Page 184 of Ashley & the A-Listers

She guessed not everyone was asleep after all.

Ashley turned over to face Dylan, tucking her hand under her cheek. Cameron whined softly in his sleep and curled around her, trying his best as the big spoon.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” Dylan answered, just as quietly. In the dim light, his gaze flicked over her face, and her stomach dropped. “I didn’t like not feeling you today,” Dylan said.

Ashley nodded. The emptiness of the bond hadn’t felt… right. “I know. I didn’t like it, either. I felt too distant. Too alone.”

“Don’t do that again, okay?” Dylan asked. “I’m your bond mate.”

“I know, I just didn’t want to dis?—“

“You’re not a distraction, or a burden,” he said, stroking her cheek. When she tried to avert her eyes, he tilted her head back in his direction. “I love you. I’m here for you. Shut me out because you need your space, that I understand. Don’t shut me out because you think it’s better forme. We’re in this together, as a pack.”

Ashley’s throat threatened to go tight all over again, and she swallowed. “Alright. Thank you.”

“I want to be here for you. Like I wasn’t all those years ago,” Dylan said. “I won’t let you down again.”

Ashley reached for him, pulling him close, thanking him with a soft kiss, just a brush of lips. “I’m scared,” she told him, offering a part of herself. She was scared of the future—of what her life would look like with them, without the gym. What if she couldn’t go back?

“I know, but it’ll be okay. We’ve got you,” he said.

Cameron nuzzled into her shoulder. “We’ve got you,” he repeated sleepily, and his arms tightened around her.

Ashley relaxed into them, letting them surround and hold her.

For what felt like the first time that day, she took a deep breath and it was filled with their scents. The childhood nostalgia of Dylan, the sweet treat of Cameron, and the inky smoke of River.

This was her pack.

Maybe she needed to start acting like it.

41. NEW NORMAL

DYLAN

Dylan glanced through the windows and into the apartment from the balcony, confirming that no one would overhear his conversation before he sat down on the wicker outdoor couch.

He pulled up his boss’s contact info, and breathed out a sigh before calling.

“Pike here,” he answered.

“Hey, boss,” Dylan said.

“Dylan, how’s it going?”

“It’s alright. I just wanted to give you an update.”

He’d sent Wes a notice as soon as shit had hit the fan, but a few days had passed since then. A few days of guilt and paranoia gnawing at him.

“How’s the client?”

“He’s… good,” Dylan said.

He heard the protest of a leather chair on the other line. “Are you calling because you need that other guy?”

“If I did, do you have one available?” Dylan asked. It wasn’t that dire yet, but if it came to it, Dylan wouldn’t turn down an extra set of eyes.

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