Page 74 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

“Yes, ideas tend to pop up in my mind at the most random times. I write it down, whether it’s on a napkin in a restaurant or a receipt from a store; it’s something that could be used for later.” She slides her pen inside the elastic attached to her journal and sets it on the bedside table.

“Where’s Haze?”

Her face looks so innocent and blissfully unaware of the unfolding events behind her back. It weighs on me to be the bearer of this unwelcome news, knowing that I'll have to be the one to reveal the truth to her.

“He was detoured. Something about work. I can’t take credit for this breakfast tray; he prepped it, so dig in.”

“Not that hungry,” she declares.

“Eat, babe, put some meat on your bones,” I urge.

“I think my fat ass can survive,” she retorts with a hint of humor, emphasizing her self-assured demeanor.

“Fat?” my brows furrow slightly. “No. Sexy? Fuck yeah. Ash is one lucky wanker.”

She stares at me with thoughtful green eyes, their intensity fixed directly on me.

“Haze said that exact same thing. I don’t get it,” she muses.

I can't help but chuckle; it's a perpetual joke among the lads. She arches a skeptical brow.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll tell you, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

Picking up a knife, I spread jam over a slice of toast and extend it towards her.

"Eat," I command. Rolling her eyes, she takes it before biting into it.

“I’m surprised you still haven’t worked it out,” I tease with a grin. “When we perform on stage. Where is Ash?”

Her green eyes fix on me again as she takes another bite of the bread. “Playing the drums.”

“Yeah, but where on stage? You’re at the center front, Jagger’s always on your right side, and Haze and I on your left, occasionally switching and moving forward or closer to Jagger, depending on the piece. But Asher is always….”

I lean forward, gesturing for her to complete my sentence.

“Behind. Me.” And it suddenly dawns on her, a flash of realization illuminating her face. “Behind me? Is this what you guys talk about when I’m not around?”

Her sudden realization and innocent surprise elicits a hearty laugh from me.

“Not always, but once upon a time, we were your boyfriends, and we talked and compared notes. It helped to date the same girl. But before we got together with you, we all fancied you back when you performed with the Vixens. Asher had it seriously bad for you. And when you joined our band and performed on stage, the poor lad suffered a stiffie every time. You shaking that sexy arse of yours in those skimpy glitter leotards they made you wear was torture for him because his eyes were just locked on your arse for the entire show. It was a fucking awesome view, but it was torture for him because he fancied you like mad.”

“Wow, I didn’t know,” she exclaims, her mouth slightly agape.

“Back then, Asher was the quiet, shy type. He is who he is because you were his sexual awakening.”

She swallows hard. “Ash was a virgin?” she asks, her eyes widening with astonishment.

“He’s never admitted it, and I don’t push him about it, but I don’t reckon he had much experience with girls back then.”

“And after me?”

“Dunno, luv. We kept in touch but mostly for the odd pub crawl.” I omit pub fights because she doesn’t need to know that dark side of us. “But we never talked about our private lives. That part of us got locked up after the band broke up. None of us are in any relationships now. There is no significant other waiting for us back home in England.”

I added that last bit because none of us discussed it with her, and I didn’t miss the million-dollar question on her face as she asked about Asher’s status.

“Listen, siren, I owe you an apology for last night and just general for my off behavior. You don’t deserve it, and for what it’s worth, I don’t think you were responsible for the video or its release.”

“And the others?”

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