Aria's POV
After our marathon session, I collapsed back against the pillows, legs splayed out like a rag doll. "No more," I gasped dramatically. "I need a two-day ban on anything sexual, Aiden. My thighs are literally on fire."
I'd sworn I'd be the one in control tonight, but somehow I ended up pinned beneath him again. Story of my life with Aiden Carter.
I was just about to drift off when my phone blared from the nightstand. Fishing it out, I squinted at the screen and felt a little jolt.
Julian?
Why was he calling me at this hour?
I glanced nervously at Aiden, who was clearly eyeing the caller ID too. Something about his expression made me feel weirdly guilty.
"I should probably get this," I mumbled, pushing myself up.
I padded over to the couch, leaning against its back before answering. "Hello, Julian?"
"Aria," his lazy, confident voice drawled through the speaker.
"What can I do for you?" I kept my tone professional, aware of Aiden's eyes on me.
"I've signed on for a reality competition show this year—professional musicians mentoring amateurs to compete against other teams. We start filming in October for about a month. I was hoping you might help me out."
I grimaced. "Please tell me you're not asking me to be your amateur partner on this show."
"I submitted several names to the producers, but they specifically requested you. They loved our chemistry at the concert where you were my guest performer. The audience response was incredible," he explained. "And the compensation is excellent—fifty thousand per episode, and we're looking at ten episodes minimum."
Half a million dollars. My heart skipped. That kind of money would be amazing.
But then I remembered all the dating rumors that exploded after our concert appearance. I hesitated for two seconds before firmly declining: "I'm sorry, Julian, but I'm not looking to develop a career in entertainment."
"It's not about building an entertainment career," he countered smoothly. "Your fans want to see more of you, Aria. They want to watch you shine on a bigger stage, letting more people discover your talent."
He paused strategically. "Remember all those fans at the concert? The ones holding signs with your name? Don't you think keeping such a low profile is disappointing to the people who support you?"
Damn, Julian knew exactly which buttons to push.
Money was always tempting, but I had standards about which opportunities I'd accept. And my weakness—the one thing that could always get to me—was my fans.
I recalled the young women holding up signs with my name at the concert, how they'd shouted encouragement from across the venue as everyone was leaving, telling me they wanted to see me "on bigger, brighter stages."
At twenty-five, I'd already accomplished more than 99.9% of musicians my age. But I kept such a low profile that only industry insiders truly appreciated what I'd achieved.
The memory of Diana Hayes' fans attacking me online was still fresh. They hadn't just come after me, calling me a talentless hack—they'd gone after my supporters too. Everything seemed to revolve around entertainment value these days, when all I wanted was to play my piano in peace.
But my fans hadn't done anything wrong. They just liked my music.
I bit my lip, hesitating, but ultimately shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I think the people who really support me would want me to stay true to myself."
"Fair enough. If you change your mind, the offer stands until the end of September."
"Thanks for thinking of me."
"You're always my first call for collaborations," Julian said. "No worries about turning this one down. Next time, perhaps."
I sighed with relief as the call ended. When I turned around, I found Aiden watching me with those intense dark eyes of his.
"Julian?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.
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