4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
H ayley had barely slept. She blamed the excitement. The reality of landing the biggest opportunity of her career was finally sinking in.
She sucked in dusty air as she strode through the narrow hallway of The Fallout, the San Diego rehearsal space they’d been practically living in for the last year. The overhead fans spun lazily, rattling uselessly against the heat, doing nothing to push out the California sun bleeding through the high warehouse windows.
Inside, the space was pure chaos. Flight cases were half-packed, cables lay tangled in messy piles, and stacks of setlists and travel itineraries were crumpled on the table like discarded thoughts. Kilgor was in the corner, drumming on a practice pad, mindlessly beating out rhythms as if his hands didn’t know how to stay still. Billy sat nearby, tuning his bass with the same unbothered energy he always carried, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Their tour manager, Zoe, paced near the merch boxes, her phone pressed to her ear, talking too fast in a voice that carried over the noise.
Hayley wiped the sweat off her neck, feeling the dampness clinging to the back of her shirt, and grabbed the iced coffee she’d abandoned on an amp earlier. The plastic cup was slick with condensation, and when she took a sip, it was mostly melted ice—watery, lukewarm, barely even coffee anymore. She grimaced but drank it anyway.
Her mind was splitting in a hundred directions at once. Pack. Rehearse. Get the label’s press schedule locked in. Try not to have a meltdown. She should have been vibrating with excitement—Australia, New Zealand, opening for Linkin Park. It was the kind of opportunity that changed everything, the kind of break most musicians spent their whole lives chasing.
It didn’t seem to matter how much caffeine she had. She felt off. Maybe it was the hangover. The chaos. Or maybe—
She flipped her phone over, staring at the lock screen. Maybe it was the fact that she called her ex after the bar—when she was too drunk to make sense—and said god knows what.
Jesse’s text from this morning still sat there, unopened.
Jesse: Morning, Fox. Going into work, so I’ll be off the grid for a bit. If you want to chat later or whatever, I’ll be around. Hope you feel okay after last night haha. Have a great day.
Hayley exhaled, heart tightening. What the hell was she doing? He’d apologized. She’d ignored it. There seemed to be a tacit agreement to just move on. They were three years ago. Then, drunk at 2 AM, she’d called him like an idiot.
And instead of calling her out, instead of being his usual cocky, selfish, infuriating self—he was just… nice.
Friendly.
Like they were two people who didn’t have history.
Like they didn’t have a past full of bad choices and tangled sheets and her eventually walking away because Jesse Navarro wasn’t capable of being anything but a goddamn hurricane.
Hayley chewed her lip. He couldn’t have changed that much. At his core, Jesse was still the same asshole—noncommittal, reckless, great in bed, but a disaster everywhere else. Right? Her fingers hovered over the screen.
She could ignore it. Pretend last night didn’t happen. Instead—she typed quickly.
Hayley: Thanks. Survived. We can chat later.
No emojis. No extra words. No unnecessary opening for him to slip back into her life.
She hit send and dropped her phone into her bag, pulling her focus back to the chaos around her.
Landing a last-minute opening spot for a world tour wasn’t just about packing a suitcase and hopping on a plane. It was logistics, planning, and weeks’ worth of work shoved into five days.
Hayley moved toward Zoe and Caiden, who were both hunched over a pile of boxes, merch crates, and a half-filled tour itinerary.
She cleared her throat. “Okay, where are we at?”
Caiden barely looked up. “About to tackle gear packing. Techs are handling most of it, but we need to check everything before it gets shipped.”
Zoe, still on the phone, pointed at a clipboard resting on one of the boxes. Hayley grabbed it, scanning the list. Flights booked. Visas confirmed. Press junkets locked in. Gear manifests still in progress.
Hayley exhaled. This was it. The moment where things got real.
She should stay.
She should help.
Instead—
“I’m actually not gonna stick around,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I’ve got a few things to figure out.”
That got Caiden’s attention. He lifted an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Hayley nodded. “I just need a second before we’re locked in. You guys can handle things here, right?”
Caiden smirked, tossing the Sharpie onto a crate. “Do you even have to ask?”
