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.
CHAPTER 38
Ashlyn
Backstage after the show,the air feels lighter, humming with the buzz of adrenaline and something deeper—something raw and unspoken.
“That went better than I expected,” Xayden says, dropping onto the couch and popping the cap off a water bottle. He grins, his energy still electric. “Not that I doubted it. I mean, who wouldn’t love us?”
Jake snorts, sitting on the arm of the couch and shaking his head. “Humble as ever, Xay.”
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Xayden replies, his grin widening as he points his bottle at me. “Andshekilled it. Admit it, Jake.”
Jake’s gaze shifts to me, his smile more tender than usual, a quiet warmth behind it. “He’s not wrong.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice quieter than theirs, though everything that just happened still lingers in my chest.
Todd leans against the wall, a towel draped around his neck, his eyes flicking between me and the others before settling on me. “You okay, Ash?”
I nod, though my pulse is still racing. “Yeah. It was just… a lot.”
“Good a lot or bad a lot?” Todd presses, his tone gentler now, like he’s afraid of the answer.
“Good,” I admit, surprising even myself with the steadiness in my voice. So much good, even if it is all for show.
West, standing a little apart from the group, finally speaks, his voice low but sure. “It suited you. Being up there. With us.”
His words hang in the air, and I glance at him, caught off guard by the sincerity etched into his face.
I hesitate, my hand brushing over the edge of my chair. “Well, Shelley will definitely approve,” I say lightly, deflecting because I don’t know what else to do with the heat crawling up my neck.
West’s eyes narrow slightly, and he steps closer, shaking his head. “This has nothing to do with Shelley,” he says, his voice steady and deliberate. “That song, all of it—it’s aboutyou.About how we feel. That’s it. End of story.”
The room stills, his words settling like a weight in the air.
Xayden leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his grin changing into something more thoughtful. “He’s right, you know. Shelley didn’t even know about the song. That was us. For you.”
I blink, the full meaning of their words sinking in. My throat tightens, and I glance down, trying to hide the emotions threatening to spill over.
“You’d better get used to it,” Xayden adds after a beat, his teasing grin reappearing as if to lighten the moment. “You’re stuck with us now. Because we’re not letting you go twice.”
“Lucky me,” I manage, but there’s no bite to my words, only a quiet warmth that surprises even me.
They laugh, easy and unrestrained, the tension breaking like sunlight through clouds.
And as I look around the room at them—at the four men who’ve somehow managed to find their way back into my life—I feel something I haven’t let myself feel in years.
Belonging.
