Page 54 of Crimson Desires

“Yep. And before you ask—yes, I did already send meal vouchers to the crew.” He opened up the box and withdrew two yogurt parfait cups. He passed one to me and took the other for himself. “Now, eat up. We’ve got a big day planned.”

“What do you mean?” I racked my brain. As far as I was aware, Wicked Crimson didn’t have any shows or press events today. Unless I was forgetting something.

Jack glanced at me gingerly. “I was thinking that we could go on a date. A real date.”

My heart jumped in my chest. “Really?” I asked. Realizing immediately how eager I sounded, I coughed into my elbow a bit and added, “I mean, don’t you want to do something with the guys today? This has been your first day off in like, ten days.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to spend time with the guys today. As much as I love them, if I don’t get some space every now and again, I’ll probably end up killing one of them.”

“Which one?”

“Zephyr or Damien for sure. Now, is that a yes to going on a date with me?”

“Aren’t you afraid of the paparazzi catching us out together?” I ate a spoonful of yogurt. The blueberries in the parfait were fresh and tasted magnificently sweet.

“You’re avoiding the question,” Jack said.

“Seriously,” I said. “I can see the headlines now—former pop star Jack Maverick seen on the streets of Raleigh with a nobody.”

“You’re not a nobody.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“I’m twenty-four and I’ve had zero scandals. According to the magazines, that makes me a nobody,” I said.

Jack couldn’t argue with that.

“Aster,” he said, voice growing thin with impatience. “Date with me. Yes or no?”

I decided that I had pushed his buttons enough. With an innocent smile, I agreed, “Yes.”

***

You are far too comfortable, chastised the little voice in my head. What happened to resisting? What happened to not falling for Jack?

Okay, so I admit it: my willpower wasn’t as strong as I had given it credit for when I’d agreed to join the Wicked Crimson tour.

But just because I’d admitted my attraction for Jack didn’t mean that I was falling in love with him. This was just a fling—I knew that. Once Wicked Crimson’s tour ended, I’d go back to my normal life, and this little affair with Jack Maverick would fade until it was nothing more than a happy memory.

Who cared if this was just a temporary relationship?

Not me.

Maybe if I was lucky, I’d wind up as a throwaway paragraph in Jack’s autobiography. If I played my cards right, I might even get a page.

But regardless, I’d come to the realization that pushing Jack away was, at best, a vain pursuit. He was too magnetic. Too charming. Too... himself.

So, instead of pushing him away—I decided that I was going to embody his mother’s favorite flower, the sweet pea. I was going to enjoy the bliss, the delicate pleasures. And when it came time to say goodbye, I was going to thank him for the lovely time.

It would hurt when we finally separated. But it would be a lot less painful than trying to make things work out long-term.

Dad’s voice echoed in my mind. Make memories. Do the unexpected.

After so many years of putting everyone’s needs before my own, the thought of letting myself indulge and have fun felt almost selfish. I tried to remind myself multiple times that I deserved to be a little selfish. Each attempt resulted in varying levels of success.

It was hard, though, not to feel guilty. Especially since I was perusing the aisles of an art supply store knowing full well that my father had been in the hospital less than a day ago.

Next to me, Jack squinted at a shelf full of sketchbooks.

“Okay, so what’s the appeal of acid-free paper?” Jack asked.

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