35. Ashlyn
CHAPTER 35
Ashlyn
The morning sun filters through my apartment windows, but it does little to chase away the storm swirling inside me. I’m starting to think Lilah was on to something when she used blankets to block it out. I sit at the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in hand, staring blankly at the untouched toast on my plate.
Last night with Todd keeps replaying in my mind. The way he pulled me in, the way his kiss left me breathless. For the cameras , I remind myself for the hundredth time. But my chest tightens with every repetition.
Because it didn’t feel like it was for the cameras.
I exhale, shaking my head as if it’ll clear the lingering heat from his touch. The sound of Shelley’s ringtone breaks the stillness, jolting me back to the present.
“Morning, Shelley,” I answer, my voice clipped.
“Good morning, darling!” she chirps, far too chipper for this early. “How are you feeling after last night? The photos are everywhere . Social media’s eating it up.”
“Of course they are,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “You tipped off half of Manhattan’s paparazzi.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she says, dismissively. “It worked, didn’t it? The chemistry between you and Todd is undeniable. And the audience is going to love the next phase.”
I pause, the mug halfway to my lips. “The next phase?”
“Oh, yes. That’s why I’m calling,” she says, her tone shifting into business mode. “We’re postponing filming for two weeks.”
“What?” I sit up straighter, confusion and alarm prickling down my spine. “Why?”
“To give you time to go on the start of the band’s tour,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s a perfect way to cement the fake dating angle. Public appearances, backstage photos, maybe even a couple of interviews.”
My heart drops into my stomach. “Shelley, I don’t think?—”
“It’s already arranged,” she cuts me off, her tone firm. “The audience loves the idea of you and the guys. This will give us time to build the momentum. Think of the headlines, Ashlyn. The buzz .”
I grip the edge of the counter, trying to keep my voice steady. “Shelley, this is?—”
“Amazing, I know,” she interrupts again. “Your flight’s booked for tomorrow. Pack light. Most of your clothes will be provided.”
The line goes dead before I can get another word in.
I set my phone down, my heart pounding. Go on tour with them? With Todd, who kissed me like he wanted to claim me? With Jake, who held me like he didn’t want to let go? With Xayden and West, whose gazes linger like they still see me as theirs?
And with my heat less than two weeks away?
I rub my temples, the reality of the situation crashing over me. Being with them—spending time with them—feels like both a dream and a nightmare. The more I’m around them, the harder it is to ignore the way my body reacts, the way my heart aches to believe this isn’t just for show.
I’ll need to contact my doctor for some heat blockers. Hiding a heat from three alphas and a beta that I’m scent matched to would be impossible. Especially since I’d probably offer myself up on a silver platter.
I glance at my coffee, now lukewarm and unappealing, and push it aside.
Two weeks with them.
Crap. I’m really doing this.
A sleek town car pulls up outside my building at seven sharp, the city already buzzing with the morning rush. The streets blur past as we weave through traffic, the steady hum of the car doing nothing to calm the storm inside me.
The drive to the airport feels faster than it should, and the efficiency of TSA is almost unnerving. By the time I’m escorted across the tarmac toward a small private plane, my nerves are stretched thin.
As we approach, I see another car pulling up ahead of us. The doors swing open, and one by one, the guys climb out, their movements casual yet deliberate. Each of them makes my heart skip a beat and my palms go clammy.
Todd adjusts the strap of his guitar case as he pulls it from the trunk, his stance confident but relaxed. Jake steps out next, his phone in one hand, scanning something with his usual calm focus. West follows, running a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. Last is Xayden, a grin already tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tosses a drumstick between his fingers.
They haven’t noticed me yet, their focus on the plane and the crew bustling around it. I watch from the car, my stomach flipping at the sight of them together, a unit I left behind and now somehow find myself slipping back into.
The driver pulls to a stop, and my door opens. I step out, smoothing my jacket as I glance toward them.
Xayden’s the first to notice, his gaze locking on mine almost instantly. As if he has an alert that tells him when I’m around. His grin widens, and he nudges Todd, who turns, his expression softening slightly when our eyes meet. Jake and West follow suit, their stares steady, unreadable, but carrying emotions I can feel even from here.
And just like that, the air shifts.
This is real now. No cameras. No audience. Just us.
And I have no idea how this is going to go.
I hesitate as the driver steps around to grab my bag, holding it out to me. Before I can take it, Jake is there, reaching for it instead.
“Ash,” he says, his voice steady and warm. “I’m glad you could make it.”
I glance up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. He means it. He’s happy I’m here.
It eases something inside of me, a knot of tension I didn’t even realize I was holding. A part of me was sure they’d resent this—the fact that I’ve been sent to tag along for the first two weeks of their tour, disrupting whatever rhythm they’ve already built.
But Jake’s expression is calm, reassuring, and it takes the edge off my nerves.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, my gaze dropping briefly before I look back up.
Before I can take another step, Xayden is there, twirling a drumstick in one hand while the other tugs lightly at the strap of my carry-on. “I can carry this one for you, Ash. Don’t want you breaking a nail now,” he teases, his grin playful but his tone gentler than usual.
I roll my eyes, but the tension in my chest eases a little more. “I think I can manage without your help, Xayden.”
He chuckles, stepping aside but not without tossing me a wink. “Sure, sure. Just trying to make a good impression.”
Todd strolls up next, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking between me and the plane. “You sleep at all?” he asks, his tone casual, but there’s something deeper in the way his eyes linger on mine, like he wants to say more.
“A little,” I admit, shrugging. “It was an early morning.”
He nods, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Well, we’ve got a few hours in the air. Plenty of time to catch up. Or nap. Whatever you need.”
The warmth in his voice is unexpected and tugs at something deep inside me, a memory of the Todd I knew as a teen. The one who could make me feel safe with just a look, who always had a way of grounding me no matter how chaotic things got. The warmth spreads through my chest, soothing the edges of my nerves. I can’t help but smile back, even if it’s small, even if it feels like I shouldn’t.
West is the last to approach, hanging back just enough that I almost don’t notice him until he’s right in front of me. His expression is hard to read, as always, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low.
“Hey,” I reply, feeling the weight of his gaze as it settles on me.
His jaw tightens briefly before he exhales, stepping aside and gesturing toward the plane. “We should get moving. Long day ahead.”
I nod, following as they lead the way toward the steps.
They form a pack around me, their movements natural, instinctive, enveloping me in the center of their unit. It feels like the past. Like slipping back into something I’ve missed so much it hurts. But it also feels dangerous—dangerous to my heart, my carefully constructed walls, and the life I’ve built without them.
Each of them moves with an easy confidence, a kind of unity they’ve honed over the years. They’re a seamless group, a pack that doesn’t need words to communicate, and yet, as I walk with them, it feels like I belong. Almost like I never left. It would be easy to pretend that we were the same, that I never choose my career.
I imagine what it must look like from the outside—an omega surrounded by her alphas and beta, a complete pack in every sense. The thought sends a pang through me, raw and bittersweet. Because this isn’t that. Not anymore.