16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
F riday night had melted into something warm and quiet. No chaos, no shows, no schedule. Just her and Jesse tangled on the couch, a blanket draped over them, the low hum of a sitcom playing in the background.
She didn’t even remember which episode they’d started on—only the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, the way he’d absently played with her hair, how safe she felt tucked beneath his arm.
They’d dozed off like that. Curled up together, legs tangled, her body half on top of his.
Sometime after midnight, Jesse had shifted. Lifted her with the kind of strength that always undid her. She’d barely stirred, but she remembered the way he’d kissed her temple as he carried her to bed, whispering something soft and low she hadn’t quite caught.
He’d laid her down like she was breakable.
Then slid in beside her like he wasn’t ever planning to leave.
She woke slowly the next morning, still pressed against him, the faint morning light bleeding through the blinds in golden streaks. The room was quiet, still heavy with sleep, the air soft and warm from their shared heat.
Jesse was on his stomach, his face turned toward her, one arm slung lazily across her hips. The sheets were low on his waist, revealing the full stretch of his back—strong, scarred, sun-kissed.
Hayley let her eyes trace him, slow and reverent.
The curve of his spine. The faint bruises along his ribs. The healed cuts, the ones that hadn’t faded yet. Every mark told a story. Every inch of him reminded her how much he’d given to the world—and how little the world had given back.
She didn’t touch him yet. Just watched.
Let herself memorize him, like she was afraid he might vanish the second she blinked.
Jesse stirred.
A twitch in his shoulder, a soft exhale. Then he rolled toward her, his arm tightening around her waist instinctively, anchoring her to him even in half-sleep.
His eyes blinked open slowly.
Golden. Hazy.
He blinked at her like he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. Then, that lazy smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.
“Morning,” he rasped, his voice thick with sleep, the sound of it sliding down her spine.
Hayley smiled, heart twisting.
She leaned in, brushing her nose against his. “Hi.”
His hand skimmed up her back, trailing up her spine with maddening slowness, fingers ghosting over her skin like he had all the time in the world to relearn her.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Then another, warmer, deeper.
“You sleep okay?” he said, lips brushing her skin.
She nodded against his chest. “You held me all night.”
“Damn right I did.”
He moved again—just enough to slot their bodies closer, until every inch of her was flush against him. His hand splayed wide over her lower back, holding her there, like she belonged to him.
Maybe she did.
His mouth found her throat, dragging over the sensitive skin, the scrape of his stubble making her shiver.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said into her skin. “You belong here. In my bed. In my arms.”
Her fingers curled into his hair, pulling gently, breath catching. “Not so fast, buddy. Maybe a couple proper dates first.”
Jesse growled low in his throat, the sound of it vibrating through her as he kissed his way up her neck and finally—finally—captured her mouth.
The kiss was slow at first. Tender. Like he missed her too much to rush.
But it didn’t stay soft.
Not with Jesse.
His hand slid to her hip, gripping tight, dragging her on top of him. Their kiss deepened, mouths parting, tongues sliding, everything tasting like heat and morning and them.
Hayley sighed against his mouth, melting into him, letting his hands guide her, learning her again, owning her all over.
She felt him shift, muscles flexing beneath her, his mouth never breaking from hers as he rolled her onto her back, covering her body with his, the sheet falling away.
His weight settled over her just right.
Just enough to make her gasp.
She arched beneath him, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails scraping lightly across his skin.
He kissed her again, harder this time, deeper. Like he was trying to carve her into memory.
And maybe she wanted him to.
Her body ached for him, slow and simmering, that heat curling low and tight in her belly. They didn’t need to speak. They never did, not when it felt like this.
Just when she thought nothing could pull her out of it—
Buzz.
Jesse stilled.
The sharp sound cut through the quiet like a blade.
His work phone.
The ringtone again. Short. Urgent. Final.
He let out a rough breath, head dropping against her shoulder as reality came crashing back into the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Hayley let out a breathy laugh, but the sound quickly faded as Jesse rolled over, reaching blindly for the phone on the nightstand. She watched his jaw tighten as he squinted at the screen, thumb scrolling, shoulders tensing.
She already knew.
“You just got back,” she said, voice thick with sleep. “Please tell me they don’t need you already.”
Jesse hesitated—just for a second—but she caught it.
His grip on the phone tightened. “Nothing set yet,” he muttered, still scrolling. “Just my LPO checking in, making sure I’m alive.”
She bit her lip, exhaling slowly.
It wasn’t a lie.
But it wasn’t the truth either.
Because the truth was—SEALs didn’t get to be home. Not really. Not for long.
Hayley turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, blinking away the tightness in her throat. She should be used to this by now. It was the same pattern, the same cycle. He left. She waited. He came back. She pretended not to be counting the days until he left again.
And yet, every time, she still let herself believe it would be different.
Jesse set the phone down with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.
“How long do we have?” she asked quietly.
Jesse didn’t answer right away.
He ran a hand through his damp curls, looking at her like he didn’t want to say it out loud.
“Could be a week. Could be two,” he admitted finally. “Schedule’s fucked. I’m covering for the other demo guy—he broke his leg.”
She swallowed hard, nodding.
Jesse sighed, brushing his knuckles down her cheek, his voice softer. “I’m here now.”
