Chapter 143 143

Chapter 143 143
Ashley POV

The sound of the doorbell startled me to the point of almost making me jump up. But even so, his expression had not changed, as he calmly opened the door. He exchanged a few words with whoever was standing outside, then closed the door and headed back to his seat.

"Well?" I asked when he refused to speak.

His piercing, dark eyes were hard for me to decipher. "If that is what Jayden says, then you have to believe him."

"So I'm jealous and worried for no reason?"

"Yes."

I let out a breath of relief that I did not even realize I was holding in. "Great. Okay. Please don't tell him that I have asked you about these things."

"I won't," he replied simply.

I flashed him a smile, and was just about to wonder what exactly he wanted my help with when a loud growl escaped my stomach, knocking me off my feet.

"You are starving."

"I think so." Wrapping a hand around my stomach, as if that would help, I smiled sheepishly. "I will eat something when I get home. Let's move on to you. What do you need help with?"

"Are you being called on?" he asked instead of answering my question.

I furrowed my eyebrows slightly. "No."

"Let's order something then," he said as he slid his phone off the table next to him. "It might take a while to do me a favor."

"Why?"

Instead of answering, Miles spun around in the swivel chair and dragged himself to the center table where, among the various music players and speakers, a static computer had been set up. The monitor came to life as he touched the wireless mouse, and he began clicking away, eventually causing the television screen hanging on the wall above the desk to flicker. I frowned as he kept dragging files between the two, and even more so as he touched a few buttons on the mixing tool, without really grasping what he was doing.

But out of the blue, music blared from the speakers.

There were no lyrics, but instantly, I knew that the song was an original work. I had no idea exactly, but as soon as the first few notes hit my ears, I knew that it had to be his creation. Maybe I really was a fan of his.

The voice cut off abruptly, right when the song was in progress. I opened my mouth to ask if there was a glitch in the software or something, but the first words I spoke were drowned out by the same song. Thinking that he might have just pressed the replay button by accident, it took me a few more seconds to catch on that although the song was mostly the same, there was a subtle change in feel throughout the beats. Not long after, the song ended as abruptly as before, and I quickly grasped what his piercing, dark eyes were intending as he whipped around to face me.

"I like the second version better," I told him.

"Why?"

"Uh, well... I just like it."

It sounded like a question, but he seemed to accept my answer. He nodded, and turned to type something into the computer.

"I'm probably not the right person to ask this," I said after a few seconds where only the tapping sound of the computer keyboard filled the air. "I hardly know anything about music. I like a song just because it is there; I'm not qualified to judge one version of a song over another. Besides, aren't there professional producers here? Can't you talk to them? Or maybe your band members?"

"No," he replied and gradually moved back towards me. "I want new ears to listen to the sounds I'm thinking of for my next mixtape. You're it."

"Is this for your mixtape?" I called out in shocked incredulity.

He furrowed his brow. "What, is that not good enough?"

"No, no," I said as I hurriedly waved my hand. "I just... I would never trust someone like me with something as important as your mixtape."

"Are you saying I'm stupid?"

"No!" I smacked myself in the face, frustrated with my cluelessness. "No, of course not," I said slightly more calmly.

"Good. Then I won't have to change my signature."

I chuckled. "Are you really serious about that? You think you are a genius?"

A glimmer of amusement appeared in his piercing, dark eyes. "Sometimes."

"Wow. That's humble."

He seemed about to utter a reply when my stomach growled. I grimaced. "Let's eat something before I can insult you even more," I pointed out.

"Come on."

The fact that Miles invited me to hang out so that I would help him make a mixtape - something that I knew, thanks to Eva, must be exhausting - made me sick to my stomach. Especially since he, as a pop idol, must have a hectic schedule almost every day of the week. Miles must have noticed my uneasiness while eating, because he chimed in.

"You sure did not eat much, considering the sound your stomach made earlier."

I looked down at my half-eaten burger and the fries that I had not even touched. "I have a small belly," I tried to dodge it.

"You don't have to lie," he said, looking slightly offended when my eyes locked with his. "If you are on a diet, just say so."

"I'm not on a diet," I said strongly. "I'm just..."

He raised his eyebrows. "You are just...?"

"I'm sorry," I started, lowering my gaze. "I can't help but feel like I'm trying to use you. Like I'm trying to take you for granted," I hastily corrected. "And it makes me sick."

There was a hush around us. I barely dared to breathe, shocked by the audacity of my own confession - also by my reluctance to lie. But, hasn't it always been like this with him all along? I have always told him the truth. And even though it was initially because he always managed to sniff out the clues himself, he had no way of knowing what I was really thinking.

So why don't I just lie?

"Ashley."

I gulped down and lifted my gaze. "Yes?"

His sharp, piercing dark eyes were nothing like his usual gentle ones. "Do you think of me as your friend?"

His voice was hard to read, it did not sound accusatory or forgiving. I moistened my lips before answering. "I don't know," I said hesitantly. "What about you? Do you consider me your friend?"

"Of course. Is that rude?"

"Kind of," I said, trying to sneak a smile. I was pleased with his answer. "But who am I to judge a genius? I'm just an ordinary person."

He snorted, as a slight smirk danced across his lips. "One of the richest people on the planet," he muttered with a snort.

I could not help but laugh even though the possibility of being in charge of all the resources and funding of Red Moon Inc. scared me to death. "Why are you asking if I count you as a friend?" I asked after spending a few moments in silence.

"That would change things, wouldn't it?" He adjusted his bucket hat, revealing a glimpse of his brown hair underneath. "You won't use me to get information on Jayden, and I won't use you to get feedback that doesn't favor my trail. We will be friends who help each other."

"Still." I stroked my arm. "Are you sure it doesn't feel weird talking about Jayden? I mean, we never would have met each other if it was not for him."

He had seemed rather laid back since I walked into his studio, but as soon as I finished my words, he instantly stiffened. "No," he said. "But I hope we can talk about something other than him once in a while."

"Of course," I said hurriedly, though I was still puzzled by the way he had reacted. Did I say something wrong?

"I will be right back," he said out of the blue as he stood up. "Don't touch anything on the computer while I'm gone."

"I won't."

He let out a small noise of acknowledgment before walking out of the room. The door locked automatically after he left, leaving me alone.

Since there was nothing better to do while he was in the bathroom - most likely - I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Jayden. Too bad, he was not picking up. As much as I wanted to try spamming him, I decided to limit my number of calls to two, and left a message for him to call me back on the last call.

My eyelids grew heavier by the second as I waited for Miles to return. I was hoping that my short nap in the car earlier would be enough rest for me to meet him, but my body clearly did not agree. Despite my best efforts to stay awake, it was not long before exhaustion overtook me. I heard the faint sound of the door opening, but I was already too deep into my sleep to endure the soothing numbness.

And so, I did not even notice when someone wrapped his long plaid flannel shirt around my body, protecting me from the cool breeze of the air conditioner overhead.