Behind the Curtain - Page 89

“What do you expect from me, Asher?” she called out bitterly. He turned around, his jaw tight, eyes blazing. “I didn’t know you were going to come here. My life hasn’t frozen in time since Crescent Bay. I’m not some kind of prop to your life, ready to fawn all over you the second you return.”

Heat scorched into her cheeks upon hearing her own words. Maybe she hadn’t fawned all over him, but she’d certainly been about to get under him in about three minutes flat. But that wasn’t the point, she told herself, rallying.

“Are you going to try to tell me you’ve been celibate for eight years? No. Of course not,” she said, her mouth slanting in irritation that she’d asked the question. Her own brain had answered it, making her picture the long line of fascinating, beautiful women a man like Asher had likely been with over the years. She threw up her hands in a helpless gesture. “I didn’t know this was going to happen any more than you did, Asher. Don’t blame me for the unexpected.”

He closed his eyes briefly.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said it stiffly, but she thought she sensed genuine regret on his part. If she’d had to guess, she’d say he was as confused and overwhelmed by what had just happened between them as she was. They’d both been stung by the lash of lust.

Feeling the chink in his armor, she stepped toward him. “Can’t we please just sit down together? Talk? Catch up. Act like most people would, after not seeing each other for eight years?”

“I guess that’s the problem. You’re not most people to me,” he stated, his eyes piercing her.

Exposing her.

“God, Asher.” She exhaled shakily after a stunned pause. “I’d forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

“Your honesty,” she said through a congested throat. Her eyes burned. “The way you strip me bare.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, but silent truths seemed to swarm around them. It was like standing on a ledge in the pitch-black. She didn’t know what was in front of her, an amazing path or a frightening abyss. She wavered.

“I have to get ready for my show,” she finally said, resorting to the obvious and mundane in her bewilderment.

He nodded once, his mouth hard. “I’ll go, then,” he said. He started to turn.

“Asher.”

He paused but didn’t turn around.

“You’re not most people to me either,” she said shakily. “You never will be.”

He faced her slowly. For several seconds, they just stared at one another. She felt like she was crazy, wondering what was going on behind those brilliant eyes of his.

“You’re still existing behind the curtain. That hasn’

t changed,” he said.

Her breath hitched with unwanted emotion. She struggled not to break down in front of him . . . to keep it locked inside.

“Things have changed, Asher.”

She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him that she’d never sacrifice something so precious again. Not her music. Not someone she loved with every fiber of her being. She kept her profession separate from her family life because she could. She and Tahi still went to Detroit frequently. Their parents, aunts, uncles and cousins visited them in Chicago. Her family would be very distressed by the idea of her performing in public, especially her modern, sexy compositions. The fact that she herself had written the music and lyrics wouldn’t help matters much. They didn’t even know she wrote her own music. It was a conflict and a pain that she could spare them. It was manageable. She’d been managing it for the last five years of her life.

She wanted to say all those things to Asher in that moment, but her throat had tightened, and the words were trapped. She sensed his reluctance in those dragging seconds, and that cut as much as anything.

“I’m leaving Chicago in a little over a week,” he said. “I’ve taken a position as the Gazette’s new European bureau chief.”

Some of the clogged emotion rushed out of her throat at that. Here it was: the inevitable barriers.

“Well. Time never was on our side,” she said with a mirthless laugh. So many things were against us, from the beginning. She strained to smile, knowing all along she wasn’t kidding him. His large, dark figure shimmered in a veil of tears. “I’ll be going to L.A. in a month, as well. Not on a permanent basis, but probably for a good chunk of time.”

“For your first recording contract,” he said.

She nodded. He’d heard Rafe mention it just now. She inhaled, willing herself to remain calm.

“Will you at least stay for the show?” she managed to say, surprised at how even her voice sounded.

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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