★ 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...
After a night of too short sleep, we drove to Asher's place. The house was hanging precariously in the Hollywood Hills. When gazing out from the deck you can see other expensive homes in the hills. With pricey cars and even pricier views. After the fifth bedroom of the tour, my mind checked out a little. Sometimes I forget that Asher isn't just a guy who lost his brother and has a niece he cares about. With two close friends who work for him. He seems like just some dood who I really like and we jam from time to time. But all of this is a big hey I'm Asher Kells grammy's award-winning Rock Star. At the same time, it's funny how a house can be so devoid of the home of Dustin, Asher, Mia, Rux, and his brother Teddy. All the home things that I'm beginning to think actually make Asher happy. Yet a mobile home and a van can look like more of a home in a second when filled with the people he cares about. This place is the type of home you expect supermodels to be doing lines of coke in the bathroom. Swanky, sexy, with a touch of elegance, but oh so empty of soul.
"Birdy?" He calls me with concern about the question. I completely spaced out. My hand smooths out the wrinkle in his leather jacket still just a bit wet from the shower. The moon shines down over Los Angeles as the street lights glow from the city below. Asher's arms wrap around me and in this tiny space, the worry that started to ache in my stomach slips away. Our smell combines cocoa butter, burnt honey, and smokey whiskey of the two of us together. The house filled my mind in the most distracting way. This house didn't feel at all like Asher and it made me uncomfortable but in his arms everything was ok.
"Birdy," he smiles into my neck and my body relaxes into him.
"Yes?" I answer.
"We should skip the gig and stay here." He offers. I wiggle out of his arms a little and look at the bed behind him. He runs one hand through his hair, messing it up a bit more.
"Well, I kinda want to try out the mirror above the bed," I say boldly as possible. Asher groans deep in his chest and pulls me back into him. His hardness expanded against me. I said it to fuck with him but maybe I was a little too mean. "Rux and Teddy are already at the gig." My lips brush against his cheek in apology. I push against him and he lets me go reluctantly. As soon as I wasn't in his arms, the feeling of wrongness was back in full force. I take off his jacket and place it on the bed. Then I pull my backup band t-shirt from my luggage for tonight's gig. The Sugarhill Gang t-shirt was skin tight all black and a little funky so would work really well on stage. I paired it with some bangle earrings. With more of a punk style, flatten fuck outta my hair. Threw on some fishnet stocking. I wish I had time to clean my grandmother's guitar again, but I didn't. It wasn't dirty, but it's something I always did before a performance with it. The habit was comforting and missing it wasn't helping with my uneasy feelings.
I took the steps out of Asher's house with caution. Asher was waiting for me next to his black muscle car. He was the picture of rock and roll his hair is still messy, just the way I like it. His head comes up from his phone and he drops it. The sound of the screen crack was loud.
"Go back inside and stay," Asher says.
"Huh?" I answer him. What did I do wrong?
"Go back," both his hands run through his hair, a two-handed grip in classic distressed Asher and my worry grew. What happens now? My eyes run over Asher looking for the problem. I do a quick scan of Asher my worry growing until my eyes snag on the growing bulge in his pants. It all comes together at once. I laugh and race to the car slamming the door and putting my seatbelt on.
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a/n: I always wished Normani would get a TV show like empire or something. She'd be so good in it.
