55. Ashlyn
CHAPTER 55
Ashlyn
I tighten my grip on my phone as I stare at Shelley’s name flashing on the screen. I’ve been putting off this conversation, but there’s no avoiding it anymore. If I wait, she’ll find out from someone else, and I owe her more than that.
With a deep breath, I answer. “Hey, Shelley.”
There’s a beat of silence before she exhales slowly. “Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to hunt you down. You’ve been avoiding me, Ash.”
I sigh, rubbing my temple. “I know. I just needed time to figure things out.”
“Figure things out?” Her voice shifts. “Ashlyn, I hope you’re not about to say what I think you are.”
I press my lips together, bracing myself. This might mean my promotion is out the window, but they mean more to me. “I’m done playing games, Shelley. With the media, with the fake dating angle, with Owen popping up on live TV, with all of it. I’m going public—with the truth this time. I’m scent-bound to Primal Pulse, and I’m not hiding it anymore.”
Silence.
Then a long, slow exhale. She doesn’t deny anything or yell.
“You know, I had a feeling this was coming,” she finally says, and there’s something almost amused in her tone, despite the weight of the conversation. “I do produce a show about love, after all. I know when people are falling.”
My chest tightens at her words. “I never stopped,” I admit.
There’s a pause, then, “Yeah. I figured that out too.”
I close my eyes for a second, relief and anxiety tangling together. At least she’s not completely blindsiding me with anger.
“But Ash,” she continues, her voice turning more businesslike. “You do realize what this means, right? No more strategic headlines, no more perfectly timed media stunts to keep you and the show trending. You’re walking away from the leverage I built for us.”
“I know,” I say, my grip on the phone tightening. “But I’m done letting other people tell my story. I’m done letting the press twist my life into something marketable. This is real, Shelley. They’re mine, and I’m theirs. And I refuse to let the world act like it’s anything less than that.”
She groans, and I can practically hear her rubbing her forehead. “You’re killing me, Ash.”
I bite my lip. “I really hope not.”
Another sigh. “So, what’s the plan? You just going to drop a casual ‘Oh hey, by the way, I’m bonded to four rockstars’ tweet and let the internet implode?”
I snort. “Not quite. I’ll do an exclusive. One interview. No tabloids, no speculation—just me telling the truth. On my terms.”
Shelley mutters something under her breath that I don’t quite catch. “You’re lucky I love you, because professionally, this is a nightmare.”
A warmth settles in my chest, despite everything. “So you’ll help me?”
A long pause. Then, “Like I could ever say no to you.”
Relief floods through me. “Thank you, Shelley.”
She huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t say I never did anything for you.”
I smile. “Never.”
“Alright, I need to go fix the mess you just made of my press strategy,” she grumbles. “But before I do… are you happy, Ash?”
I glance across the room, where Todd is lounging on my couch, lazily strumming a guitar. Xayden is flipping through channels, West is reading something on his phone, and Jake—ever perceptive—meets my gaze, giving me a knowing smile.
A slow warmth spreads through me, my scent sweetening instinctively.
“Yeah,” I say, the truth settling into my bones. “I really am.”
Shelley sighs. “Then I guess I can live with it.”
I laugh. “That’s the spirit.”
She groans. “I’ll call you later.”
The line goes dead, and I set my phone down, exhaling slowly. That was easier than I expected.
Then Xayden grins at me from across the room. “So, what did the wicked producer say?”
I roll my eyes. “She’s helping.”
Todd raises a brow. “That’s suspiciously easy.”
“She loves me,” I say with a smirk, stretching my arms overhead. “And she knew this was inevitable.”
Jake leans back, smirking. “Damn right it was.”
West just watches me, something unreadable in his gaze. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
I don’t hesitate. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“Well, you won’t be doing it alone, sweetheart,” Xayden says.
The lights are blinding, the audience a sea of shifting shadows beyond the stage. I smooth my palms over my dress, trying to ignore the nervous energy buzzing beneath my skin. This is it. The moment I take control of the narrative. No more rumors, no more speculation. Just the truth.
Kelly Grayson, the host, smiles at me from across the glossy table. “So, Ashlyn, you’ve had quite the year.”
I let out a soft laugh. “That’s an understatement.”
She leans in, resting her chin on her hand. “You know, when you were last on my show, you had quite the surprise guest.”
I don’t have to fake the eye roll. “Oh, you mean the ex who ambushed me on live television?”
The audience chuckles, and Kelly grins. “Exactly. Which brings me to why you’re here today. You’ve been making headlines again, but this time, it’s not speculation. You’ve got something to set the record straight, don’t you?”
I take a breath, my heart pounding. And then, I say it.
“I’m scent-bound to Primal Pulse.”
The reaction is immediate. Gasps ripple through the audience, followed by applause, murmurs, and excited whispers. Kelly’s brows lift, even though she clearly expected the answer.
“So, the rumors were true,” she muses, eyes twinkling with delight.
I smile, feeling the warmth of it spread through my entire body. “Yes. I love them. All four of them. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”
The crowd erupts, some standing, some cheering. It’s a completely different energy from the last time I sat in this chair, feeling blindsided and trapped. This time, I feel free.
Kelly claps her hands together. “Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say—wow. I mean, we all saw the chemistry, but this? This is next level.”
She pauses, pressing her fingers to her earpiece. Then her smile turns devious. “Well, Ashlyn, since you’re full of surprises… I think it’s only fair we return the favor.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
The lights shift, the screens behind us flashing images of Primal Pulse, their music swelling through the studio. The crowd’s cheers grow louder, and my breath catches as four familiar figures step onto the stage.
Oh my god.
The second I see them, my pulse skyrockets. West, Todd, Jake, and Xayden stride toward me, looking impossibly good—like they were made for this moment.
“What—what are you guys doing here?” I stammer, already half out of my chair.
Xayden grins. “Crashing your party, sweetheart. I told you that you weren’t doing this alone.”
The audience laughs, and my heart stutters as Todd steps forward, reaching for my hand. “Ash,” he murmurs, his voice steady, warm, sure. “You’ve always been ours. And now, we want to make it official.”
The roar of the crowd barely registers because Todd is sinking to one knee, and the other three are stepping in close and following suit, surrounding me with their presence, their warmth, their love.
My hand flies to my mouth.
This isn’t Owen. This isn’t staged. This isn’t a desperate bid for attention.
This is real.
Jake pulls a velvet box from his pocket. He flips it open, revealing a ring—not one, but four distinct bands intertwined, a perfect representation of us.
West smirks. “Say yes, Ash.”
Xayden winks. “You know you want to.”
My vision blurs with tears, my chest so full I feel like I might burst.
There’s no hesitation. No fear. No doubt.
I launch myself at them, throwing my arms around Todd first, then pulling the others into me. The audience loses it , the cheering and clapping drowning out everything else, but all I can focus on is them .
“Yes,” I breathe against Todd’s lips before kissing him. Then I turn and kiss Jake, then Xayden, and finally West.
Laughter and cheers surround us, but all I feel is home.
I pull back, cupping Jake’s face with a grin. “You really didn’t trust me not to freak out, did you?”
Xayden chuckles. “Sweetheart, you tend to run when things get real. We weren’t taking any chances.”
Todd lifts my hand, sliding the ring onto my finger. “No more running.”
West grips my chin, tilting my face up to his. “You’re ours, Ash. And we are yours. Always.”
I nod, my heart pounding so hard I think they can probably hear it.
“No more running,” I promise.