37. Ashlyn
CHAPTER 37
Ashlyn
The café Shelley picked for lunch is perfect for her kind of narrative—a cozy, picture-perfect spot tucked into the heart of the city, with just enough foot traffic to keep things interesting. She probably picked it because the outdoor seating offers the ideal opportunity for us to be seen without being overwhelmed.
We settle at a table near the front, a spot that feels a little too visible for my comfort, but the guys act like they couldn’t care less. Todd pulls out my chair for me without a word, and I murmur my thanks as I sit.
Xayden sprawls into his chair next to me, while Jake takes the seat on my other side, his arm draping casually over the back of my chair. Todd sits across from me, scanning the menu with an intensity that makes me bite back a smile, and West quietly claims the last chair, his gaze flicking to me every few moments as if to check that I’m still here.
“Do we even have time for this?” Xayden asks, spinning the salt shaker like it’s part of his drum kit. “What’s next, tea and crumpets at the palace?”
“Relax,” Todd says without looking up. “We’ve got an hour. Plenty of time to eat before soundcheck.”
“And to savor the rare sight of Todd actually sitting still for five minutes,” Jake quips, earning a quiet laugh from me.
Todd raises a brow but doesn’t respond, instead gesturing at his menu. “Some of us like to be prepared. Unlike certain drummers who survive on vending machine snacks.”
“Don’t knock the vending machines,” Xayden says, grinning. “Those little bags of chips are lifesavers.”
“Charming,” I tease, picking up my menu.
He winks at me, leaning back in his chair. “You love it.”
The banter feels effortless, like slipping into a rhythm I forgot I knew. The weight of everything else—Shelley’s machinations, the constant eyes on us—fades into the background for a while.
The waiter arrives, taking our orders quickly, and just as he leaves, a group of fans approach.
There are three of them, young and wide-eyed, clutching phones and notebooks like lifelines. One girl steps forward hesitantly, her voice trembling. “Hi, um, sorry to bother you, but we’re huge fans. Can we… take a picture?”
The guys are instantly gracious, their movements fluid as they shift into professional mode.
“Of course,” Todd says, his tone warm and steady as he stands.
Jake nods, his calm demeanor putting the girls at ease. “Thanks for saying hi. You want us all in the photo?”
“Uh—” one of them squeaks, her eyes darting to me.
Xayden stands, taking that as a yes, grinning as he flips the salt shaker and sets it neatly back on the table. “Come on, don’t be shy. We don’t bite.”
“Speak for yourself,” West mutters under his breath, eyes flicking to me. But there’s a faint curve to his lips as he rises to join them.
One of the girls shakes her head. “We actually meant… with Ashlyn,” she says, trailing off awkwardly.
There’s a beat of surprise, but the guys recover instantly.
“You want Ash in the picture too,” Jake says smoothly, motioning for me to step in.
My cheeks flush, and I roll my eyes at him, but a small smile tugs at my lips.
“Just with Ashlyn Robinson, actually,” another girl says, stepping forward. “We’re huge fans of your show. You’re such a badass, and your eye for fashion is amazing.” She beams at me.
The others nod in agreement, their excitement unmistakable.
Jake grins and steps back as I move forward. “She is pretty amazing. We’re lucky she’s our girl.”
“I guess we can share her,” Xayden says with a chuckle, shaking his head as he gives me space to join them.
One of the girls hands her phone to Todd. “Can you take a picture for us?”
I have to bite back a laugh at the look on his face as he accepts the phone and snaps the photo. Then the girls are all thank-yous and bright smiles, heading back to their table.
“You didn’t have to say that,” I murmur, glancing at Jake.
He shrugs, his hand brushing lightly against mine. “It’s true.”
“And we’re just being honest,” Xayden chimes in, his tone playful—but when his eyes meet mine, there’s something steadier beneath.
Before I can respond, the waiter returns with our food, and the conversation shifts back to teasing and laughter.
By the time we leave, the tension I’ve been carrying feels lighter, replaced by something warmer, something I don’t quite have a name for yet.
As we step out onto the sidewalk, Todd slides his hand to the small of my back, guiding me gently through the light crowd. Xayden fishes his drumstick out and spins it again, Jake keeps close to my side, and West lingers just behind, his presence steady.
For the cameras? Maybe.
But it feels real. And that terrifies me.
The roar of the crowd is a living thing, pressing against me as I stand backstage, peeking out at the massive stadium filled with fans. The energy is electric, every scream and cheer vibrating through the walls, through my chest.
Todd’s voice fills the air, raw and powerful, cutting through the chaos like it’s the only thing grounding the moment. He owns the stage, moving with a commanding ease, his presence magnetic. Jake is just as steady, his bass thundering through the speakers, anchoring the music in a way that feels like a heartbeat.
Xayden pounds out a rhythm on the drums, grinning like he’s having the time of his life, while West’s guitar wails, sharp and evocative, weaving the whole performance together.
They’re everything the world thinks they are—rock gods, untouchable, larger than life. And yet, when Todd turns toward me, nodding slightly as his voice fades into the last note of the song, they feel like something entirely different.
Mine .
