The Billionaire’s Fan (The Whispering Oaks Society)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Asher

Even though Jordyn was busy at home with work, tonight was the first night that we’d been apart.

I miss her.

Even though I just saw her a few hours ago as she dropped me off at the airport, I miss her already.

I miss her?

Who the fuck am I?

Okay, okay. I’ve become pussy whipped, and I’m not afraid to admit it.

After getting into my hotel, I receive a text from Davey and meet up with the rest of the guys at a bar down the street. I look around the section of the bar that is roped off for us and note that everyone with us is drunk.

I shake my head and see Davey and Tate off the side and approach.

“Where’s the girls?” I ask Tate.

“They stayed back. No need to drag them around with us while we go back and forth. It’s not like we’re gonna be here long. How’s it going with the dating app Pizza Chick?”

“It’s good. Real good.” I grin.

“Enough talking about chicks, let’s do shots!” Davey shouts and turns toward the bar area.

Moments later, Davey returns with a serving tray full of shots.

Mikey comes over and drapes his arms around my shoulders, he violently kisses my cheek and his glassy eyes look at me, “our fearless leader. When did you get here, you magnificent human being?” he slurs.

“Just walked in, my man.”

“Yeah, you did. We’re partying. I met a girl. She likes pickles.” He says mindlessly.

“Pickles?” I look at him in confusion.

“Did you know pickles are just terminated cucumbers?”

“Terminated cucumbers?”

“Yeah, you put them in a secret sauce, specially made for terminated cucumbers, and viola. You get pickles.”

“Fermentation?”

“Termination. Yeah.”

“No, fermentation.” I correct him.

“Terminator.” He looks at my lips.

“Fer-men-ta-tion.”

“Ter-men-ta-tion. Terminator. Pickles.” He grins.

I shake my head. “Apparently, I need to catch up to you guys.” I reach around Davey, grab a shot and take it.

“Hey! Whoa! We all need to take the shot together, sir,” Tate yells.

I place the empty shot glass down and pick up another. “Well then, what are we waiting for, motherfuckers?”

Five minutes later, the tray is full of empty shot glasses and my body feels warm.

After a few hours of hanging out, surrounded by my bandmates and strangers, we were drunk as hell. We walked to a neighboring club with music pumping out the front door. After gaining entrance, our group made its way onto the dancefloor where the dancefloor was a sea of bodies moving to the infectious beats the DJ spun from his spot above the floor.

“To an awesome night with my brothers!” Shouted Mikey, raising his drink. The group held up their drinks from the spot on the dancefloor.

Feeling the buzz from the alcohol and the euphoria that comes from being drunk, my body swayed to the rhythm. After a while, I needed a break from the dancefloor and made my way to the corner of the club where we commandeered. I took a seat in the plush velvet booth, grateful for the momentary respite. Sitting with my head back against the fabric, and my eyes closed, I feel movement in the booth and open my eyes. A woman with bright green eyes and an inviting smile slipped into the booth and scooted beside me.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the music.

“That’s okay,” I reply, unsure if she heard me as she moves closer.

“I’m Christine.” She says with a grin.

“I’m Asher,” I reply, holding out my hand to her.

She takes it with a knowing smile. “I know.”

We settled into the booth in silence, before she finally spoke.

“Tell me,” she leans in slightly. “What’s it like being you?”

“Pardon?” I lean in closer.

She sits forward and turns her body toward mine, her knee touching mine. “What’s it like to be the guy from Knights Honor? I mean, you’re this gorgeous specimen of a person. You have the voice of an angel and you’re even more handsome in person.” She places her hand on my shoulder.

“Honestly, it has its challenges. Nights like these are great, though. Just letting loose and having fun.”

She nods, her gaze searing into mine, and she bites her lower lip.

“I can imagine it must be a lot to handle sometimes.”

“Yeah, it can be.” I admitted, “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“It’s getting pretty late. Do you have plans for the rest of the night?” Christine asks, leaning toward my ear so I can hear her.

“You’re looking at it.” I look at my watch and shake my head. “Actually, we have a show in the morning, and we should probably get back to our hotel.” I begin to move around the booth opposite of her and straighten my shirt as I stand. “Listen, Christine, it was great talking to you, but duty calls.”

She looks shocked as I turn around and head back to the dancefloor to gather my friends.

We stumble back to the hotel room, laughing about the night’s events, and I fall into bed, replaying the highlights of the night. Despite the wild partying of the night and a random woman, I felt a sense of clarity as I knew who and what mattered to me the most. As I drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Jordyn filled my mind.

Despite the lingering effects of our late-night partying, we pulled our shit together, ready to face our fans in the station’s courtyard with the same energy and enthusiasm we always did. As I step up to the microphone, I look out at the crowd and see a familiar face. Christine from last night, against the railing with a bright smile as our eyes meet.

We performed five songs. We spoke to the hosts of the morning show. And we did it all hungover like true rock stars!

The four of us stood by the banner of our name with a line wrapped around the block for a meet and greet.

“Man, there are not enough electrolytes in the world for today.” Tate unscrews the top of his drink and chugs.

“Seriously. Why did we drink so much last night?” I reply.

“I don’t think we made that decision as a collective. I think it was just pure thirst.” Mikey joins in.

“Hey, Ash?” Tate pulls on my sleeve.

“Yup?” I swing my gaze at him.

“Is that the chick from last night?”

“What chick?” Mikey asks looking at the line.

“Some chick had cornered me in a booth last night at the club.”

“Rabid fan. And look, she’s first in line,” Tate says.

“She was nice. But the conversation was brief. I realized I was too drunk to formulate cohesive words. That’s about when I made us all leave.”

One guy from the station claps and walks toward us.

“Alright guys, we cut off the number of people in line and this should go relatively quickly. We’ll have Becky and Kate over there to help move along the line and our photographer will take around 5 photos for each person or group. There will be no cell phone photos to keep in time. Are you guys ready?” he asks.

A collective grunting from us and everything begins. The same guy announces to those standing in line as we get in our places.

I take in a deep breath as the woman from last night smiles as she approaches. She has two friends with her in tow, and each of the guys shakes her hand. She turns to me.

“Remember me?” she tilts her head.

“Good morning,” I reply.

“It was great talking to you last night.”

“I don’t recall you mentioning that you were going to be here today.”

“Must have slipped my mind.”

“Alright ladies, get ready in one, two, three.” The cameraman holds up his hand and starts clicking away after the girl from last night, threaded her fingers through my lifeless hand at my side and kisses my cheek.