Hayley rolled her eyes, taking a few steps backward. “Alright, try not to burn this place down.”
Then she left.
First stop—the vocal studio where she worked as a subcontractor.
She slipped into a quiet corner of a café, phone pressed to her ear as she got patched through to Lena, the studio manager.
“Hey, it’s Hayley.”
Lena’s voice was warm. “Hey, girl! I saw the news. Australia! Congrats.”
Hayley smiled, tucking her leg under her chair. “Yeah, thanks. It’s all happening crazy fast. That’s why I’m calling—I need someone to cover my clients while I’m gone.”
Lena hummed. “How long are we talking?”
“Months.” Hayley chewed her lip. “We don’t have a return date yet.”
A beat. Then Lena exhaled. “I’ll make it work. I’ll let your regulars know.”
Relief flooded her chest. “You’re the best.”
“I know.”
They wrapped up the call, and Hayley closed her eyes for a second, breathing in the sharp scent of espresso and warm pastries from the counter.
One thing down.
She grabbed a quick bite—a veggie sandwich and a banana from the café next door—before heading toward her hot yoga studio a few blocks away. She’d been going to this place for years. Dedicated. Same time, same classes.
By the time she walked inside, the humidity wrapped around her like a second skin. The familiar earthy scent of burning incense, eucalyptus, and sweat filled the air.
The studio was dimly lit, music low, bodies already moving through slow stretches.
This was what she needed.
To sweat. To breathe. To just be.
For the next sixty minutes, she moved through poses, letting herself burn out the stress, the static, the restlessness that had been clinging to her since last night.
By the time the class ended, she felt lighter.
Not fixed.
Not suddenly sure of everything.
But a little less tangled up.
She rolled up her mat, shouldering her backpack, and stepped outside into the sun, feeling the warm breeze cool the sweat against her skin.
* * * * *
The moment Hayley stepped out of the yoga studio, the warm California breeze hit her, carrying the scent of salt and eucalyptus, pavement baking under the sun.
Her body still hummed from the class, muscles loose, skin damp with sweat. She adjusted her backpack strap, exhaling, already mentally sorting through the rest of her day—
Then she saw him.
Across the street, leaning against a sleek, black motorcycle, stood Jesse Navarro.
Arms crossed. Sunglasses on. Watching her.
Hayley’s breath caught.
For a second, she thought she was imagining him.
But no—he was real.
And so much worse in the daylight.
Tall. Muscular. Tanned. That golden-blond mess of curls barely tamed. Tattoos visible where his T-shirt stretched over his biceps.
And the way he was looking at her.
Like he wanted to devour her.
Her stomach flipped.
Jesse didn’t move, didn’t call out, didn’t wave her over.
He just waited.
Like he already knew she’d come to him.
Hayley swallowed hard, took a breath, then crossed the street.
Every step was a goddamn heart attack.
Every inch closer, she felt it—his energy, his heat, the raw, untamed pull of him that had always been her undoing.
She stopped a foot away. Close enough to smell the faint scent of leather, soap, and sun-warmed skin.
“You’re here?” she said, dazed.
Jesse pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, revealing those honey-gold eyes. His mouth ticked up in a half-smile.
“Yeah. Got off early.” He studied her, slow and thorough, like he was memorizing every inch.
Her black yoga set clinging to her skin. The way her damp auburn hair stuck to her neck.
Jesse’s gaze dropped down her body, then back up, his voice low. “Knew you’d be here. Thought I’d catch you.”
Heat curled in her spine.
Damn him.
She cleared her throat, shifting her stance. “For?”
Jesse tilted his head. “Got a minute?”
She hesitated.
She should say no.
She should say a million things that weren’t yes.
Instead—
“Maybe.”
Jesse smirked.
Then he swung his leg over the bike, patting the seat behind him.
“Hop on.”
Hayley blinked. “What?”
“Let’s go talk.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take you somewhere.”
Hayley stared at him, her pulse hammering.
She knew this feeling. Muscle memory. The heat of the engine beneath her, the wind in her hair, her arms wrapped around Jesse Navarro as he tore down the coast like the world didn’t exist. It was stupid. It was reckless. It was everything she wasn’t supposed to do.
