14. West
CHAPTER 14
West
I know exactly what the guys are doing—it’s written all over their faces.
Xayden and Jake flirt with Ash as if the years apart never happened, while Todd has become unexpectedly gentle with her, his rough edges softened by a sudden resolve to set things right. They’re all trying to fix the mess we created back then, to mend the void we left in her life—and in ours.
I don’t tell them it’s useless.
She’s different now. Hell, we’re different.
No amount of charm or kindness can undo the damage we inflicted.
It doesn’t help that I know the truth. She purred for me. Melted for me. Begged for my knot. And I almost gave it to her, until I remembered that she had a boyfriend. That I was not the person she claimed to love now, according to all of the magazines.
When I pulled away, she simply watched, without trying to stop me. I saw a quiet horror in her eyes—a silent regret that settled the moment I withdrew. She didn’t need to speak for me to understand, and I felt the same.
Though time had softened our past, being with her again—the warmth of her touch, the sound of her soft breaths, the taste of her kiss—brought everything rushing back, a reminder that I never truly moved on.
That night has stayed with me like a stubborn thorn, festering into something darker, something I can’t quite name. An obsession? Maybe. But she’s always been my muse, the spark behind every song we create. Our encounter was like striking a match and pouring gasoline on it. I write until my fingers cramp, channeling songs straight from deep within.
Every lyric, every chord—it’s her. She lives in the melodies, the rhythms, and the words we shout into packed arenas. She is the common thread woven through it all.
I watch her as the song settles over her. She doesn’t hide her reaction—not from me. I see raw emotion in her eyes, the pain etched on her face. She still feels something for us—I can tell. And yet, I can’t decide if it matters that she has someone else. Does that change what remains between us, or am I just fooling myself, like the others?
When Todd disappears backstage, Jake trailing close behind, I let out a slow breath and set my guitar down. The weight of it leaves my hands, but the ache in my chest remains. I step off the stage, my boots thudding softly on the floor, and start toward her.
She stands there, lost in thought, her eyes distant but still watching the empty stage. The tablet she clutches is like a barrier between us, a wall she’s built to keep us out. I don’t blame her.
“Hey,” I say softly, my voice almost hesitant.
Her gaze snaps to mine, guarded and uncertain, but something flickers behind her eyes—something that pulls me in.
“West,” she replies, her tone measured, her grip on the tablet tightening like she’s bracing herself. She’s going to break the damn thing.
That’s my fault. The way I’ve acted since we had sex—it’s definitely added some layers to her walls. But I hate it. I hate what I did. I hate the space it put between us. It’s stupid, but my heart could care less that she has a boyfriend.
I rake a hand through my hair, looking away for a second to gather my thoughts. The emptiness of the stadium stretches around us, but it doesn’t make this any easier. “Those lyrics,” I start, my voice quieter now, “they’re mine.”
She inhales deeply, her chest rising as her wide eyes lock onto mine. There it is again—that pain. The same pain I’ve been carrying for years.
“About you,” I add, the words heavier now that they’re out in the open.
She swallows, blinking like she’s trying to process. “You wrote them?”
I nod, dragging a hand through my hair again, nerves lighting up my stomach. “Yeah,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.
We stare at each other, the silence stretching, heavy with unspoken words. My gaze drops to her lips, lingering for a beat too long. I wonder if she’d melt again. Would it feel the same? Better? Worse?
But then the thought twists, bitter at the edges. I don’t want to be some stolen moment, someone she comes to when her boyfriend isn’t enough. If I kiss her again, it won’t be like that. If she’s mine again, she’ll know it. She’ll choose it. And it won’t happen in some fancy club bathroom.
“How did you move on so easily?”
The words are out before I can stop them, raw and unfiltered. They hit the air between us, loud and accusing, and I snap my mouth shut too late to take them back.
Her eyes widen, her cheeks flushing as she stares at me, her mouth opening and closing as if she’s searching for a way to respond.
