Page 145 of California Wild

Didn’t look at her.

Just dropped onto the bench by the door and tied his shoes.

The silence ached.

Hayley sank slowly into the couch, her hands pressed flat against her knees, her throat burning.

He opened the door. The screen creaked.

“I’ll be back later,” he said.

And then he was gone.

Chapter 21

The house was dark when Jesse got back. Just quiet and hollow, like it was waiting to be a home again. He toed off his sneakers by the door, his breath still coming hard from the run—longer than usual, farther than he’d meant to go.

His legs were shot. His ribs ached. But it was better than thinking.

The living room was empty. Of course it was.

No Hayley.

No music.

No soft humming from the couch, no thrown blanket or tea mug left out.

Just silence.

He wandered into the kitchen, ripped open the fridge, and pulled out half a rotisserie chicken. Ate it cold, standing in front of the open door, gnawing at a drumstick like a caveman. Then he grabbed a leftover pickle, a string cheese, and a protein bar. Dinner of champions.

He’d barely chewed the last bite when the doorbell rang.

He frowned.

Nobody rang his doorbell.

Jesse marched to the door, flipped the lock, and pulled it open—

“Sup, bro,” said Isaac Rayleigh, standing there like a damn GQ ad in black jeans and a vintage leather jacket. His hair was messily perfect, sunglasses still on even though the sun had been down for a while. “Nice socks.”

Jesse glanced down. Mismatched.

“Isaac,” he said, blinking. “The fuck are you doing here?”

Isaac smirked. “Guess who’s playing tonight?”

Jesse sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah. I know.”

Isaac leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You going?”

“Pretty sure her band hates me.”

Isaac arched a brow. “The band, or the Irish guy?”

Jesse didn’t answer.

Isaac tilted his head. “Ohhh. Right. Him.”

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