And yet—
Her fingers curled around his outstretched hand.
And just like that, she climbed on.
The engine rumbled beneath them as Jesse pulled out onto the highway, merging smoothly onto the coastal road.
Hayley tightened her grip around his waist, the familiar hard planes of his body beneath her fingers.The wind whipped against her bare arms, tangling her damp hair, the smell of salt and sun and pavement mixing in the air.
San Diego’s coastline stretched out beside them—cliffs and golden beaches, the Pacific glittering under the afternoon light.
She let her head tip back for a second, closing her eyes as the warm breeze rushed past. And just like that, she was twenty-one again… wrapped around Jesse on his bike, his heat searing into her, the world a blur of speed and adrenaline and bad decisions.
She should’ve let this go. She should’ve left him in the past, where he belonged.
But as he leaned into the curve, his body moving seamlessly with the bike, his grip sure and steady on the handlebars—
All she could think about was how easy it felt to hold on to him.
And how terrifying that was.
About twenty minutes or so later, Jesse pulled off the highway onto a narrow coastal road, the sound of the engine fading into the wind and waves as they came to a stop on the shoulder.
Ahead, the beach stretched out, untouched and empty, a sliver of golden sand caught between the cliffs and the Pacific.
No people. No distractions. Just the two of them and the sound of the tide rolling in.
Jesse cut the engine, slid off the bike, and glanced back at her.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
Hayley hesitated, fingers gripping the edge of her seat.
This wasn’t a good idea.
Nothing about Jesse Navarro had ever been safe—not when she was twenty-one, and certainly not now.
But the way he was looking at her…
Casual. Like none of it meant anything.
Like she hadn’t once lived in his bed, tangled up in him, pretending she wouldn’t get hurt.
She hated him for that.
For making her feel too much and not enough, all at the same time.
But she still nodded.
“Yeah. Okay.”
She slid off the bike, pulled off her shoes, and left them by his motorcycle.
The sand was warm beneath her feet as they moved down the beach, the wind catching her long auburn hair, whipping it into a mess she didn’t bother fixing.
Jesse had already kicked off his shoes, walking beside her in nothing but jeans and a T-shirt, his golden curls ruffled from the ride, hands tucked into his pockets.
He wasn’t trying anything. Wasn’t touching her, wasn’t even looking at her much.
And yet—
She felt him. Felt his energy, felt the way his presence wrapped around her like a second skin. Felt the weight of all the things they’d never said.
“You still hate the ocean?” Jesse’s voice was lazy, easy.
Hayley snorted. “I never hated the ocean.”
“You sure?” He flicked her a smirk. “Because I remember a certain someone swearing the deep sea was a gateway to hell.”
She grinned. “That’s different. The deep sea is terrifying. I still stand by that.”
“Sharks gonna eat you?”
“Jesse.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s so much worse than sharks. The ocean is full of nightmare fuel.”
Jesse chuckled, and for a moment, it felt too easy.
Like no time had passed. Like she hadn’t spent the last three years trying not to think about him.
The waves crept closer, licking at the edges of the beach.
Hayley hesitated, then stepped forward, letting the tide reach her toes. The water was cold, shocking against her sun-warmed skin.
She sucked in a breath, grinning. “Still cold as hell.”
Jesse watched her.
Didn’t say anything.
Just stood there, hands still in his pockets, that unreadable expression making her stomach twist.
Finally—“You’re still the same.”
Hayley blinked, turning back to him. “What does that mean?”
Jesse smirked, eyes skimming her up and down, slow and knowing. “Still fun. Still a little na?ve. Bet you still think people don’t notice when you steal their fries.”
She gasped. “You always offered!”
“Food thief.” His grin widened, flashing those straight white teeth, those sinful lips that had once made her scream his name.
She swallowed hard.
Jesse had always been too much.
Too much presence. Too much intensity.
And yet, there was so much she still didn’t know about him.
They’d spent months together. Living together.
And still—so many things had gone unsaid.
She glanced at him, watching the way his shoulders moved, the way his gaze stayed distant, always looking past her, never quite giving her everything.
“I lived with you.” The words came out softer than she meant.
