Page 50 of Sweet Oblivion

“Asher,” he said, a faint smile at the corner of his eyes and his mouth.

“A-Asher…” My tongue seemed to tie.

Aya stepped forward, her fingers gently squeezing mine. “I hear from Cam that your son likes to ride horses,” she said with a smile. “My name is Aya Aldringham.”

Asher shifted his focus to Aya, giving me a moment to breathe. “Mason does. He picked it up a few years back.”

Aya began to recount a visit to a horse farm in Nepal, causing Asher to chuckle. “I’ll have to bring Mason out to meet you tomorrow. He’s about your age.”

“That would be lovely,” Aya said. “I’d love another friend to hang out with.”

“Aya’s the beauty and the charm of this duo,” Cam said with a chuckle. “She’s been a pleasure to have aboard, though she’s been off at MIT doing some fancy robotics. But you gotta hear about her book choice, man.” He turned to Aya. “Go on, tell him what you’re reading.”

Aya gauged my reaction before explaining her current historical fiction book choice to Asher freaking Smith. She was talking book club with the world’s best lyricist.

Surreal.

He smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming. “Dahlia is going to love you.” He leaned in closer to Aya, bending a little from the waist to make the moment more private between them. “My wife’s an author. She got me into this Galileo series.”

Aya gasped, eyes wide, as she named the book.

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, I’m desperate for the sequel, but it doesn’t come out until next month.”

“It’s better than the first,” Asher said, his tone confident.

“No way,” Aya scoffed.

She scoffed at Asher Smith.

His eyes twinkled as he met my gaze and winked. He began to extoll the merits of the first book, causing Chuck to chime in. Seemed like they’d all read it but me.

And just like that, my tension eased. It wasn’t gone—it shimmered over my shoulders and into my neck—but I could think again. I owed Aya, big time, for not letting me embarrass myself in front of my hero.

Asher seemed aware of my return to functioning status because he turned toward me when the book debate finally subsided. “Are you interested in signing with a label?” he asked.

I blinked at him, shock rocketing through me. I’d hoped for this, of course. But the reality—and with Asher as my mentor…

“If you are, I’d like you to consider my company,” he continued. “We’re based out of Seattle, which could be tricky since you’re in Austin, but I think we can work something out.”

My shock turned into bubbles of euphoria. Much as I wanted to tell him hell yes right here, I understood enough of the business to know one of my parents needed to sign off on the agreement. And it wouldn’t be my father. “I need to discuss that with my parents.”

Steve stepped forward, nervous but firm. “I can say that your parents will support this decision.” His gaze met mine, softening in a way that caused my pulse to ratchet up. “If that’s something you want.”

I swallowed thickly, my hand trembling in Aya’s.

“I don’t have a band or…”

Asher nodded. “That’s something I can help you with.”

Asher will help me choose my bandmates? I felt lightheaded.

“Take the night. Talk it over with Cam, your folks. And don’t make the decision lightly,” Asher said. “Touring can eat you up.” His gaze darkened. “It’s why I like to stick close to my home base these days. I’m not all that interested in living on a bus and in a bubble of my bandmates, roadies, and staff.” His eyes fell to where I gripped Aya’s hand, and his gaze softened. “It’s also damn near impossible to keep normal relationships. They suffer.”

A chill swept over me as I inched closer to Aya.

With that, Asher turned back to Cam, asking him about a guitar maker in Austin. J. Olsen crafted them in a shop off of Sixth Street. Cam knew the maker, and he, Chuck, and Asher moved forward in the bus, leaving Aya and me in the back.

---