Page 101 of Crimson Desires

“I’m not usually a tattoo guy—but I’ve got to admit, that looks amazing.” Kane pantomimed tipping his hat.

“Thanks, guys,” Aster said, a blush dashing her cheeks. “Anyways, I’d love to work at Ultraviolet Ink. But they’re all the way in California. And in case you guys forgot, I live in Boston. So, that would be a hell of a commute.”

Screw the plan! Ask her now. This is the perfect opportunity! my mind shouted.

Deciding to indulge it, I cleared my throat. “Aster, I was thinking-,”

Before I could finish my sentence, Aster’s phone rang. Aster frowned as she read the contact information lighting up her screen.

“Shit. Sorry, Jack. I’ve got to take this. It’s Dad.”

Aster answered her phone. Then, she stood up and made her way to the back lounge. “Hi, Dad. Oh, wait—Melinda? Where’s Dad? Is everything okay? Hang on, slow down...”

As Aster’s voice dimmed, I became aware of Kane’s eyes fixed on me.

“What?” I asked.

“It is no small fucking miracle that you got that girl to fall in love with you. I hope you know that,” he said.

“Seriously,” Axel agreed, nodding sagely. “Especially when you consider how you met.”

“You think she’s in love with me?” I asked, lips twitching into a small grin.

“You kidding?” Kane snorted. “She’s head over heels, man.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my seat. “I don’t know. Aster’s kind of guarded. I mean, I told her that I loved her back in Nashville, but she didn’t say it back. She said she wasn’t ready.”

“She might not have been ready to say it, but it’s clear that she feels it,” Kane said.

“How do you know?”

“Just the way she looks at you.”

“That’s it?” I asked, incredulous.

Kane shook his head, smiling. “Jack, one day you’ll understand that the way someone looks at you when they think that you’re not looking back is more telling than every word in the English language combined.” He folded his book shut. “And between you and me, I’d ask Aster to come to California sooner rather than later.”

My jaw fell slack. “How did you know I was going to ask her to come to California?”

“I didn’t. But now, I do,” Kane said.

“And you guys are cool with that?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

“Why wouldn’t we be? Aster’s fine in our books. She gets Damien to talk, and she keeps you in check.” Kane cut me a look. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck her in the studio when we’re recording our second album. I want to be able to sit on the couches without worrying about accidentally getting a drop of Jack Maverick Jr. on my jeans.”

My face burned. “Jesus Christ, man.”

Axel laughed. “Who fucks in a studio?” He looked between us, his smile slowly fading as the realization hit him. “In Nashville, Jack? Seriously?”

I nodded, only half apologetic. “Seriously.”

A few minutes later, Aster emerged from the back lounge. All at once, the joking atmosphere between Kane, Axel, and I vanished.

Aster’s expression was a swirling storm—a stratus cloud on the brink of downpour. She didn’t make eye contact with any of us. She took a seat on the bench next to me, leaving an inches-wide gap between us. I fought the urge to close it.

“Aster? Is everything okay?” I asked.

Aster just sniffled and shook her head.

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