“I didn’t,” she finally says, her voice trembling. The tablet she’s been clutching so tightly drops to her side as she shakes her head. “You think it was easy for me? Do you have any idea what it felt like? Losing all of you?”
“ You left us,” I counter, my voice rising, the frustration slipping through. “You walked away?—”
“Because of you ! Because of all of you!” Her voice cracks, and she takes a step closer, her emotions spilling over. “I didn’t want to lose any of you, but you made me choose! How was that fair? How could you think that asking me to choose between my love and my life was fair? I’ve never been whole?—”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. The sight stuns me, rooting me to the spot. She’s right. I’ve known it almost from the start.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Xayden’s voice cuts through the tension like a sharp blade. He strides toward us, his hands shoved in his pockets, but his gaze flickers between us, keen and assessing.
“No,” Ashlyn says quickly, stepping back and lifting her chin. Her mask is back in place so fast it leaves me reeling. “Not at all.”
Xayden raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Could’ve fooled me,” he says, his tone light but with an edge. He leans against a nearby prop crate, his arms folding casually. “Sounded like a heated little trip down memory lane.”
I glare at him, my jaw tightening, but he doesn’t back down.
Ashlyn exhales, brushing her hair out of her face, her movements brisk and jerky. “It’s nothing,” she says, not looking at me as she lifts the tablet back in front of her chest like a shield.. “Just clearing the air.”
“Right,” Xayden drawls, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before shifting to me. “Guess it’s a good thing I showed up, huh?”
The way he says it, half-joking, half-serious, makes my chest tighten. I don’t know if I want to punch him or thank him for defusing the moment. Either way, the tension remains, crackling in the space between us.
Ashlyn’s phone buzzes—or at least, that’s what she claims when she suddenly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes darting to the screen like it’s her lifeline.
“I should… take this,” she mumbles, her voice tight. Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and strides away, the click of her heels echoing in the cavernous stadium.
I watch her go, my chest tightening with every step she takes.
“She’s running,” Xayden says after a beat, his tone lighter than the tension hanging between us.
“Can you blame her?” I mutter, scrubbing a hand down my face. The reality of what just happened—of what I let slip—settles heavy in my chest.
Xayden pushes off the crate and walks over to me, his hands still in his pockets. He tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s almost solved. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
I glare at him. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Just pointing out the obvious. You’ve never been able to let her go, West. Not really.”
“I didn’t see you moving on either,” I shoot back.
Xayden just smirks, unfazed. “Oh, I moved on. Plenty of times. Maybe not the healthiest way, but I tried. You?” He shakes his head, his expression softening. “Out of all of us, you never even pretended.”
The words hit harder than they should because he’s right. I didn’t even bother pretending. “What’s the point? She’s always been…” I trail off, clenching my jaw.
“Always been what?” Xayden prompts, his voice quieter now.
“Everything,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t hold it in, okay? Seeing her, being near her again—it’s like it’s all right there, like no time has passed. And I hate it.” I pause, my fists clenching at my sides. “I hate that I still want her. That I can’t stop.”
Xayden nods slowly, his smirk fading into something more serious. “Yeah, I know. We all know.”
“Do you?” I challenge, turning to face him fully. “Because it feels like you and Jake have no problem moving on with your lives while I’m stuck here?—”
“Don’t,” Xayden cuts me off, his voice biting now. “Don’t act like this is easy for any of us. Just because I can smile and flirt doesn’t mean I’m not carrying it too. But you? You’ve been carrying it differently. You’re not just holding on, West—you’re drowning in it.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I look away, my hands flexing and releasing as I try to process.
“Look, man,” Xayden continues, his tone softening again, “if you still want her, then stop fighting it. But don’t think you’re the only one who’s hurting here. We all are.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Xayden claps me on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before stepping back.
“Get your head straight, West,” he says, his smirk returning faintly. “We’re all in this mess together, whether we like it or not.”
And with that, he turns and walks off, leaving me standing there in the empty space, alone with my thoughts and the echoes of a past I can’t seem to let go.