I look up to find a man leaning against my table with his back to me. He's dressed casually compared to everyone else—t-shirt and jeans. He sips the beer in his hand, watching the crowd. My gaze travels over his hips, broad shoulders, and wild dark hair. He turns, looking at me over his shoulder with a stunning smile, and my breath hitches. Thick brows and long lashes frame his cognac eyes and his pouty lips sit above a pronounced chin.

I shake my head. It can't be.

He smirks, misinterpreting my head shake as my answer. "No? You're having fun?"

He rests his elbows on my table, and the details of the musically themed tattoos on his arms are mesmerizing. I drag my stare away and bring it to his face.

It is him. For the love of God, someone would have to be living under a rock not to know who he is. I try to stay away from magazines and Hollywood-type news shows; they have a habit of embellishing the truth. But I'm a huge music lover, and I pride myself on knowing about trending artists in my boyfriend's line of work. Kade Slone, the lead singer of the biggest band in the world, is sharing my table.

I clear my throat and say, "The party is all right."

Kade raises his eyebrows. "Really? I've been watching you for the last five minutes, and you don't seem to hold any interest in what's going on here." His speaking voice is just as melodic as his singing—a rich baritone that despite the distance reverberates in my chest.

"I don't feel comfortable at these parties. It's kind of like an elite club, you're either in or out."

"You think you're out?" he asks.

"I think I'm out of my league for sure."

No doubt this is Kade's stomping ground. His dating habits are as notorious as his band's music. It's easier to count the stars than to keep up with the newest woman on his arm.

I shift under his unfaltering gaze and clear my throat. "What about you, why aren't you having fun?"

He shrugs and takes a drink of his beer. "I guess I've not found the right person to capture my attention."

"It's hard to believe you don't find any of these people interesting."

A colossal grin spreads across his face. "I may find one person in here interesting."

With a nervous laugh, I take a sip of my wine. Oh, he's good.

"I'm Kade by the way." He stretches out his hand and engulfs mine in its warmth, sending a shiver through my body.

"I'm—"

"Ariella." Asher jogs to the table, stands next to me, and places his hand at the small of my back. Our gazes meet, and I can't shake the feeling that he's being a bit possessive. He's never been the jealous type, and I've never given him a reason not to trust me.

Asher glares at Kade and through gritted teeth, he hisses, "Slone."

If Asher has a problem with Kade, he's never told me about it. In fact, I've never seen him have an issue with anyone, telling me something major must have happened between them.

"Prescott." Kade doesn't waiver, looking Asher straight in the eyes.

"I see you've met my date, Ariella," Asher says, his fingers tighten on mine.

Kade's brilliant amber eyes flash to me, and his entire demeanor changes. Just moments ago, I would have said he was the handsome and charming guy the media swoons over, but now, I'm not so sure. I take a drink from my glass and look away from his intense gaze.

"If I had known she was with you, trust me, I would not have approached her," Kade says.

Bile rises in my throat, and my mind races to find some justification for his sudden contempt.

Asher takes a step forward, clenching his hands at his sides, and he squares his shoulders. I look around for anyone watching, but they're caught up in their own conversations. I don't want to embarrass Asher by looking like I'm fighting his battle, but this could get out of hand quickly.

"Fuck you, Slone," Asher spits.

I grab his hand, pulling him back to my side. "Ash," I plea. He looks over his shoulder, and I mouth the word don't.

Asher takes a deep breath and runs his hand over his face before pointing a finger at Kade's chest. "Stay away from me and most definitely stay away from her."

Taking a step back, Kade puts his hands up. "That won't be a problem." He looks past Asher at me, shakes his head while rolling his eyes, and walks off.

Mere seconds pass before Asher pulls me to my feet. "Let's get out of here."

I struggle to keep up with his pace as he maneuvers us through the crowd like he can't put space between him and Kade quick enough. Asher pulls his phone out of his pocket and informs the person on the other end to have the car ready. We exit the building, and he steps behind me so I can enter the back of a black Town Car. I slide all the way over, making room for him.

The car is quiet as I stare out the window. The lights of Sunset Boulevard are streaks of neon as we speed down the road. Swarms of people scurry around the sidewalks in search of their vice for the night—alcohol, drugs, sex, or whatever else will temporarily relieve them from the burdens of reality. Most of them struggle day in and day out in search of the ultimate dream—fame.

After witnessing Asher achieve everything they think they want, I cannot fathom why they all hunger for fame. I know the sacrifice sometimes doesn't seem worth it. Not that Asher is ungrateful for his success or the legions of fans, but he misses being normal. I miss us being normal, and I hang on to the truth that life will not always be like this.

"A.J., are you all right?" The warmth of his hand on my thigh contrasts the cold leather seat under my legs.

"I'm fine."

"Are you mad at me?"

I shift in my seat and look at him. "Not at all. I guess I was just a little floored to see you so upset with someone. What's your deal with Kade?"

"He's just a dick. I've met him a couple of times, and we don't get along." He scoots closer and wraps me in his arms. "Let's not talk about him. I only have you for tonight, and I don't want to ruin it."

