★ Warning Mature Content ★
Asher Kells is a Rock Star and Rapper, complete with tattoos on nearly every inch of his thickly muscled body. He has a badass ability to play the guitar, and he sang like crush diamonds, amber whiskey, and smoke. While I...
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The Arena was still lit up for the night. With the light from the parking lot and the arena's yellow glow piercing the sky like beacons. The glow surrounds each light pole from the fog. The parking lot had this mystical quality. As if the man from the crossroads would step out and I'd finally get to meet him. I always found it funny how he's scorned as the devil for offering choices. As my family always sees him as Eshu, maybe we don't blame the messenger for offering the option. Because everything comes at a price and Eshu always eats first. The van comes to a slow stop next to my little car. I lift my head from Asher's shoulder. A part of me is sad the ride is over.
Rux opens the sliding door of the van and offers me his hand. I take it and step out of the van under the parking lot light. Somehow, the air is cold and fog is rolling into the night. It's like the night can't remember the scorching heat from the day. I zip up Asher's jacket, then remember I need to give it back. Asher steps out of the van next and then Rux gets back in and drives towards a tour bus. It leaves just me and Asher in front of the King's arena. For a place filled with over seventeen thousand people earlier in the night, it was so empty now.
My brother's truck is not here yet. I unzip Asher's jacket. But he stops my hand on the zipper. His touch on my zipper is still a shock to the system. And then I look up into Asher's nebulous hazel eyes. His hair is all over the place messy. The tattoos on his neck and up into his hair can be barely seen in the street light of the parking lot. But he looks my age. The artifice of the rock star is at the edges of him.
"Your ride's not here yet?"
"No, not yet." His hand hasn't moved from the jacket zipper.
"Sabali, wait on the jacket."
"Ok," yeah, that wasn't too articulate of me. No great witticism in ok. "Thanks for the ride."
"Thanks for the story," he smiles again. It's a cute smile. I'm a sucker for smiles. He moves my hand away from the jacket zipper and zips his jacket back up, locking in the warmth. All my nervousness from earlier rushed back to me. It's like we didn't spend time in the car or have a whole conversation. I somehow got reset to square one. I didn't become a contestant in the contest. He didn't know my name. I'm Wheelz. But I was wrong. He steps closer to me and the spicy smoke scent is stronger.
"You're welcome," my voice cracks on it. Of course! Asher smiles again. He should smile more. It's dangerous. But then again, I can hardly handle the first one. Do I really want the second one? It's giving me a little floaty in my stomach.
Asher grabs me, and I realize a little too late that I stop breathing again. It was a complete repeat of this morning, but at least I didn't blackout. Shit!
"Whoa, there Birdy." He pulls me in close to his body. Too close, that tattoo on his neck, following to his hazel eyes. "Are you feeling ok, why did you stop breathing?" The gold hazel nebula still has the same effect. Stars and an endless playlist of music. Space clouds and universes. Breathe.
