53. Xayden
CHAPTER 53
Xayden
My phone pings, vibrating against the table next to me. I ignore it at first, too focused on arguing with Jake about whether or not we should add an acoustic set to the next show.
Then it pings again. And again. And again.
Annoyed, I grab it, expecting some meaningless tour update or maybe a ridiculous tabloid take. But the second my eyes land on the notification, my breath stalls.
"Ashlyn Robinson & Primal Pulse—Over for Good? Exclusive Details on Her Engagement to Owen Hale!"
The words slap me in the face. A fucking gut punch. My stomach twists as I tap the article, and there it is—a picture of Ash on some talk show set, Owen fucking Hale kneeling in front of her with a ring box open.
The fuck?
"Todd," I snap, my voice cold as I hold up the screen. He looks up from his own phone, his brows pulling together as he takes in my expression.
Then he sees it.
Everything shifts. The whole bus feels different, like the air has been sucked out of it.
"What?" Jake asks, already reaching for his own phone.
"Tell me this is bullshit," I grit out, but my voice feels off, rougher than it should be.
West snatches the phone out of my hand before I can stop him, his eyes scanning the headline, then the picture. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to. His entire body locks up, tension rolling off him in waves.
Jake exhales angrily, shaking his head. "No way."
"She wouldn’t do that," Todd says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s daring someone to argue with him.
I don’t know what to think.
It’s right there . A photo, a headline, a hundred media outlets picking it up and running with it.
My chest is tight. Too tight. I don’t fucking doubt Ash, but this? This is a nightmare.
"Then why didn’t she shut it down?" I snap, raking a hand through my hair. "If it’s fake, why didn’t she shut that shit down right then and there?"
Todd is already shaking his head. "Maybe because she was blindsided on national TV? Maybe because that dickbag knows exactly how to manipulate the press?" He gestures at the phone in West’s grip. "But I know one thing —she belongs to us . Not him."
West finally speaks, voice low. " If this is some media stunt, it’s backfiring. It looks real." His jaw ticks, like he hates even saying it out loud.
Jake leans forward, voice calm but firm. "Guys. We know her. If she was serious about Owen, she wouldn’t be FaceTiming us every night. She wouldn’t be falling asleep to our voices."
I want to believe that. Hell, I do believe that.
But this is the same fucking pattern as before—Ash being ripped away from us, her name dragged through the press, her career on the line.
The problem is, last time, we were the ones making her choose.
Now? Now it’s someone else.
Todd’s watching me, waiting. "She’s going to call."
Like clockwork, my phone vibrates. FaceTime: Ashlyn.
I stare at the screen, my pulse pounding.
"Answer it," Todd murmurs.
I swipe the screen, and Ash’s face fills the display, her blue eyes wide, her mouth already open mid-sentence. "Xay?—"
"Already saw it," I cut in, my voice unreadable even to myself.
She exhales hard, frustration clear in her expression. "Damn it. I was trying to warn you before?—"
"Before I saw a picture of my girl with some asshole’s ring in her face?" My tone comes out harsh, but beneath it, there’s something else. Something raw.
Her eyes soften, but I don’t let that sway me. "Xayden," she whispers, and fuck if it doesn’t make my chest tighten.
"Tell me the truth, Ash," I say, forcing my voice to steady. "Did you say yes?"
Her brows pull together, her whole body vibrating with irritation. " Of course I didn’t say yes. I didn’t even know he was going to—" she cuts herself off, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Can you just let me explain?"
I don’t say anything, but she must see the storm in my expression because she sighs and keeps talking.
"Owen pulled this shit on live TV. He didn’t tell me. He didn’t warn me. And the second the cameras were off, I told him no ."
The words hit me like a sucker punch, knocking the breath from my lungs.
I should have fucking known.
I feel the guys behind me shift, their own tension loosening slightly.
Todd exhales, shaking his head like he never doubted her for a second. West rubs a hand over his jaw, still tense but not furious anymore.
Jake leans closer, his voice cutting through the moment. "Did he touch you?"
Her eyes flick away for a split second.
"He kissed my cheek," she admits.
My vision goes red .
"Motherfucker," West mutters.
Todd’s jaw tightens, but he nods at the screen. "And what happened next?"
Ash lifts her chin, something fierce flashing in her eyes. "I put him in his place. Trust me, he won’t try that again."
Something deep in my chest settles at that.
Because this isn’t the same as before.
She isn’t running. She isn’t choosing anyone else.
She’s ours .
I nod, my grip on the phone relaxing just slightly. "Good," I murmur. "Because if he ever tries that shit again, we won’t just be watching from a fucking phone screen."
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but instead, she smiles. A real one, small but certain.
And just like that, the doubt is gone. It should have never been there in the first place, left over from my insecurities.
Two months.
I twirl the drumsticks between my fingers, catching them in a smooth motion before letting them spin again. My leg bounces, restless energy coiled tight in my body. Two long-ass months. The weekend visits didn’t happen—Ash was too busy with work, and even though we understood, it didn’t make the wait any easier.
