Page 6 of California Wild

She’d seen the broken parts. The rot. The hunger. The terrified boy underneath who didn’t know how to keep something good even when he wanted it more than anything.

And she’d walked away because of it.

Hell, maybe for it.

And now she was out there somewhere, glowing, thriving, wild and alive under stage lights, and he was leaning against this fucking truck, trying to pretend he didn’t feel like the same addict with different problems.

But this time?

This time, she saw him.

And that half-second—those eyes meeting his in a crowded venue?

That was enough to blow the whole thing open again.

Because Jesse Navarro had spent three years trying to forget her. He’d fought his way back from the wreckage. He was sober. He was steady. He had rebuilt himself from the ground up.

And tonight proved he never stood a chance.

Chapter 2

The next morning, the alarm on Hayley Fox’s phone chirped like a deranged bird, sending her bolting upright with a gasp. 6:30 a.m.

She slapped at the screen until the noise stopped, then flopped back against her pillows with a dramatic groan. She was so tired.

She slowly opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling, the events of the night before slowly trickling back in. The show. The crowd. The music humming through her bones even now.

And then…

A flicker of something. A pair of familiar golden curls in the crowd. A set of amber eyes catching the stage lights.

Her stomach did an annoying little flip.

No.

She was not going to spiral over something she probably imagined.

She sat up, shaking the thought away, and stretched, feeling the good kind of sore that came from throwing herself into a set with everything she had.

Then she swung her legs out of bed and got moving. Because punk rock energy didn’t pay rent, and she had work to do.

Coffee first. Always.

She shuffled into her tiny kitchenette, pushing her waist-length hair into a messy bun while she poured oat milk into her cold brew.

Then she flipped open her laptop, scanning through emails as she leaned against the counter, sipping caffeine like her life depended on it.

A reminder from her songwriting agency—a couple of her tracks were in final negotiations for placement with indie artists.

A notification about her studio session at noon—she was recording vocals for an EDM producer’s track, a paid feature gig that would keep her financially afloat for another couple of weeks.

And a text from one of her vocal coaching clients—she had a session that afternoon with a teenage girl who wanted to audition for a music school.

Hayley smiled at that. She loved teaching.

Honestly, if she weren’t so obsessed with performing, she might have just stuck to coaching full-time. It was steady work, good money, and she actually enjoyed helping people find their voices.

But music was her dream. And dreams required a lot of side gigs and caffeine.

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