Chapter 35
35
REIGN
Hypnotized - TJ Minor
Who knew a bunch of fabric and some spotlights could bring this much energy? I think, smirking to myself as I glance around the buzzing venue. Not exactly my scene—hell, it’s none of our scene—but tonight’s not about me. It’s about Bexley. And Lena.
The Speed Demons stick out like a sore thumb in this sea of suits, cocktail dresses, and influencers waving their phones around like they’re auditioning for a reality show. But we’re here anyway, parked along the back wall like we own the place. Revel and Thorne are at the bar, beers in hand, ripping on the crowd with that dry, sarcastic bullshit they think is funny—and okay, it kind of is. Talon and Sayshen are near the stage, loudly debating whether the runway looks like it could handle a quarter-mile drag race.
I’m pretty sure this crowd has no idea what to do with us. Leather jackets, boots, jeans that are definitely more grease-stained than trendy. Shit, it’s like oil meeting water in here.
But I’m not here to blend in.
I’m here for Lena.
I haven’t seen her yet, but I know she’s back there somewhere, probably bossing everyone around and making sure this thing doesn’t crash and burn. That’s just Lena. Stubborn, sharp as hell, and in control of anything that dares to cross her path. She wouldn’t steal the spotlight from Bex—she’s got more class than that—but if something’s off, I’d bet good money she’s already fixing it. Probably with a side of sarcasm for whoever’s slowing her down.
The lights dim further, and the low hum of conversation fades as a voice comes over the speakers, announcing the start of the show. The crowd leans forward, cameras at the ready, anticipation thick in the air. The music swells, something deep and rhythmic, and then the models start striding down the runway, one by one, showcasing Bexley’s designs.
I’ll admit, I don’t know a damn thing about fashion, but even I can tell Bexley’s work is something else. The outfits are sharp, edgy, and bold as hell. Pure Bex. The kind of stuff that makes people sit up and pay attention. The crowd’s eating it up, murmuring and snapping pictures like their lives depend on it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, cutting through the music and murmurs of the crowd. I pull it out and see a text from my mom.
Mom: Ματ?κια μου, how are things? Are you at the show? Can you send me photos of the girls in their outfits when it’s over? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I wasn’t feeling well this morning and didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick. Let me know how it goes. Love you.
I smirk at the screen, shaking my head. My mom’s never been the type to let anything stop her, but as much as I hate the thought of her feeling off, I’m glad she decided to take care of herself for once. She’s all sharp edges wrapped in soft warmth, and even when she’s trying to rest, she’s still checking in on everyone else.
Typical.
She’d have loved this show and seeing Bexley’s work. I know how excited she was to see Lena and Cece light up the runway too. I can already hear her voice, teasing me about missing a photo op and telling me how proud she is of the team, like she’s part of it too.
I send back a quick reply.
Reign: Love you too, μ?να. I’ll grab photos for you after the show. Rest up, okay? The place is packed and everything looks amazing—you would’ve been proud.
Sliding the phone back into my pocket, I glance at the stage again, a small smile tugging at my lips. No matter how chaotic things get, she’s always the grounding force.
Always there, even when she’s not.
“That one’s solid,” Talon mutters, nodding toward a model in a fitted leather jacket with ripped jeans and boots. “Looks like something Lena would wear.”
I glance at him, my jaw tightening a little. “Yeah,” I say, my voice low, my eyes flicking back to the stage.
The next model steps out, and the whole damn room seems to freeze.
It’s Lena.
My chest tightens, and everything else disappears, like the world just narrowed to her and her alone. She’s in a sleek black bikini, the kind that hugs her body like it was made just for her. The top dips low enough to make my throat go dry, and the cut of the bottoms shows off the perfect curve of her ass. The way the spotlights catch her skin, making her look like she’s glowing? It’s almost too much. She walks like she owns the damn stage, every step confident, commanding, and unapologetically her.
And fuck me, she’s mine . That’s my fucking girl up there, looking like she could ruin every person in the room without even trying.
“Damn,” Revel mutters, low enough to almost be respectful, but there’s a teasing edge in his tone that makes me glance his way. He raises a brow, smirking. “Didn’t know Lena had that in her.”
“Shut up,” I mutter, though my tone’s too distracted to sound threatening. My eyes flash back to her, taking in every second like I’m afraid I’ll miss something.
At the end of the runway, her gaze sweeps over the crowd, and for a split second, our eyes lock. Something flickers in her expression—recognition, relief, maybe even a hint of something softer. Before I can blink, she turns on her heel and struts back down the runway, leaving me standing there like an idiot with my heart racing like I’m the one under the spotlight.
I don’t even have time to process my thoughts before the next model steps out.
“Holy shit, it’s Cece,” Talon says, his voice way too loud as he points toward the stage.
