TANTRIC (Book 3 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 12: Hippie Chics Play The Fangirl

Okay, so I lied. I couldn't resist giving Ash and Leed more "screen time". Ash and Kat next chapter, after she has lunch with Trace...

The song for this chapter is a cover of Sarah Mclachlan's Ice Cream by William Fitzsimmons. You will understand from the text....

Ashlynn

My phone is buzzing me awake. I roll over in the bed and reach for it, but I don't look at it immediately. As I always do, I open my eyes very slowly. Just a crack, so that the sunlight streaming in my window dances on the tips of my eyelashes, making circular spectra that prompt a smile of gratitude. For the little things like waking up slow, and eyelash sunsparkles. And the big things, like waking up headache-free and sober.

Opening my eyes slowly helps me transition to the light. Which is important, because sometimes jarring transitions trigger a searing pain in my head, that dulls to a headache that lasts for hours. Still, my headaches are nothing like they were before. These are manageable, usually. I've only had one migraine since detox, and I'll do just about anything to keep them at bay.

Anything but drugs, that is.

I don't want to dwell too much on yesterday's near miss, so I focus on my phone. The name says Leed. I have a sudden craving to have a picture of him to go with the contact. I've never taken a picture of him. I'm very conscious that these Soundcrush guys are skittish about snap-happy acquaintances. Well, at least Trace and Mac and Adam always were, but they always had more to hide than Leed or Bodie. Until last summer, Mac and Adam were always trying to hide their subtle looks, touches, and body language that would show the world what they were doing a bad job of hiding from their band-mates—that they were desperately in love with each other. Trace had me—his secret wife—to hide. Of course, we were the exactly opposite of Madam. We were just desperate, without the love.

I don't want to dwell on Trace either. My thumb is already moving me in the direction I want to go.

I press green. For go. Ha. I wish. If only it were that easy for me to peel out of the starting gate with Leed. Still, I can't help flirting a little. It's been so long since I wanted to flirt with anyone for the simple reason of showing affection.

"Hey, Red," I purr as I stretch out the words, and my body.

He laughs. "It's like that, huh? I don't know if that's the best nickname for me right now. My hair is a shadow of its former glory."

"I like it. You look edgy. But if you grow it back it, that's all good too."

"More for you to yank on?" His purr is much, much sexier than mine. Man, am I really blushing just from his voice?

"You aren't ever going to let that go, are you?" I sigh.

"I'll let go, if you hold on tight, Sunshine," he quips mildly, "But I didn't call for phone flirting this morning. I told you, I am all about the slow and sweet with you now. Hey! That reminds me of that song. Ice Cream. You know it? That's your signature song, Sunshine. Just til I find just the perfect one. I'm putting it on my ring tone for you."

"I love that you have a song for everyone that calls you, but I don't believe you. There is not a song called Ice Cream," I laugh.

"Obviously your knowledge of nineties alternative female performers is gaping if you don't know Ice Cream. Sarah Mclachlan. Your love is better than ice cream, better than anything else that I've tried. Your love is better than ice cream, everyone here knows how to fight. It's a long way down, it's a long way down, it's a long way down to the place we started from..." he croons.

Oh my lord. He is singing to me. I thought he was purring before, but Leed's voice stretched in song is creamy, decadent waves of sex. It is much much more tender than his stage performance. I stretch again and make a sound that too late I realize sounds like a porno sex whimper.