But now? We finally have a break. Two whole weeks.
I settle into my seat on the network’s private jet—one of the perks of being part of their carefully curated storyline. This little trip home is courtesy of the show, but I couldn’t care less about the PR spin they’ll slap on it later. The only thing that matters is seeing her.
We didn’t tell Ash we were coming.
And I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees us.
Todd stretches out across the seat next to me, his arms crossed behind his head, looking as relaxed as ever. But I know him. His fingers drum absently against his bicep, his tell for barely contained excitement.
“She’s going to freak,” Jake says, grinning as he sips his drink. “You know that, right?”
“She better,” I mutter, tossing my drumsticks onto the seat beside me. “If she doesn’t, I’m marching my ass right back to the airport.”
West smirks, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You’re full of shit. We all know you’d grovel at her feet the second she looked at you.”
I scoff, but Todd laughs, shaking his head. “He’s not wrong, man.”
“None of us are wrong,” Jake adds, his voice lighter, but there’s truth behind it. “We’ve been waiting for this. I don’t think any of us fully realized how hard it would be to be away from her.”
West hums in agreement. “It’s not just her, either. I miss New York.” He glances out the window, the familiar city skyline growing closer. “Feels like it’s been forever.”
I shift in my seat, the anticipation finally bubbling over. “The second we land, we’re heading straight to her place. No stops.”
Todd grins. “Like we’d let you drag us anywhere else.”
The flight passes in a blur of small talk and shit-talking, the way it always does when we’re together. The closer we get, the more impatient I feel. I drum my fingers on my thigh, bouncing my knee as we start our descent.
As soon as we touch down, we grab our bags and head straight for the waiting town car.
Jake slides into the front passenger seat while Todd, West, and I pile into the back. The driver barely has time to shut the doors before I’m barking out Ash’s address. The guy doesn’t even blink—he just pulls onto the highway, weaving through traffic like it’s second nature.
The city blurs past in a mess of headlights and honking horns, but I barely register it. My focus is locked on the destination.
When we finally pull up to Ash’s apartment building, my pulse kicks up.
We don’t hesitate. Todd leads the way, his long strides eating up the sidewalk as we push through the entrance and head for her door.
I expect Ash to answer, but instead, her sister, Lilah , swings the door open, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Well, well, well,” she drawls, crossing her arms as she leans against the kitchen counter. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
I smirk. “Miss me, Lilah?”
She snorts. “Not even a little.” But there’s humor in her tone, and she doesn’t hesitate to step aside, waving us in.
“Ash is in her room, finishing up some work calls,” she continues, glancing toward the closed door at the end of the hall. “Give her a second before you barge in and make her drop her damn phone.”
Todd tilts his head. “How’s she been?”
Lilah sighs, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face before she schools her expression. “Busy. Stressed.” Her gaze flicks between us, her lips quirking. “Missing you idiots—not that she’d ever admit it.”
That makes my chest tighten in the best way.
Jake shoves his hands into his pockets, smiling. “Good.”
Lilah raises a brow. “ Good ?”
He shrugs. “Means she still feels it.”
“Of course she does,” Lilah says, rolling her eyes. “She wouldn’t have ever let you mark her if she wasn’t sure.”
I smile. She’s not wrong.
Lilah presses her lips together like she wants to say something else, but instead, she just sighs. “If you’re here to make things right, don’t screw it up this time.” She grabs her purse from the counter, slinging it over her shoulder. “And try not to make her scream too loud. She has neighbors.”
I smirk. “No promises.”
Lilah rolls her eyes, shaking her head like she regrets saying anything at all. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t forget that she’s been holding it together without you guys for two months. Be what she needs —not just what you want .”
Her words hit harder than I expect. I feel them settle in my chest, pressing against something raw. We’ve been counting down the days until we could get back to her, but she’s been here, alone, navigating everything without us.
Jake nods, his voice steady. “We got her.”
That seems to be enough for Lilah. She doesn’t say anything else, just pulls open the door and disappears into the hallway, leaving us standing in the quiet of Ashlyn’s apartment.
Todd is the first to move, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of the last two months. He glances at West, then at me. “Let’s go to our girl.”
And just like that, the energy in the room shifts.
Two months of missing her. Two months of not touching, not scenting, not holding what’s ours. It thrums in my veins like a live wire, and I know I’m not the only one feeling it.
We move as one, heading down the hall toward her bedroom. The door is cracked open, and as I step closer, I hear soft music playing inside.
West nudges the door open first.
And there she is.
Ashlyn is curled up on her bed, her laptop resting on her thighs, her fingers poised over the keys. She’s lost in whatever she’s working on, unaware of the fact that everything she’s been missing is standing in her doorway.
For a second, none of us move.
Then, like she senses us, her head lifts, and her eyes meet mine.
She freezes.
Her lips part.
Her scent, sweet and warm like strawberries and cream, blooms into the air.
Then she whispers, “You’re here.”
And just like that, we are.