I straighten the lapel of his jacket and nod. My lips pull into a smile, and I fight through my disappointment. One single night is all we have before he leaves on the European leg of his tour. He's right; we need to make the best of our time together.

The tall building Asher calls his Los Angeles home comes into view. Hundreds of large windows adorn the modern high-rise, lighting up as the focal point of the block. A doorman stands at the front and greets us as he opens the car door, and we rush inside the lobby. It holds the same modern feel like the outside, with crisp white furnishings and gold fixtures. Even the man at the concierge desk is dressed in a sleek black suit. Everything is precisely placed, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and luxury.

The shiny doors of the elevator open and together we enter. Asher selects his floor and punches in the security code before leaning against the mirrored wall and pulling me to his chest. His body is solid muscle—hills and valleys covered in smooth bronze skin. I curl my fingers around his biceps and take a deep breath, calming my racing heart. He smells like his favorite cologne—clean and woodsy. It's hard to be this close to him and keep my composure.

"I've missed you so much." His lips press into mine and a little moan escapes me. His tongue brushes across my upper lip and my fingers hold back of his neck. I've yearned for hours to have him in my arms, and now that I have him I don't want to let go. But the kiss ends too soon when the doors open to his floor.

Asher entwines our fingers and walks to his condo. He opens the door, flips a switch on the wall, casting the room in dim light. The condo is a huge open floor plan with two bedrooms. Everything is black, white, and steel. In front of the large flat-screen television on the wall are black a leather couch and matching chairs. Beyond the black high-top dining table is the kitchen; full of shiny silver appliances and black marble on the countertops that are spotless. His house is more like the upscale hotels we stay in when he's on the road. Everything is pristine and not the least bit welcoming like a home should be.

The sensation of being watched washes over me, and I find Asher leaning against the door frame with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. He's removed his jacket and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt. His blue eyes catch the light, sparkling while he stares at me.

I'm unable to resist and move toward him. He doesn't wait for me but pushes off the wall and pulls me into his arms. His lips meet mine in a frantic and needy kiss that sends little flutters loose in my stomach. I wrap my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers in his thick hair, and he guides me to walk backward. I come to a stop when the arm of the couch hits the back of my legs. Now that I'm pinned in place, his lips move to my neck and the sensitive area behind my ear. His hands roam down my waist to the short hem of my dress, and I'm met with cool air as he moves the fabric up. The sensation sends reality rushing in.

"Ash, slow down," I say between labored breaths.

"I know, baby. I've just missed you so much," he whispers and pulls my studded diamond earring into his mouth.

I moan and my knees weaken, but my conscience is intact and starts an internal battle. The little devil wants me to give Asher just a couple more minutes. This feels so good, and I've missed him so much. The little angel, with the voice of my nonna, tells me be a good girl in Italian. I fight and push her to the back of my mind as Asher's hands continue their journey up my thigh. I want to go further. I love Asher, and I'm an adult capable of making decisions about my love life. But when his fingers brush the lace of my panties, the war is won—Nonna comes through loud and clear. I grasp his hand and shake my head.

Asher shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, making the dimple in the middle of his chin predominate. He rests his forehead to mine and exhales.

"I'm sorry," I say.

He moves away from me, and with his hands covering his face, he paces from the couch and dining area.

I pull the bottom corner of my lip into my mouth and glance around the living room. A metal sculpture next to the TV draws my attention. It depicts a nude woman with her arms raised above her head and breast thrust forward. She looks so uninhibited, confident, and brave. She's everything I'm not.

The clicking sound of Asher's shoes stops, and I wait.

"Please tell me this isn't about her?"

Her being Nonna, my grandmother.

I hate this conversation. We've had it too many times, and he never seems to get it. Irritation boils within me as I face him. "It's not about Nonna. It's about what I'm willing to live with."

Asher glares at me, a mixture of hurt and frustration. "What you can live with? Are you kidding me, A.J.? We've been together for two years, and you worry that you can't live knowing you've given your virginity to me? Gotcha."

My heart sinks. That is not what I mean at all.

I've grown up surrounded by real-life epic love stories, and I want what they had. Nonna was born and raised in Italy and is from an old school frame of mind. Her and my grandfather found love young and married in their teens. She's told me the story of their love countless time. How they met when she was fourteen at a village festival, and he was arrogant and obnoxious. But one day everything changed, and she fell deeply in love with him. She said it was at the darkest moment of her life, and he was there for her. She has only loved my nonno. Even though he died ten years ago, she has never longed to be with anyone but him. There is never any regret that I gave your nonno all of me. He was my everything, she says with the most unrestrained love.

I know Asher and I will have that one day, so why rush it?

I step forward and take Asher's hands into mine. "You know I want to be with you; only you."

"Then let me show you how much I love you." His features soften, and he gives me a small smile.

I run my fingertips over the stubble along his jaw. "I just need a little longer. I promise."

His gaze holds mine, and he nods.

"Come to bed with me and let me show you how much I love you in other ways. I don't want to fight with you when we only have tonight." I pull him towards his room.

He can never stay mad at me for long and gives in. "You know I can never deny you, A.J."