Eve's POV:
"I'll be home by midnight, Daddy." I tell my dad. I told him that Grace wanted to take me out because of some big promotion at her job, Grace obviously agreed to go along with it and my dad obviously bought it. My dad loves Grace.
Ashton's car is so nice. He pulls up to the PAS {Performing Arts Studio} and I'm thankful he's late, because Mr. Rink kept me late and I hardly had enough time to change into my good clothes.
When he steps out of his BMW my heart races and I wish I had thrown something better on. Instead I stand fearfully in my half shirt with my cut leggings and striped shorts. My black boots are lucky, that's why I wore them tonight. My hair is down and a beanie covers the frizziness of it. I thank god for hats.
He walks up to me looking beautiful as ever as he smiles down at me warmly.
"Wow you look… Great." He finds the word, geez I didn't think he'd be so cheesy.
"Thanks, you look horrible." I hope he gets my sarcasm, not a lot of people do.
When he laughs I'm thankful and then he pretends to be offended.
"Well then I guess you can walk there," He turns on his heal and I go after him.
"No! Okay, you look good too… Just not as good as me." I playfully flip my hair and he laughs. "C'mon," He chuckles. I don't think I've ever been so comfortable with someone before, at least not with a guy before. He makes me feel safe, like I couldn't say anything wrong.
The car is nice and air conditioned. I can't remember the last time I've been in an air conditioned car, my dad's car is a piece of crap, so is Grace's.
"Where are we going?" I ask as I fiddle with the rips in my leggings.
"McDonalds." He says, his face completely serious.
"Um,"
"I'm joking." He winks. Oh,
"I knew that." I say, sounding not so convincing.
"No you didn't." He smiles.
After a second in silence he turns on his stereo, the bass of a guitar fills the surround sound speakers and then the drums hit. The drummer's skills are impressive, the way it picks up and puts down. It's very appealing. The singer starts and his voice is scratchy, in a really good, unique kind of way. Where it's almost not perfect. I love this kind of music.
"They're good," I say, Ashton looks at me and smiles, then turns his vision back to the road.
"You think?" His Australian accent is so strong.
"Yea,"
"What about the drums?" He asks.
"My favorite," I say, admiring his interest in my taste. He laughs.
"What?" I ask,
"The drummer is actually really sexy,"
"Sexy?" I ask between fits of laughter.
"Yup," He smiles proudly. Oh, this is his band isn't it, I should've known.
"You're really good…" I say shyly.
"Thank you," His cheeks heat.
***
The place is cold. The way Ashton waltz's into the club is mesmerizing, like he belongs here. Ashton seems like he belongs everywhere, though. The lighting is dim and the sound of rock music fills the air. Ashton's strong hand is on my hip as he leads me through the club, but I don't like it. Not that I don't like him touching me, I just don't like standing in front of someone. A force of habit of mine I have yet to shake. Without thinking, I remove his hand from my hip and tangle my fingers within his, slowly my feet down so I stand directly behind him. I like standing behind him, he's tall and he covers me well.
