27. Ashlyn
CHAPTER 27
Ashlyn
I press myself against the far wall of the elevator, feigning indifference, even though my perfume betrays me, swirling in the air between us like a confession I’m not ready to give.
Jake leans back against a side wall, his hands casually hooked into his front pockets, his calm demeanor doing nothing to quiet the butterflies erupting in my stomach. It’s like being nineteen again, back when the sight of any of them could set my world spinning—before everything fell apart. Before they made me choose.
The thought cuts deep, and I shove it away before it can take hold, my fingers tracing the zipper of my purse like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered. I fix my eyes on the glowing floor numbers, counting them down instead of facing the charged silence stretching between us.
But it’s not just silence. It’s heavy, thick with unspoken words and everything I’m pretending not to feel. The truth presses against my skin, unrelenting, no matter how much I try to ignore it.
I want this man… no matter the consequences.
The thought hits me like a jolt, stealing my breath as soon as I dare to let it form. I keep my eyes locked on the glowing numbers above the elevator doors, refusing to look at him, refusing to let him see how much he affects me.
But I can feel his gaze, steady and unyielding, pulling at me like gravity. The silence between us sharpens, making it harder to breathe, forcing me to bring my eyes to his. He stares back steadily and I yank my gaze away and back to the glowing numbers.
The elevator slows, the ding of the doors sliding open jolting me out of my spiraling thoughts. I step forward quickly, my heels clicking against the tile as I lead the way to my apartment, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.
We really have no reason to be alone. No cameras are catching our every move. Shelley isn’t demanding this of me…yet a sort of excitement swirls inside of my chest.
Jake follows, close enough that I can feel his presence without turning around, his green tea and sage musk wrapping around me like a tether. My hand shakes slightly as I dig out my keys again, fumbling with them as I reach the door.
I pause, my pulse hammering in my ears. I should tell him goodnight, send him on his way. But instead, I find myself pushing the door open and stepping inside, leaving it open behind me.
He doesn’t hesitate. He follows, his steps slow and deliberate, as though he’s giving me every chance to change my mind.
I set my purse down on the counter, my movements deliberate, controlled, anything to distract from the storm raging inside me. “Do you want something to drink?” I ask, my voice steadier than I expect.
“I’m good,” he says, his tone calm, but there’s something behind it that makes me stop.
When I finally turn to face him, he’s standing just a few steps away, his hands still in his pockets, but his eyes—God, his eyes—are locked on me, dark and unguarded.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he says, his voice low and steady. “This isn’t pretend for me. It hasn’t been pretend since you walked into our studio. And honestly I should have found you sooner, I knew where to look?—”
The words hit me like a punch, and I feel my walls begin to crack. “Jake…”
He takes a step closer, his hands falling from his pockets, but he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. “I know it’s going to take time,” he continues, his voice softening. “I know we hurt you, and I know it’s not going to be easy. But I’m not walking away, Ashlyn. Not again.”
I swallow hard, the knot in my chest tightening. “It’s not that simple,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. How can I want him with everything in me, yet fear the feeling at the same time?
“It doesn’t have to be,” he says, taking another step closer. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time. But I need you to know—I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
The raw honesty in his voice leaves me breathless. My eyes dart away, but his presence keeps me anchored, his scent steady and grounding in a way I can’t ignore.
When I look back at him, his gaze hasn’t wavered.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit, my voice trembling.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” he says gently. “Let’s just talk.”
He moves toward my living area and I swallow before following him. When he settles into the armchair, I curl my legs under me and pull a pillow onto my lap as I sit on the couch.
The conversation flows, easy and light. God, how I’ve missed this. An easy connection. When I was with Owen, it always felt like if we weren’t in front of the media flaunting our relationship that it wasn’t enough for him. But this right now, with Jake—it’s just comfortable.
We both relax. It’s just us. But it’s getting late. I clear my throat and bite on my lower lip, attempting to find the words to say, hey if you stay much longer I might jump you. Right, like I’m an omega that can’t control myself. I can. But I’m reaching the point where I might do something I shouldn’t.
I uncurl my legs and stand, moving toward my kitchen area. Nerves buzz in my belly. “Jake,” I start. What am I doing? I’m going to ask him to stay.
“Wait, Ashlyn. Just… let me be here with you tonight. Let me stay. No pressure. No expectations. Just us.”
My heart stutters to a stop, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. It’s exactly what I want. I nod, the smallest movement, and the way his shoulders relax makes my chest tighten even more.
Jake’s eyes flicker with something darker, something deeper, as he steps closer. His hand lifts, brushing against mine where it rests on the counter. The touch is soft, hesitant.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low as his other hand lifts to cup my cheek.
I don’t. I can’t.
My breath catches as he tilts my chin up, his gaze locking on mine, searching for permission. And then his lips find mine.
The kiss starts gentle, tentative, but the moment I respond—when my hands clutch his shirt like I need something to hold me together—it changes. He deepens it, his fingers sliding into my hair, pulling me closer, his body pressing into mine.
I gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to trail his lips down the line of my jaw, fire following everywhere he touches.
“Jake,” I whisper, but it sounds more like a plea than anything else.
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his expression intense, unreadable. Then, without a word, his hands grip my waist and lift me onto the counter.
The cool surface contrasts with the heat coursing through me, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is the way he steps between my legs, his hands spreading warmth where they grip my thighs. His lips find mine again, hungry now, like he’s been holding this back for far too long.
When he kisses my neck, I can’t help the soft sound that escapes me—a cross between a sigh and a hum of pleasure. His teeth graze my collarbone, his lips soothing the spot right after, and I shudder against him.
His scent surrounds me, steady and grounding, but there’s something headier about it now, something that makes my own rise in response. My body feels like it’s coming alive, every nerve thrumming under his touch, every breath tangled with his.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough and filled with longing. His lips press to the hollow of my throat, and I can’t stop the purr that rises in my chest, low at first, then stronger, until it vibrates through the space between us.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable as they search mine. “Ash,” he whispers, his hands tightening on my hips. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.”
My breath catches, my heart racing as I meet his gaze. For a moment, I want to tell him everything—to confess that I’ve missed this, missed him, even though I’ve been fighting it since I picked my career over the men I love. Even though I tried to forget them in the arms of other men.
But instead, I pull him back in, my lips finding his in a kiss that’s just as desperate, just as consuming as the storm building inside me. I let myself give in, consequences be damned.