Arden’s shoulders instantly droop, and her gaze drops to the ground. She nods quietly beside me as we continue walking. Right. Jaxon Wilde isn’t just some washed-up bad boy to her. He’s something more. A symbol, maybe? A lifeline? And I just keep shitting all over it.
“Fuck,” I exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m not great at separating work from real life. I know this is all new and exciting for you, but I’ve been doing this for a long time. Probably too long. I’ve seen things I can’t even say out loud. Done things I wish I could take back. I don’t get excited anymore. Everything just makes me… tense. I don’t know.”
Arden’s eyes linger on me, like they’re searching for something. There’s no judgment there, but for a second, it feels like she’s looking beyond the version of me I let everyone else see to the one she saw at the villa… or at least trying.
She gently nods, “Well, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but it sounds like you need a break. Stop being so jaded and live a little!” The way she looks up at me and bites her lip threatens to send me over the edge, adding a quieter, “for me?”
“Keep looking at me like that,” I murmur, “and that’s not all I’ll be doing for you.” She giggles lightly, like a schoolgirl seeing her crush in the hallway, and I wish like hell I’d recorded it.
We’re let in through a side door leading into a massive dark stone hallway and greeted by the bass thrumming through the concrete floor. A broad-shouldered security guard scrolls through a tablet, asks our names, and slaps neon orange wristbands onto our wrists. Crew members rush past wearing headsets with coiled wires slung over their shoulders. The closer we get, the louder the sound check becomes. Arden’s eyes just get wider and wider. I can practically feel her holding her breath.
Then we turn a corner and step out into the massive arena. The stone walls with built-in seating rise above and around us. The place is completely empty yet somehow alive. Screens flicker, spotlightsflash, and a dozen crew members dart across the stage, talking into radios and adjusting cables.
Jaxon Wilde is in the middle of the chaos, barefoot on the concrete stage and skin slick with sweat under the afternoon sun. With the weight of the guitar digging into his shoulder and a mic gripped in one hand, his black button-down hung open to expose the ink across his chest, he’s the eye of the storm, and he’s loving every second.
Arden comes to a stop beside me, her expression unreadable. She’s taking him in, but her lips aren’t parted in awe like I thought they’d be. Instead, they’re tilted in a faint, amused line. I see the way she tracks his movements, and a sharp spike of jealousy hits me, but I can’t deny I love seeing the spark in her eyes.
“Bloody hell,” a voice echoes from the stage. Jaxon is staring right at us. He’s leaning on the edge of a speaker, mic in one hand, and his eyes zeroed in on Arden. “I didn’t think you lot would be here so early."
The British lilt makes his voice sound gritty and rough around the edges. It matches his whole messy, cocky, punk-rocker vibe perfectly. Arden instantly smirks. “We figured you could use an audience.”
Jax laughs, hopping off the stage and stalking towards us. “She’s a firecracker, this one.” He glances at me for half a second before returning his gaze to her. “I might have to keep you ‘round, love.” He winks at her, and Arden just exhales a short, amused breath, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. It’s a human moment, a tiny flicker of nerves, but she doesn’t lose her footing.
She stays planted right where she is, looking at him with a cool, expectant expression. He’s used to girls melting into a puddle at his feet, but she just holds his gaze.
“Nice to see you again, Jax,” I finally interject, fighting to keep my voice even and unbothered. He glances at me, then back at her, dismissing me entirely with a jab of his thumb as he mutters, “Shame you couldn’t come alone, love.” They share a brief chuckle, but I feelthe tension swirling thick in the air now. He didn’t faze her with a wink, so now he’s trying to get a reaction from me. I thought I’d have to fight off roadies, but I wasn’t prepared to stop Jaxon himself. Can I really handle a full day of this?
I step towards him, leaning in close. “She’s mine,” I whisper so low it almost comes out as a growl, “so cut the shit.” For the first time since we got here, he stops smiling. Just stares at me for a second, assessing my reaction. Then, raising his hands in mock surrender, he slowly backs away. “Just havin’ a bit o’ fun, mate.” Before he turns his back on us, I glimpse smug satisfaction on his face. He wanted a reaction, and he got it.
We spend the next several hours listening to Jax warm up and run through his set list. We kill some time talking to his crew, Arden listening intently to the music and singing along. Clapping after each song.
I think I caught her sneaking a picture on her phone and sending it to Lexi. We still haven’t learned anything noteworthy about Luke when Jax breaks for food and rest before the show. Arden and I tail him back to the green room, hoping this is our chance.
On the walk over, we agree she can take the lead in the conversation. She’s already got his attention, and she seems to find his shameless flirting more entertaining than intimidating.
“Well, what girl wouldn’t enjoy a rock star putting on a show for them?” she asks, her voice light and matter-of-fact as we navigate the maze of dark hallways.
I don’t answer. She’s right, of course. Most girls would live for this kind of attention. But as I watch her easy, confident stride, I realize she isn’t just soaking up the compliments. She’s matching his energy, and I realize with a sickening jolt that I was right when we got here. Jaxon Wilde isn’t just some washed-up bad boy to her. He’s still that symbol, that lifeline, and my irritation isn’t doing a damn thing to stop it.
When we catch up, he’s kicked back on a low leather couch in the green room with his boots up on a coffee table. His shirt is fully unbuttoned now, and his grin is still insufferable. “I was wondering when you’d get here. I saved a spot for ya.” He gently pats the open space on the couch next to him.
That gritty English charm makes everything he says sound like a pickup line. Arden plays it cool, matching his arrogant smile with one of her own. She’s keeping it light, but I can see the glint in her eye she’s trying to hide. The one that says she’s exactly where she wants to be. As for me? I’m seconds away from flipping the damn coffee table.
“Drop the act,” I finally say, jaw tight. “Let’s get to the point here.” I guess that got his attention because he instantly shifts in his seat, bringing his boots to the ground as he turns to face Arden.
Her smile fades as she shifts forward, resting her elbows on her knees to lean closer to him, playing good cop to my visibly annoyed one. “Jaxon,” she starts, her voice soft but serious, “we really came to talk about Luke. What exactly happened between you two?”
His smile falters, too, and for the first time, I see the sag in his shoulders. The adrenaline that was holding him up seems to drain out of him all at once, leaving his posture slumped and his movements heavy. There are dark shadows etched under his eyes that no amount of stage lighting could hide. He looks utterly exhausted.
“Luke’s been on one ever since I called him out in Monaco a few months ago.” He glances between us. “He was absolutely smashed at the pub, acting like a total dickhead. Started getting a little handsy with a girl who looked way too young to be there. Definitely too young to handle a guy like Luke when he’s like that. Of course, she thought he was amazing, but she was in over her head.”
Arden nods in silent understanding, “So you stepped in?”
“Of course I did, I couldn’t let him potentially hurt an innocent girl. I had to. I told him to fuck off, loud enough for half the place to turn and look.”
He nervously grips the back of his neck. “The next day, I didn’t remember a thing that happened after the club. Totally blacked out. The thing is, I know my limit.” He glances between the two of us again. “I’ve spent a lot of time learning how far I can go before I tip over the edge, and I’d only had a few. I didn’t slip, Arden, I was pushed. And Luke’s fingerprints are all over it.”
Arden doesn’t look surprised. Her expression is focused and cold. Her eyes narrow to slits, burning with a fire hotter and stronger than I’ve ever seen. She doesn’t just look angry; she looks like she just accepted a mission with a personal vendetta attached.
