Tempt Me Like This Read online

  Thank God she'd been able to convince him not to come. He'd freak if he saw all the skin and blatant sexuality of the women who were coming on to Drew with everything they had.

  Fortunately, Ashley wasn't attracted to the rock star she'd be touring with for the next few weeks.

  More specifically, she only had a teeny, tiny little crush on Drew Morrison. But who wouldn't when he was this gorgeous and talented? Okay, so she might have followed his music since he'd put on the Internet a couple of demos he'd recorded at home when he was sixteen. And, sure, she'd watched dozens of streaming clips of his shows--but those viewings were purely in the name of research and in preparation for going on tour with him.

  Wild, sexy rockers could never be her type. Her father and mother's terrible marriage was the perfect example of how steady, straight-edged people could never be a good fit for artistic, free-spirited people. Ashley didn't need to do any further research to know that the highest probability of relationship success had her partnering with a business-minded, practical man.

  Which meant she needed to shove her secret crush on Drew Morrison as far down as it could go. Nothing could be more mortifying than for Drew to think she was just another groupie who wanted him to write his name on her breasts.

  "Ashley." He was giving her that naturally super-sexy smile of his, and her foolish heart automatically kicked up in reaction. "It's good to see you again."

  "It's good to see you, too." Oh God, why does my voice sound like that? A mix of husky and nervous all at the same time that she'd never heard come from her lips before. She cleared her throat. "I really appreciate you letting me join your tour."

  "She's going on tour with you?" The woman who had put her boobs on display for everyone looked at Ashley as though she wanted to skin her alive. "Whatever she's doing for you, Drew, I can do it a thousand times better."

  Drew put his hand on Ashley's lower back and gently pushed her in the direction of the door, where, like magic, James appeared as though he could sense danger. Quickly, James was inside the room and they were out of it, heading down a long, dark hall.

  "Sorry," Ashley said immediately. "I didn't think before speaking."

  "I'm the one who needs to apologize. My fans are great, but they can be a bit..." He frowned as he searched for the right word. "Overenthusiastic." He shook his head as if to clear it, before saying, "I'm glad you're here."

  She almost said, You are? Fortunately, she cut off the words before they could come spilling out. "Thank you. I am, too. I already met James, and he was really nice. I just want you to know that I don't want to cause you or anyone else any trouble, so I'll do my best to fade into the background."

  He turned his dark gaze to her, and she actually lost her breath. Whoosh. Gone.

  "You could never fade into the background, Ashley."

  Even though the lack of oxygen to her brain was making it hard for her to think straight, she didn't believe he was messing with her. He didn't seem the cruel type to make fun of nerds, like so many kids at school had growing up. But the idea that he might be attracted to her was so preposterous she simply couldn't process it.

  Thankfully, before she had to figure out a way to respond, they were at the tour bus, where she could hopefully escape into whatever tiny little bunk she was assigned, far away from him until the next day, when she'd make sure that all the emotion-triggering chemicals currently affecting her brain from his amazing show were way more under control.

  He punched in a code on the box at the side of the door, and it slid open. "Welcome to your new home for the summer. Living on a bus is a little weird, but most people get used to it pretty quickly." He gestured for her to climb the stairs. "After you."

  "Wow." The word slipped out before she could hold it back, but as she walked up the steps and into the bus, she truly was amazed by how sumptuous the interior was. Leather and glossy wood. A large TV and a really nice-looking kitchen, given the space constraints. She assumed one of the side interior doors led to a bathroom and shower, and the back door to a private bedroom. The living space was entirely blocked off from the driver by a floor-to-ceiling wall. It was beautiful and looked surprisingly comfortable to spend a few weeks in, but she was confused about one thing. "Where is everyone else?"

  "The band shares a bus. The rest of the crew shares another. You and I will be the only people on this one."

  She whipped around to look at him. "I can't share a bus with you!"

  He held up his hands. "I promise to be a perfect gentleman, Ashley. I would never do anything to hurt you."

  "Oh my God, I'm not worried about that at all." The words spilled out fast in the heat of her mortification that he thought she might be concerned he would take advantage of her in their shared bus. "I just assumed I was going to be with your crew. You're already letting me join your tour. You don't have to make any other special exceptions for me."

  "You want to learn about the music business, right? Your father mentioned you're applying to business school."

  "I need real-life experience for Stanford to seriously consider my application." For the time being, she left off the fact that it would be her second application.

  "My band and crew are great," he said, "but they're not the ones you want an inside track to, are they?"

  Of course they weren't. She needed an inside track to him. And yet, how the heck could she play it cool when she'd be this close to him all the time? For all its plush luxury, the bus couldn't be more than eight feet from wall to wall. And Drew wasn't a small man.

  But in the tiny pocket of her brain that was still able to think clearly around him, she knew he was right--the whole point of her being here was to learn from him, which meant that sharing his tour bus was the best possible thing that could happen. She couldn't let fear of being this close to a gorgeous rock god get in the way of her goal. She'd never forgive herself if she did.

  Desperate to salvage a seriously awkward first few minutes, she forced a big smile. "You're right. It'll be great to be on this bus with you. Really great!"