Jesse’s head tilted slightly. “Yeah.”
“That’s crazy.” She shook her head, kicking at the wet sand. “Like, I crashed at your place for months, but somehow… I feel like I barely knew you.”
Jesse was quiet for a long moment.
Then, finally—“You didn’t.”
Hayley’s breath caught.
Something sharp lodged itself in her chest.
Jesse turned toward the water, exhaling slowly, the breeze pulling at his golden curls.
And that was Jesse, wasn’t it?
Mysterious and frustrating and impossible.
Always holding something back, even when he was right there.
The sky stretched wide above them, clear and cloudless, the sun hovering just over the horizon, painting the Pacific in molten gold.
Hayley exhaled, pressing her toes into the sand, feeling its give beneath her weight.
Then—“Thanks for that message. Really.”
She turned toward him, hesitating. “It meant a lot.”
Jesse didn’t move.
Didn’t fidget, didn’t shift his weight like he was uncomfortable. He just stood there, watching her, his presence so still, so heavy in its quietness.
“You deserved an apology,” he said simply.
Hayley studied him, taking him in—the sharp, sun-warmed angles of his face, the way the golden strands of his hair caught in the breeze, the way his mouth, those sinful lips, curved just slightly.
He was right there.
Inches away.
So close but never closing the gap.
Her pulse skipped, traitorous, unsteady.
He smelled like salt and leather and something darker underneath. Something that made her dizzy.
Jesse exhaled slowly, looking past her, toward the ocean.
Then, after a beat—“I hit rock bottom after you left.”
The words landed heavy, unexpected.
Hayley’s breath hitched.
Jesse wasn’t looking at her now. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, the way the waves broke against the shore, rhythmic and endless.
“Drugs. Booze. Girls. Whatever I could get my hands on,” he said, voice even. “It got bad.”
Hayley swallowed, the wind tangling around them. “How bad?”
His mouth pressed into a hard line. “Bad enough that Adam wanted me gone.”
Her chest squeezed.
Jesse never talked about his team. Not really.
She knew how much it meant to him, how SEAL life was the only thing anchoring him to anything real.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
Jesse let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair.
“I fucked up on a mission.” He shook his head. “Wasn’t thinking. Took a risk I shouldn’t have. Could’ve gotten someone killed.”
Her stomach twisted.
She knew Jesse was reckless, but this—this was different.
This was him admitting that he had crossed a line even he wasn’t willing to cross.
“Jesus, Jesse.”
He let out a sharp exhale, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“Yeah. That was pretty much the Chief’s reaction.”
A beat.
Then, quieter—“He benched me. For a long time. Wanted me off the team completely.”
Hayley’s pulse hammered. “And now?”
Jesse shrugged, gaze flicking back to her.
“Now? I’m sober.” His voice was steady, but his throat worked like he was still getting used to saying it. “Been a year.”
A year.
One year of sobriety.
One year of him trying to claw his way out of something that nearly swallowed him whole.
Hayley’s heart ached.
But she wasn’t sure if it was for him.
Or for the version of him she had once loved, the one she had walked away from because she thought he’d never be capable of being this person.
She wanted to forgive him.
But her heart wasn’t ready to trust it yet.
Jesse watched her, waiting.
Waiting for her to say something.
To confirm that this mattered.
That he mattered.
Finally, she took a slow breath. “I’m glad you’re doing better now.”
Jesse’s lips tugged into a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Me too.”
They stood there, side by side, the ocean stretching wide before them.
The silence between them was less heavy now.
Not fixed. Not resolved.
But for the first time in years, they were finally speaking the same language.
“You’ve changed,” she said.
Something flickered in his gaze—something wary. Guarded.
“We wouldn’t be able to be friends otherwise.”
Friends.
She repeated it in her mind, testing the shape of it.
It didn’t fit.
Not with the way he was standing so close, angled toward her like his body couldn’t help it, like gravity was playing some cruel joke and forcing them back into each other’s orbit.
Not with the way she felt her breath stutter, her stomach coil tight, heat creeping up her spine as if her body remembered things her mind refused to touch.