Hayley turned into his touch, closing her eyes for a brief second. “Yeah,” she whispered. “For now.”
And they both knew it wasn’t enough.
* * * * *
Jesse stood at the stove, spatula in hand, golden curls still damp from the shower, sweatpants slung low on his hips, bare chest all broad and sculpted and impossible—like some cruel joke the universe was playing on her.
Hayley sat at his small, two-chair kitchen table, sipping tea, pretending she wasn’t staring, pretending she wasn’t still drunk on the feeling of his hands on her body, his mouth tracing every inch of her just hours ago.
Pretending like she wasn’t already addicted all over again.
She tilted her head, watching the ripple of muscle across his back as he flipped the eggs. “Since when do you eat breakfast?”
Jesse shot her a look over his shoulder, smirking. “Since I realized my pregnant girlfriend needs to be fed three meals a day.”
Her stomach flipped—girlfriend. He said it so casually, like it was obvious, like they hadn’t just crashed back into each other’s orbit less than twenty-four hours ago. Like he hadn’t just spent six weeks in the dark.
“Gotta dazzle you with my skills,” he added, transferring eggs onto two plates.
She rolled her eyes, cheeks warming. “Conceited.”
“Confident,” he corrected, handing her a plate. Eggs, toast, way too much hot sauce—exactly how she liked it.
She picked up a fork, watching him as he stirred his coffee, his big, calloused hands cradling the mug, fingers absently tapping against the ceramic.
“Were you sick on tour?” he asked, watching her like he already knew the answer.
“Not too bad. It’s still early. The nausea really kicked in this past week. Apparently, it’s the worst around eight to twelve weeks.”
“And you’re eight weeks now?”
“Yeah, they measure it based on my last period, but we probably conceived… six weeks ago.”
Something dark flickered in his amber eyes. Something possessive. His grip on the coffee mug tightened just slightly. “Have you told anyone?”
“No.”
Jesse exhaled, setting the coffee down. “I don’t like the idea of you, pregnant, running around at gigs, bars, clubs at night.”
Hayley snorted. “What, you think our fans will go for matinee shows? Dead Run Riot… unplugged at brunch?”
His laugh was low, rough, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t fade.
“When are you off on tour again?” he asked, casual, like he wasn’t already bracing for the answer. “I just got you back.”
Hayley swallowed, setting her fork down. “Well, everything has changed now. We’ve got a lot of offers and decisions to make.” A beat. “Meetings on Monday. Australia was huge for us. The label wants a full album, a bigger tour. They want to rent us an isolated location for creativity and recording, then send us on an international tour with some of the biggest bands.”
Jesse nodded, but she caught it—the way his jaw flexed, the way his fingers twitched like he was physically stopping himself from reacting.
“That’s good,” he said, and she knew he meant it. He was proud of her. He wanted this for her.
But still—
There was something unsettled in his tone.
“Sometimes I can’t believe I have a literal rockstar girlfriend,” he said, shaking his head.
“So, girlfriend?” she teased, raising a brow. “Are we exclusive now?”
He gave her the look. The one that melted her from the inside out. “Come on, babe. You are pregnant. Plus, if another guy ever touches you, I’ll kill him. How could we not be exclusive?”
Hayley’s breath hitched, her chest tightening.
“Did you want me to ask you properly?” he teased, a slow, knowing grin curling his lips. “Do I need to get down on one knee?”
“Stop. Oh my god.” She pushed at his arm, but he barely moved.
He just smirked, tugging her closer, his voice dropping lower. “For the record, I’m all too happy to hold your awards on the side of the red carpet… and watch you own this fucking world.”
“You’ll be right beside me on the carpet,” she said, tilting her chin up at him. “I’d show you off to the world—my hot fucking boyfriend.”
Jesse laughed, but there was something raw beneath it. “I’d have to quit the SEALs first. You know they have bans on us being out in the media.”
And just like that—the weight returned.
The silence settled in.
They finished their meals. Jesse sat back in his chair, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his coffee mug. But something lingered in his eyes, something unspoken.
“I’m really fucking proud of you,” he said, voice quieter now.
“But?” she asked, setting her mug down, studying him. “There’s something you aren’t saying.”
Jesse pushed back from the table, standing. He gathered their plates, carried them to the sink, and turned on the water.
She followed, leaning against the counter beside him, watching the tight set of his jaw, the way his shoulders tensed under the warm kitchen light.
“Jesse—talk to me.”
“Nothing.” A pause. “Just… wondering how the fuck we make this work. If I’ll be around here long enough to be there for you.”
Her throat went tight.
Because she was wondering the same thing.
He turned, finally looking at her, his hands braced on the counter on either side of her hips. His voice was quiet, raw. “My pregnant girlfriend. Rocking out with a bunch of dudes. Clubs, bars. Late nights. Tours. Around the world. And I’ll be somewhere… stuck… on an operation. We rotate out all the fucking time. It’s relentless. Now that I’m back active, and covering for a bud, I’ll spend more time out than in.”
Hayley exhaled slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through the damp curls at his nape. Tugging, just enough to make him groan softly.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said.
Jesse didn’t look convinced.
Because the unspoken fear sat heavy between them.
If she chose the band, he lost her. If she chose him, she lost her dream. And neither of them knew if there was any way to have both.