Cece’s wearing a bright red bikini, cut high on the hips and tied with little strings on the sides. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, her hips swaying as she walks. If Lena was a storm on stage, Cece’s all fire, every step demanding attention and soaking up the cheers from the crowd.
“Cece, baby!” Revel hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth like he’s at a sports game. “Looking good up there, mami !”
“Revel, sit the fuck down,” Sayshen mutters, though he’s grinning, clearly enjoying the show.
Revel just smirks, shrugging as he raises his beer. “What? I’m just appreciating the talent. Can’t blame me for noticing perfection, and Cece, in that bikini, fucking golden.”
Talon leans closer to Wolfe, muttering loud enough for everyone to hear. “Think he’s gonna need a cold shower after this.”
“More like an ice bath,” Wolfe replies, smirking.
The banter barely registers because my focus is still on Lena. The rest of the show passes in a blur—models coming and going, the music changing, the crowd cheering at all the right moments—but my head’s stuck on her. How she looked up there. How she owned the room like it was hers.
By the time the last model steps out, followed by Bexley, the room erupts into applause. The Demons cheer louder than anyone, whistling and hollering like lunatics. Bexley grins like she’s just conquered the world, her hands waving at the crowd as she takes her bow.
The lights come up, and people start moving around, snapping pictures and patting each other on the back. I push through the crowd, heading for the backstage entrance. The bouquet of flowers in my hand feels ridiculous. Is it too much, too soft? Maybe, but I don’t care. I need to see her.
When I finally find her, she’s standing by a rack of clothes, her back to me. The bikini’s gone, and she’s back in her usual jeans and a tank top, her hair loose around her shoulders. She’s talking to Bexley, gesturing with her hands in that animated way she gets when she’s excited.
Then she stops mid-sentence, her body going still before she turns to face me.
For a second, it’s just us. Her staring at me. Me staring at her. And all I can think is how that girl—the one who owned the runway like it was her throne—is mine .
“Reign? What are you doing back here?” Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, and it sends a pang through my chest.
I step closer, holding out the flowers. “For you.”
She blinks, surprised, before taking them. “Thanks,” she says, her fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment. “You didn’t have to?—”
“I wanted to.” My voice is rougher than I intended, but I push on. “There’s... something else, too.”
Her brows knit together in confusion as I reach into my jacket and pull out the mug. It’s not perfect. The cracks are still visible, thin lines of glue tracing its surface—but it’s whole. And it’s hers.
Her breath catches, her eyes going wide. “You... you fixed it?”
I nod, my throat tightening as I try to find the right words. “The morning we found your place trashed, I saw it. The pieces were in that box on the counter. I... I don’t know, I just couldn’t leave it there. So I tucked it into my bag.”
Her hands tremble as she reaches for the mug, cradling it like it’s something precious. “Reign, I?—”
“I know it’s not the same,” I cut in, my voice rough, “and you won’t be able to drink out of it anymore, but... I figured you’d want to have it back. Even if it’s just to keep.”
She stares down at it, her fingers tracing the cracks gently, like she’s afraid it might fall apart again. “You didn’t have to do this,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
“I know,” I reply, my tone softer now. “But I wanted to. I know how much it meant to you.”
Her eyes lift to meet mine, and for a moment, she just looks at me, her expression a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something I can’t quite name. “It’s perfect,” she says finally, her voice breaking.
And in that moment, seeing her hold the mug like it’s the most important thing in the world, I know I made the right call.
Her eyes fill with tears, and for a moment, I think she’s going to say something, but then Bexley calls her name, breaking the spell.
“We’re celebrating at the beach house,” Bexley announces, grinning as she strides over. “Burgers, beers, the usual. You’re coming, right?”
Lena hesitates, glancing at me, and I nod. “We’ll be there.”
As we leave the venue, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s shifted between us. Something important. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like we’re moving toward something instead of running from it.
Talon & Sayshen’s beach house buzzes with life, the smell of grilling meat mixing with the salty tang of the ocean. The speakers spread out around the deck pumping music so loud the people gathered down on the beach can probably feel the base thrumming through them. Cece pulls Bex by the wrist into the makeshift dance floor they’ve claimed near the firepit in the center of the large deck.
“ ?Vámonos, chica ! This is your night!” Cece’s hips sway perfectly to the rhythm, her energy demanding attention.
Bex laughs, stumbling slightly as she tries to follow Cece’s fluid movements. “Bitch, I’m a designer, not a dancer!”
“Bullshit! I know you can work those hips, puta ! Don’t even try to lie to me,” Cece retorts, spinning her around.
The team erupts into laughter. Talon, standing nearby with a drink in hand, is Cece’s next victim.
“C’mon, big guy,” she says, grabbing his arm. “Don’t be shy, Talon. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Talon groans, dragging his feet but ultimately giving in. His moves are stiff at first, awkwardly timed to the beat, but Cece’s relentless encouragement with a bit of help from Bex breaks him down. Eventually, he loosens up, and decides to attempt a spin with Bexley that nearly takes out the table of food the girls spent hours setting up.