But Jesse wasn’t chasing. Wasn’t pushing. Wasn’t hauling her into his arms and throwing her over his shoulder like he used to. And that terrified her in a way she didn’t quite understand.
The air between them was thick with tension, charged with something raw and unsaid. The waves crashed gently against the shore, the wind tugging at her hair, but all she could feel was him.
Jesse, standing too close.
Jesse, looking at her like he was barely holding himself together.
“So… what now?”
Her voice came out steadier than she expected, but inside, she was unraveling.
Jesse’s eyes flicked toward her, gold catching the dying sunlight. “What do you mean?”
Hayley inhaled. “Us. You and me. What’s next?”
His gaze locked onto hers.
And for one unbearable second, she thought—maybe he’d finally be honest. Real. Unguarded.
Then—
That smirk.
That goddamn smirk.
“Just friends, right?”
Hayley’s stomach twisted.
Jesse turned fully toward her now, tilting his head like he was waiting for her to argue. Like he was waiting for her to say something that would make this all easier.
“That’s what we should do.”
Should.
Not want.
Not need.
Just… should.
She could feel the lie in his voice.
Could feel his walls slamming into place.
And she was so goddamn tired of it.
She crossed her arms, staring him down. “You always do this.”
Jesse’s jaw tightened. “Do what?”
She gestured between them, exasperated. “Say things you don’t mean. Act like you don’t care when we both know you do.”
His expression hardened. “What do you want me to say, Hayley?”
“I don’t know. The truth?”
His head tipped back slightly, a sharp, humorless laugh escaping. “You think the truth changes anything?”
“I think it’s better than whatever the hell this is.”
Jesse exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his whole body tensing like he was about to snap.
Then—he did.
“Alright. You want the ugly truth?” His voice came low and sharp, eyes burning into hers. “Fine. But none of this will surprise you. I lost myself after you left. I lost everything. I fucked up bad. People didn’t trust me. Hell, I didn’t trust me.”
Hayley’s breath hitched, but Jesse wasn’t done.
“And you? You were the one good thing in my life, and I threw it away because I was too goddamn selfish to realize what I had until it was too late.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
He continued, “I cheated on you, Hayley. Not once, not twice, but many times. You know. I was too high to understand what I was throwing away. Too drunk to realize how much I would regret it… forever. But, I did it. I hurt you. And I’m fucking so damn sorry.”
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his anger like a live wire beneath his skin.
But it wasn’t just anger.
It was frustration. Hurt. Longing.
“But guess what? None of that changes anything. Yeah, I went to therapy. I got sober. I fought for my job, my life, being clean. I fucking did the work. And still—here we are.”
Silence settled between them, heavy and aching.
Then, after a long pause, Jesse’s voice dropped, lower now. Rough around the edges.
“I’ll never win your trust back.”
Hayley felt something sharp twist in her chest. “Jesse…”
“You shouldn’t trust me again.” His fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with restraint. “The best we can do is be friendly and stay loosely in touch—not because it’s healthy, but because I just don’t want a life where you are not in my life at all.”
Hayley sucked in a breath.
She should say something.
She should break this moment before it swallowed her whole.
But Jesse was looking at her.
Looking at her like he wanted to pull her in.
Like he wanted to erase the space between them and kiss her the way he used to—like he needed her more than oxygen.
His fists curled tighter, like it was physically painful not to touch her.
Hayley’s whole body lit up, remembering what it felt like to have his hands gripping her hips, his mouth trailing down her body, his tongue drawing screams from her… he hadn’t just been addicted to her—they had been addicted to each other.
She still saw that in his eyes—that dark, restless fire, the Jesse who wanted to throw her around, to ruin her, to tell her she was his.
He leaned forward, like he couldn’t help himself.
Her breath came short, fast, unsteady. But she didn’t move. Neither did he. His fists clenched at his sides, tendons tight, like it was taking everything in him not to reach for her.
And for the sole reason that all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and fall into his mouth—
She knew.
They could never just be friends.
Hayley swallowed, forcing air into her lungs. “I should go back.”
Jesse’s jaw tensed, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts like he was physically holding himself together.
Then, finally—he nodded. Understanding. That was as close to closure as they would ever get.