I swallow hard, her words hitting like a slap and a caress all at once. “I’m sure West will disagree.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, the cornflower blue of her irises brighter, bluer than usual, as if searching my face for the truth buried beneath my words. “Xayden, I know that we are all different people now. I don’t expect anything to come from a kiss.”
Something in her voice twists the knife already lodged in my chest. Is she trying to reassure me? That she’d understand if we don’t want her anymore? The thought makes me sick. How couldshe believe that? How could we not want her? Not regret the choices that led to this wreckage?
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, releasing her arm. I drag my hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together. My eyes dart away for a second, but I force them back to hers. “Yeah, we are different people now. I’m pretty sure the people we are now would never make you choose between your career and us.”
She blinks, and just like that, the mask slides back into place. Her scent—rich and inviting only moments ago—gains a sour hint to it.
“None of us are here for a second chance.” Her voice is steady, but it cuts deeper than a shout ever could.
The words sit heavy between us, but I can’t let them be the last thing that is said. “Maybe not,” I say softly but with enough emotion that she can’t miss it. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want one.”
Her gaze flickers, just for an instant, before she takes a small step back, putting more distance between us. “Wanting and deserving aren’t the same thing,” she murmurs. Then she turns away, her shoulders stiff as she moves toward the playback screen.
She’s right. We don’t deserve a second chance. I can’t argue with that. We hurt her. Yeah, we hurt ourselves in the process, and I haven’t been able to shake the hurt. It’s with me everywhere.
I step back and tug my drum sticks out of my back pocket before twirling them between my fingers and turning away. My whole body feels heavy, and my heart wants to argue, wants to prove to her that we might not deserve a second chance but we’d like to earn one.
CHAPTER 18
Ashlyn
Later that night,after keeping it together all day, my phone buzzes, drawing my attention away from the notebook in front of me. I glance down, and a text lights up the screen, making my heart skip a beat.
Todd: Can we meet early tomorrow? We can grab lunch and go over last-minute plans.
I stare at the words, my thumb hovering over the screen. They’re simple, straightforward. Yet my heart betrays me, twisting every syllable into something more. I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality. They’ve all been… different.
Todd doing a one-eighty like he didn’t basically warn me off that first day. Xayden checking in with me today, dropping his flirting completely when he admitted that they might want a second chance. Just the thought makes my heart beat faster. But I’m not sure I can do that; there is a reason we didn’t last the first time. That’s what people say, right? If they were the right person the first time it would have lasted?
I bite my lip, hesitating. My fingers hover over the keyboard.Lunch sounds innocent enough, doesn’t it?Before I can overthink it any longer, I quickly type out a reply.
Me: Sure. What time?
I don’t allow myself to reread the message, hitting send and locking the screen in one quick motion. My chest tightens, nerves swirling through me.
I glance at the clock—it’s time for dinner with Lilah and her guys. Shoving my phone into my bag, I grab my jacket and head out.
The short walk takes no time, and the restaurant is cozy, warm lighting bouncing off brick walls and polished wood. I spot Lilah instantly, seated at a round table in the corner. She’s glowing, her laughter soft as she chats with Rafe, Miles, and Elliott.
They all stand when I approach, each of them smiling warmly. Miles, always the gentleman, pulls out a chair for me.
“Hey, Ash,” Lilah greets me, her smile as bright as ever. “You made it.”
I settle into the chair, glancing around the table. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss a chance to see you all.”
Rafe grins, his arm draped protectively over the back of Lilah’s chair. “It’s good to see you. We’ve been hearing all about the show.”
Elliott nods, his expression kind. “And the band,” he adds with a knowing look. “Must be... interesting.”
I manage a small smile, but it feels forced. “That’s one word for it.”
Lilah reaches across the table, squeezing my hand briefly. “You’re doing great. Really. And no one handles pressure like you do.”
The conversation flows easily after that. Rafe orders for Lilah, teasingly suggesting she might want one of everything but ultimately knowing exactly what she’ll want. Miles keeps her wine glass filled but never pushes her to drink more than she’s comfortable with. Elliott, quiet and observant, chimes in with thoughtful comments that make her laugh.
Watching them together, my chest tightens. They adore her in a way that’s palpable, their love woven into every word and gesture.