  His lips twitched at the corners at her abrupt change of response, and she could feel herself flushing at how she'd managed to make everything as uncomfortable as possible inside of five minutes.

  "Good. You can have the back bedroom, and I'll take the bunk out here."

  "You're the one who has to play a show every night. I'll be just fine out here." She put her shoulder bag with her tablet, notebook, and wallet on the lower bunk to claim it.

  "You've got more than just that, haven't you?"

  "I do, but since I wasn't sure if there'd be anywhere to keep my things during your show, I stored my bags at the airport."

  "I should have thought about that ahead of time." It was quite possibly the cutest thing in the world--he actually seemed upset at himself for not thinking about where she should have put her bags. "Things have been crazy lately, but that's no excuse." He pulled out his phone and sent a text. "We should be rolling in just a few minutes. I'll introduce you to our driver, Max, once we get to the airport." He opened the gleaming, stainless steel fridge. "What can I get you to drink?"

  "You probably have a really important after-show ritual that I'm completely screwing up. I can get myself a drink so that you can get to it."

  But instead of heading back into his private quarters so that she could figure out how to breathe normally again, he held her gaze with his. Yet again, his eyes were dark and intense--and full of so much barely banked heat that it stunned her. Especially since she couldn't possibly imagine how she could have inspired any of that in him.

  "Tonight, I have only one important after-show ritual." He paused for a beat before saying, "You."

  Chapter Two

  Holy hell, she was pretty.

  The first time Ashley had come backstage to introduce herself at a previous show, Drew had been knocked over by her beauty. But his memory hadn't done her justice. Hadn't even come close.

  Her wavy brunette locks were streaked wit
h sun-kissed strands. Her skin was so soft-looking and creamy that when she flushed every time he looked at or spoke to her, he found he could barely keep his hands off her. He wanted to stroke her cheek with his fingertips, wanted to know if her mouth tasted as good as it looked. Because something told him it definitely would. She wasn't tall, wasn't little either, and was just curvy enough to make him drool. In her black jeans and long-sleeved shirt, she managed to be a gorgeous combination of sweet and sexy. Although he wondered if she had any idea at all of just how sexy she was.

  None of the girls shoving their breasts in his face before or after the show tonight held a candle to her. Ashley Emmit was simply perfect.

  But she could never be his. Not one beautiful inch of her.

  "Take care of my baby." Drew could hear her father's words as clearly as if the man had been standing in front of him right now. They'd spoken on the phone that morning, and the professor he'd had for statistics at Stanford three years ago couldn't have been clearer. "Don't let anything happen to her. She's the whole world to me."

  "You have my word," Drew had promised.

  With two younger sisters--Olivia was going to start a graduate program in education at Stanford in the fall, while Madison would be going into her freshman year, also at Stanford--Drew knew all about protecting the people he loved. He'd do anything for his family, give up anything for them if it would keep them safe.

  "I wouldn't let her go on tour with anyone else, Drew." Dr. Emmit had clearly wanted to hammer his point home. "Just you. After having had you as one of my students, I know you and trust you."

  So even though Drew was probably going to deplete the bus's cold-water storage tank with the copious number of freezing showers he would need to take, it was why Ashley was traveling on his bus. Normally, he traveled solo so that he could write and record without disturbing anyone else. But not only was he not doing any writing or recording lately, he needed to make sure she stayed safe.

  The guys in his band and on his crew were great, but they were still guys who were sure to think she was just as pretty as Drew did...and who hadn't made any vows to his professor. He'd already told them all that she was off-limits, but as soon as they turned in for the night, he'd send a text out to everyone to remind them that if they so much as looked at her wrong, they'd have to answer to him. And there would be no second chances where Ashley was concerned.

  As pure as she'd come onto his tour, she was going to leave the same way.

  Drew got himself a beer and poured her the glass of wine she finally requested in a near whisper. He was used to making girls nervous. It had happened to him and his brothers ever since they were kids. In first grade, he'd gone up to ask Jennie Leland if he could share her crayons, and her eyes had gotten real big right before she'd dropped the crayons on the floor. She'd pretty much hidden from him for the rest of the school year.

  But he didn't want Ashley to feel she needed to hide from him. Even if he needed to keep his hands and mouth--and every other part of himself--from touching her, he still wanted her to get what she needed out of this tour. Not only because he felt he owed it to her father, who had been a great teacher, but also because after only a handful of minutes he already liked her.

  He could do this, damn it. He could do his favorite professor a favor, could be a platonic friend to Ashley, and all would end well.

  "My brother Grant went to Stanford Business School," he said. "Seems like they give their students one hell of an education."

  "They do. And your brother is a legend. Collide is by far the best social network around."

  Drew laughed, even though every time she spoke, his heart beat a little faster. Her voice was beautiful, a melody unlike any he'd ever heard. He realized now that he'd heard that melody the first time they'd met, but it had been faint enough then for him to let it fade away.

  But tonight? Tonight, he wanted Ashley to keep playing that melody for him over and over again.

  "He's got a few brains knocking around in there, for sure. And so, I'm guessing, do you, if you're aiming for the biz school."

