“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.
I nod, but I don’t pull away. I can’t. My gaze lifts to meet his, and the air shifts. The tension that’s always between us tightens, electric and suffocating.
“You should be more careful,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to my lips. My stomach dips and my legs feel weak.
“Maybe you should stop leaving cables everywhere,” I counter, but my voice is shaky.
His lips twitch, the ghost of a smile. “Always have an answer, don’t you?”
“Always,” I whisper.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him, maybe it’s me. All I know is that one moment we’re standing there, caught in a battle of words, and the next his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is fierce, almost desperate. His hands slide up to cup my face, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and I melt—completely, utterly melt—into him. If I weren’t wearing scentblockers he would have no doubt of what I’m feeling. As it is, they are weak, letting out some of my perfume. Probably enough for him to smell.
For a few blissful seconds, the world falls away. There’s no past, no pain, no mistakes. Just him.
But then reality slams into me like a freight train. He had sex with me and then walked away. No. I can’t do that again, I need to clear the air…let him know that there is no Owen anymore, that he was out of the picture from before I stepped foot into their studio for the first time. I pull back, my breathing ragged, my heart pounding like I’ve just run a marathon.
“West, this—” I start, but the words die in my throat when I see the look in his eyes.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice raw. “Don’t say it didn’t mean anything. I know it did. Even if you have a boyfriend.”
I don’t have time to tell him that I don’t have a boyfriend and it means everything. The door to the backstage area creaks open, flooding the room with faint light. I turn and catch Xayden standing in the doorway.
“Looks like I missed the fireworks.” He steps into the room, his eyes on me. And his perceptive gaze reads it all, I know he does.
West tenses, his hands falling away from me. I take a step back, the distance between us suddenly feeling like a chasm.
Xayden’s gaze flicks between us, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Should I leave you two to...finish whatever that was?”
My face burns. “It’s not what it looks like.” It probably is exactly what it looks like, a kiss, possibly more, in the dark.
Xayden chuckles, crossing his arms. “Sure, Ash. Whatever you say.”
I glance at West, hoping for...something. A denial, a defense, a reassurance. But he’s silent, his expression impossible to read, his stormy gaze fixed on me like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
Straightening, I reach for the tablet on the floor, the thin electronic feeling like the only barrier I have left. “I need to go,” I mutter, my voice tight as I push past Xayden.
He doesn’t stop me, just steps aside with a teasing look I don’t have the energy to decipher.
As I walk away, my footsteps echo in the empty hallway, but the heat of West’s kiss clings to me, a brand I can’t shake. I don’t look back.
CHAPTER 17
Xayden
The moment Ashbrushes past me, her scent—strawberries and cream—lingers in the air, a faint trail of what she’s feeling but won’t say. I stay rooted in place, watching her retreating figure. There’s tension in her shoulders, the kind that says she’s barely holding it together.
West hasn’t moved since she left. He’s still standing there, his hands at his sides, clenched like he’s trying to keep himself in check. His jaw works like he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start.
For a few minutes, neither of us talk, and West watches me warily like I’m going to call him out for kissing Ash. Because even without actually seeing it, I know what Ash looks like when she’s been kissed.
I step further into the room, letting the door click shut behind me. The light dims again, but the tension in the air doesn’t. It wraps around both of us, heavy and unrelenting.
“So,” I say lightly, crossing my arms as I lean back against the wall. “You going to tell me what that was, or should I make my own assumptions?”
West exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t?—”