Todd steps to the mic, his hand wrapped loosely around the stand. “Alright, we’ve got a little something special for you all tonight,” he says, his voice smooth and teasing.
The crowd erupts, the anticipation palpable.
He gestures toward the side of the stage, his eyes locking on mine. “Ashlyn, get out here.”
My heart skips. For a moment, I think about staying put, about letting the ground swallow me whole. But then Jake appears at the edge of the stage, extending a hand toward me.
“Come on, Ash,” he says, his voice warm enough to steady the nerves threatening to buckle my knees.
The spotlight swings in my direction, and I feel the weight of thousands of eyes on me. My feet move before my brain catches up, and I reach for Jake’s hand, letting him pull me into the blinding lights.
The crowd’s noise swells, the cheers like a tidal wave crashing over me.
Todd’s grin widens as I step into the center of the stage, Jake keeping a steady hand on my lower back. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Todd says, his voice booming over the stadium, “you’ve seen the rumors, heard the whispers. So, let’s clear it up.”
He pauses, glancing at Jake, then Xayden, then West before his gaze lands on me.
“This,” Todd continues, his voice steady and sure, “is Ashlyn Robinson. She’s our omega. And if you don’t watch it already, she hosts Omega’s Top Model. She’s a big deal.” He meets my gaze, and I can feel my blush rushing to my cheeks. Maybe this is for our fake dating, maybe it isn’t, but either way, my body likes it.
The crowd explodes.
The sound is deafening, a mix of cheers, applause, and excitement that shakes the stage beneath my feet. My face burns, but I can’t stop the warmth spreading through me as Jake and West close ranks around me, forming a protective half circle, with Todd.
Jake leans in close enough for me to hear him over the noise. “They love you already,” he says, his tone low and sincere.
Xayden pounds out a quick rhythm on his drums, tossing his sticks high into the air and catching them with a flourish, grinning like a kid at Christmas. West steps up beside me, his presence quiet but steady, his guitar slung low as his fingers flex like he’s itching to play.
Todd tightens his arm around me, pulling me into his side. His bare chest pressing against me, making my stomach flip.
“Do you all want to hear the song we wrote for her?” Todd rasps into the mic, his voice low and rough, carrying just enough heat to send a shiver racing down my spine. My heart stumbles, the crowd’s roar rising in response.
I glance up at him, wide-eyed, but he doesn’t look at me. His focus is on the audience, on the sea of people screaming their approval.
He smiles faintly. “Unfortunately, we don’t always get things right the first time we try them… For you,” he repeats, his voice dipping just slightly, enough that it feels like the words are meant for me alone.
West steps forward, his fingers finding the strings of his guitar, and the first few notes ring out—delicate and melancholic, but with a thread of hope woven through. It’s hauntingly beautiful, and it pulls the crowd into an almost reverent silence.
Todd’s voice comes in low, raspy but melodic, the kind of sound that wraps around you and doesn’t let go.
"We lost you in the storm,
When I told you to run,
Thought I was strong enough
To face the damage I’d done.
But the echoes of your laughter,
They linger in my chest,
And I’m chasing every shadow,
Trying to fix the mess."
Jake’s bass hums beneath the melody, steady and grounding, while Xayden’s drums come in light, a heartbeat that matches the rhythm of my own pulse.
Todd’s voice grows stronger, filled with raw emotion, and I feel every word like it’s meant for me.
"Second chances don’t come easy,
But I’ll take what I can find.
I’m holding on, I’m reaching out,
Trying to turn back time.
You’re the melody I’ve been missing,
The note I can’t replace.
And I’ll keep singing this song for you,
‘Til you take your place."
The lights dim slightly, casting the stage in a warm glow, and West steps closer to the mic, his voice softer but just as resonant.
"You were the light in all my darkness,
The truth I couldn’t see.
I let the silence fill the spaces
Where your voice was meant to be."
His voice cracks slightly, the rawness of the moment hitting him—and me—like a tidal wave.
Todd joins him on the chorus, their voices blending seamlessly, filling the stadium with a sound so full it’s almost unbearable.
"Second chances don’t come easy,
But I’ll take what I can find.
I’m holding on, I’m reaching out,
Trying to turn back time.
You’re the melody I’ve been missing,
The note I can’t replace.
And I’ll keep singing this song for you,
‘Til you take your place."
The final notes linger in the air, fading slowly, as if they don’t want to let go. The crowd erupts, the cheers and applause hit me full force, buzzing under my skin..
I stand frozen in the center of it all, Todd’s arm still around my shoulders, West’s gaze locked on mine, Jake nodding slightly as if to say, See? This is what you mean to us.
Xayden tosses his drumsticks into the air again, catching them with a grin before standing and giving a theatrical bow.
But all I can focus on is the song. The lyrics that hit too close to home, that feel like an unspoken apology and a plea wrapped into one. Moisture gathers at the corners of my eyes and I blink it away before it can fall.
Todd leans into the mic one last time. “That was for you, Ashlyn. All of it. Thank you for letting us have a second chance.”
The crowd goes wild, but I’m not hearing them anymore.
I’m hearing the guys. Feeling their emotions as if they are actually my pack. And I can no longer tell what’s real and what's fake.