  She frowned, and he wanted so badly to reach out and smooth away the lines on her forehead and the ones that formed at the edges of her beautiful mouth. "Aiming is a good way of putting it." She sighed, and he could see what it cost her to admit, "I applied last year, but they rejected me."

  "Isn't it the toughest school to get into in the country? Maybe even the world? Doesn't pretty much everyone get rejected?"

  "It is tough to get in." Her chin went up. "But I'm good enough. At least I thought I was, until they rejected my application. That's why I'm here, to get my act together so that they say yes when I apply again."

  He stilled, suddenly feeling as though he was looking in a mirror. He knew that expression of disappointment and confusion on Ashley's face as she talked about being rejected by the business school. Just as she'd always thought she was good enough to get into the top-notch program in the country, music had always been the one thing Drew could count on. He'd never thought to lose that certainty, never thought he'd have to reach so far or so hard for lyrics and notes, never thought they'd still be out of reach no matter how hard he tried.

  It sucked. Especially with the label breathing down his neck for another hit--and the soundtrack Smith Sullivan and Valentina Landon were waiting for him to deliver for their new movie. But all he'd been able to write was one song: "One More Time." Hell, he hadn't even been able to play it for anyone until tonight--not when it was the most raw, intense song he'd ever written. But he hadn't been able to keep it inside himself for a second longer.

  Working to push away his thoughts about his mom, he refocused on Ashley. "I have no doubt that you're good enough. The admissions committee must have screwed up. They'll jump at your application this year."

  "They didn't screw up," she said softly. "I didn't have any practical music experience, but I definitely will after watching you on tour." Another flush came. "I didn't mean for that to sound stalkery." She repeated the words watching you on tour in a low, creepy voice, making fun of herself.

  He couldn't keep from laughing out loud. Couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to laugh out loud. Even with his family, who usually made him laugh until his stomach hurt, things had been strained. Ever since their mom got sick the previous year, none of the Morrisons smiled as much. Just thinking about his mom had his smile falling away.

  "I meant to tell you earlier," she said into the silence that fell between them as his mood turned darker, "just how great your show was tonight."

  "Thanks." His mom would have loved Ashley. But thinking that only brought him down further, unfortunately.

  She studied him then, but not in a bad way. It was more like she was trying to figure out how she could help him feel better. "Were you not happy with the show?"

  Jesus, he was acting like a total douche. Saying he wanted to hang out with her tonight, then getting all moody. "No, it wasn't bad."

  "Wasn't bad?" She leaned forward over the tabletop between them. "It was amazing."

  "Our timing was a little rough on some of the faster songs." He just hadn't been all there, hadn't been able to find that feeling he used to get from the songs. No matter how far he reached, no matter how hard he tried.

  "I know it's good that you notice all the details," she said, "because then you can perform your songs even better the next time. But I can guarantee that there wasn't a single person in the audience who noticed any timing problems or fumbling. Probably because we were too busy crying--"

  Her eyes went wide the moment the words came out. And maybe he should have let it go, but knowing she had cried during one of his songs--it meant something to him. Something big.

  "When?" She didn't answer right away, so he asked again in a gentle voice, "When did you cry, Ashley?"

  He'd been naked with plenty of women over the years, but no moment had ever felt as intimate as this one, where they both had all their clothes on and weren't even touching. Whe
n he was simply waiting for her answer to a question that seemed incredibly important.

  She didn't say anything for a long moment, and just when he thought she might not respond at all, she finally spoke. "During your new song, 'One More Time.' The way you sang about pain, about heartbreak, and feeling like you'd never be whole again...it was just so beautiful."

  "I wrote that song the day--" His throat tightened down before he could finish the sentence.

  "Drew." Ashley's voice was thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

  For a moment he thought it might happen, that the tears he hadn't shed would finally fall. But then he felt himself shut down, like a shutter clicking into place one slat at a time.

  "I am, too." He looked out the window just as the bus came to a stop. "We're here."

  He felt her gaze on his face for several moments before she finally looked away and scooted out from behind the table. He should have been glad that she wasn't witnessing his pain anymore, but strangely, it felt just the opposite. He'd been working to hide his grief from the world for so long that it had almost been a relief to think it might finally spill out--and that, even though he barely knew her, Ashley Emmit might be the one to face the flood with him.

  His driver opened the door for them, grinning through the piercings that covered his face. "I'm Max. Hope the ride wasn't too bumpy."

  "It's nice to meet you." She shook Max's hand. "And the ride was very smooth, thank you."

  Max was clearly instantly enamored with her. So much so that for a moment, Drew thought he might give a thumbs-up to Drew right in front of her. Though Max looked like the quintessential rock 'n' roll driver, and had been one for over twenty years, he wasn't a fan of groupies. He had a great wife and three kids at home, and he never looked too pleased with the women who threw themselves at Drew.

  For Ashley's part, Drew was impressed with her utter lack of reaction to Max's piercings. Especially given the way she'd gasped when the woman backstage had pulled off her top and bared her chest for him to sign. Just thinking of it now made him smile again.