Gloria felt more exposed than when she’d shared her home life. She swept a hand through her hair and licked her lips.
“Out of the boys in your past—the ones who did you wrong and a few who tried to do you right but you pushed away—Asher is the one who’s stuck, isn’t he?” his mother asked. “Stuck in your heart like gum in your hair. Even when you tried to push him away, he stayed, didn’t he?”
“He went back to his life,” Gloria hedged.
“Back to the girls who meant nothing to him,” Elana amended. She rolled her eyes. “Bitches.”
Because the backs of her eyes were burning with an emotion she didn’t want to name, Gloria blew out a laugh to cover.
“How can I say this delicately?” Elana paused, thought, then confessed, “I can’t. So I’ll just say it.” She leaned on her elbows on the small table. “Asher tires of girls very quickly. Always has.”
Awesome.
“But you? He always had a spark in his eye when he mentioned you.”
Maybe more than a spark. I love you, Gloria.
“Then, today…” Elana grinned and sat straight in her chair. “Today, I saw flames. He’s gone for you, gorgeous, so you should prepare for that.”
Wow. This woman didn’t miss a thing.
Elana stood and extended her hand. Gloria looked at it, unsure how to feel about anything she’d said or done. Elana snapped her fingers and Gloria took her hand and stood from her chair. Elana then linked Gloria’s arm with hers. “If you had been my teen, I’d have let you know you were loved. That’s on them, sweetheart. Not you.”
Then she winked and they walked to Elana’s car arm in arm, Gloria biting back the sharp, so-good-it-hurt stab of emotion in the center of her chest. The feeling that someone cared about her.
Someone saw her.
Someone got her.
Finally.
*
Tank was hiding beneath the sofa in the studio, clearly uncomfortable with the level of voices, the tension slicing into the air like razor blades. Asher knew this, but he also knew he could tend to his dog later. Right now, he wanted to bash Fonz’s face in.
Broderick and Asher stood on one side of the studio, Shiff and Fonz on the other. Broderick had hold of Asher’s arm, one hand wrapped around his biceps. He was murmuring something like, “Chill, man. Just…let’s take a walk.”
Shiff was standing near Fonz, frowning down at him with such a look of displeasure, he may stop protecting him and let Asher beat his ass after all.
“Couldn’t keep your mouth shut?” Fonz said, eyes on Broderick, fists at his sides.
“Fuck, I didn’t know it was a secret!” Ricky said, his voice climbing. “I thought maybe you and your wife had some kind of open, on-the-road arrangement!”
Asher took his eyes off Fonz to glare over at Broderick. “You don’t let go of me in two seconds, I’m going to beat your ass after I beat Fonz’s.”
Wisely, Ricky let him go.
“You are one to fuckin’ talk,” Fonz barked at Asher. “You get more tail than all of us combined.”
“Not a cheater, Fonz,” Ash said, taking a step forward. Tensions had run high in the studio today, everyone grumpy and worse for it. Finding out this bit of news about a friend he thought he knew, a friend who did the whole family thing and did it well, sent Asher boiling over.
Fonz clamped his teeth, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Ash had him there. Of all the girls he’d had, never did he have one when he was seeing someone. He rarely saw any of them exclusively. Except for Glo.
“You two need to mellow,” Shiff advised.
“I’m not working with this asshole,” Asher stated.
Fonz’s wife, Pam, had been like a sister to the band for a lot of years. She’d trailed along on tours—several of them—until she’d gotten pregnant with Fonz’s first child. And now, after she’d just given birth to kid number two, Fonz decided to get fresh * on the road? Unacceptable.
“Get out,” Asher said, giving him a clear path to the door.
“My pleasure.”
“Guys.” This from Ricky, who backed to the studio door, hands raised. “Come on, this has nothing to do with the songwriting, right? This has to do with personal stuff, so let’s shelf that and get to work.”
“Business not pleasure.” Fonz strolled by, cocky glint in his eye. Ash may have let him go, too, if he hadn’t turned to face him and blurted, “Like you could ever keep it in your pants, you fuckin’ hypocrite.”
Asher lunged, then pulled back an elbow and delivered a punch directly into Fonz’s face. On contact, Fonz’s lip split. But he didn’t waste any time whining. He turned on Ash and started swinging. They crashed into the keyboard, turning it over, and Fonz knocked his Fender to the floor, kicking it under the sofa when he scurried to knee Asher in the nuts.
Ash barely moved out of the way. Tank, head down, scurried out from under the sofa to avoid being kicked by either of them, since legs were scrabbling and Asher was currently holding Fonz by the scruff of his shirt.
“Get the dog!” Ash yelled.
Ricky was on it, scooping up Tank and carrying him out of the room.