Shades of purple, green, and red light washed over the packed room of party goers. The stench of alcohol and weed filled the air as I nursed the drink in my hand, a whiskey sour a bit too strong for my liking.
I lifted the glass to my pink painted lips and took another sip anyways, my eyes scanning the room for the hazel eyes I longed to see.
When I finally saw him, my eyes connecting with his, my breath caught in the back of my throat. It was like this every time, my blood loud in my ears as my skin heated. Fuck the things he could do to me simply by walking in a room.
The sound of glass against wood was only loud enough for my ears as I spun the glass in my hand against the counter top and watched from afar as he repeated my earlier actions, his eyes drifting from one side of the room to the other, finally coming to a halt as they settled on mine.
My throat was tight as it worked, the tension between he and I suddenly so real, so intense that I was surprised the other thirty or so people that filled the rented loft hadn't picked up on it.
Alas, they all seemed lost to the night and their own vices. Too caught up in their own endeavors to bother with the man and woman who were supposed to be only co-workers.
Ashton's eyes were firmly set on me, how no one had caught on to us in the months this had been going on was unknown to me. Subtly surely wasn't his strong suit. As if to prove the point his tongue made an appearance between his lips, just barely visible as it worked to wet them as he shamelessly scanned over my body before lifting his glass of water to them and redirecting his attention to his bandmates that surrounded him.
With his attention no longer on me it became easier to breath and to remind myself of why this, the relationship we'd cultivated for months, was best kept in the dark.
It was a bit of an unspoken rule in our particular line of work, you don't date your collaborators. Yet, from the moment I'd met him in the recording booth for the song I'd done with his band seven months ago I'd been a goner.
He was a cageless bird, however, terrified of commitment and the things that would come with being in a publicly claimed relationship. Somehow I'd let him convince me it was for the best for the both of us and yet as of late I'd begun to question if that was the case at all.
I'd only called it into question a few nights ago, after a particularly amazing night in his bed where I'd realized that my lust for him had transformed into something more.
A group of women approached, girls I didn't know and who I assumed Ashton nor his friends did either. I tried to look away, tried not to let the way the blonde among them ran her hand along Ash's forearm bother me.
I placed my now empty drink glass on the counter and after making eye contact with Ashton again turned and walked down the hallway I knew led to the exit. Once in the shadows I leaned against the exposed brick wall, my arms folded across my chest as I waited.
It didn't take him long, only a few minutes until he was in my presence, so close I could practically taste his pine scented cologne.
"That dress should be illegal." He whispered, his breath hot against my cheek as he braced himself with his hand just above my shoulder on the wall. His free hand rested on his hip right at the belt loop of his black jeans and his hair hung half across his face.
"Is that so?" I asked in a hushed tone, raising a hand and brushing the long black strands behind his ear.
"Mmhm."
"Did you say the same to the blonde?" I asked, feeling more brave tonight that usual. Perhaps it was the three drinks coursing through my veins.
"Someone's feisty tonight. Or is that jealousy?" He said darkly, his desire barely hidden. "You know you're my one and only, love. I've got to stay at least an hour and make the rounds. You're gonna meet me at mine later though, yeah?"
