

“I could be so bad with you.” He groans and pulls away, holding his hands in the air. He gives his hair a haphazard tug. “God, girl. You’re driving me crazy.”

The feeling is mutual. He makes me want to forget my own name.

We walk a little ways, the moonlight bouncing off the water and making everything shimmer.

“This reminds me of a lake we used to have by our house,” Ian says softly, pointing at ducks getting out of the water. “I like to visit this park every time I’m in town. And remember when things were simpler.”

He leans back against a tree and pulls me back against him. We look out at the water and I feel his lips against my neck, kissing so softly it makes me shiver. My body is zinging with hopped up nerve endings.

“I miss the ocean, but this is peaceful, too,” I whisper.

“Sparrow,” he says against my neck. His breath feels hot against my goosebumps.

I can’t think when he does that.

He turns me around to face him and holds my face in his hands. When he leans down to kiss me, my body feels heavy. My knees do that obnoxious weak trick. His lips tease me, just as his fingers did before. And then his tongue flicks in softly and I think I’m going down. I can’t hold back any longer. I grab his hair and kiss him as hard as I’ve been wanting to all this time. He groans and his hands start roaming as he has his way with my mouth—and abruptly, he stops. He leans back so he can look in my eyes. “Baby. We should go.” He wraps his arms around me and hugs me while we catch our breath.

He holds out his hand and we walk back to the car. I sigh and get back in my seat, buckling up. That rebuffed feeling returns, and I try to ignore it. I should be glad that he’s being so considerate of me. I’m not, though. It stings.

We’re both quiet. Before I know it, we’re in front of my apartment and Ian is giving me a chaste kiss goodnight. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“I’ll let you sleep. How about I pick you up at 11?”

I nod. “That sounds perfect.”

He puts his hand on my cheek and leans his forehead against mine. “Sparrow. You are perfect.”

“No, I’m not.”

“To me, you are.”