“You call that dancing, mate?” Thorne shouts, already halfway through his own dramatic moves. He’s got his beer in one hand, the other snapping theatrically to the beat as he twirls around like he’s a member of one of the goddamn boy bands he loves so much. “That’s how it’s done!”
“Easy there, Fred Astaire!” Wolfe teases, his grin wide as he leans against his bike. “Looks like we have a proper fucking twinkle toes over there.”
“You’re just jealous,” Thorne shoots back, giving Wolfe a mock bow. “Not everyone can pull off moves this smooth, mate.”
“Jealous? Nah,” Wolfe replies, raising his drink. “I’m just admiring the view.”
The group bursts out laughing, Revel nearly choking on his beer. “Wolfe, you’re fucking shameless,” he says, shaking his head.
“Someone’s gotta keep shit interesting,” Wolfe says with a wink. “Besides, we all know he likes it, he just doesn’t want to admit it yet.”
The warmth of their laughter settles over the beach like a blanket, softening the edges of everything. I can’t help but glance down toward the shore, where Lena sits alone, the waves lapping at her toes.
I leave the chaos behind, stepping through the warm sand until I’m standing a few feet from her. Her head is tilted toward the ocean, her fingers sifting through the grains of sand by her side. She looks peaceful, but there’s a quiet weight in her posture that pulls at me.
“Hey,” I say, my voice low enough not to startle her.
She glances up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Hey.”
I sit down behind her, enclosing her between my legs. The water is cool as it washes over my feet, grounding me in the moment. “You okay?”
She nods, her gaze returning to the horizon. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”
We sit in silence for a beat, the waves filling the gaps between us. I don’t push her to talk. I know better. Lena speaks when she’s ready, not when she’s pressed.
After a moment, she turns to me, her eyes soft but a little hesitant. “Do you ever think about where all of this is headed?”
I pause, glancing at the waves before looking back at her. “What, like the big picture? Or just the mess we’re in right now?”
She shrugs, dragging her fingers through the sand. “I don’t know. Both, maybe.”
I let out a low breath, leaning back on my hands. “Yeah, I think about it. More than I probably should. But I’ve learned not to get stuck on what’s next. It’s always changing anyway.”
Her lips twitch, almost like a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“It’s the only way,” I reply, my tone lighter now. “Because if you’re always chasing what’s next, you miss what’s right in front of you.”
She looks at me then, her brows knitting like she’s trying to figure me out. “And what’s right in front of you?”
I hold her gaze, my chest tightening. “You.”
Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, biting her lip. The sight stirs something deep in me, but I don’t push it. Instead, I let the silence settle, the sound of the waves filling the space between us.
“You fit here, you know,” I say after a moment, my voice softer.
She glances at me, confused. “What do you mean?”
“With us. With me. It’s like you were always supposed to be here,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal, even though the words feel heavier than they sound. “Like despite everything we’ve both been through, somehow through it all, we still ended up exactly where we were always meant to be.”
Her expression softens, something unspoken passing between us as she looks at me. For a moment, it feels like the rest of the world falls away, leaving just the two of us and the steady rhythm of the ocean.
Her eyes glisten as she looks at me, and before I can say another word, she shifts, climbing onto my lap. Her arms loop around my neck, her lips finding mine in a kiss that’s slow and teasing, deliberate in the way it unravels me.
“Lena…” I murmur, my voice rough as my lips brush against hers. My hands slide down to her waist, gripping her firmly as she shifts, her body rolling against mine in a way that has my thoughts scattering.
“What?” she whispers, her breath warm and teasing against my skin. Her lips curl into a knowing grin, the kind that drives me out of my damn mind. “Is something wrong, Reign?” Her tone is light, playful, but there’s a challenge in her eyes.
I let out a low, strained chuckle, shaking my head as I tighten my hold on her. “Yeah, something’s wrong,” I say, my voice dropping lower, laced with heat. “You’re driving me out of my fucking mind. That’s what’s wrong.”
Her laugh is soft, sultry, and completely unbothered, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. She presses her forehead to mine, her movements slower now, more deliberate as she grinds against the length of me. “Insanity, huh?” she murmurs, her voice thick with amusement. “Doesn’t feel like insanity to me.”
Her hips press deeper, dragging against my hardened cock in a way that has me biting back a groan. My hands tighten on her waist, desperate for control that’s slipping away fast.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” I growl, my lips brushing her ear as she moves.
Her grin widens, her breath hitching just slightly as she rocks against me again. “No,” she whispers, her tone daring. “I think I’m winning.”
The sound of Cece’s voice carries down from the deck of the beach house, loud enough to echo over the waves. “ ?Oye ! Quit making out, you two! We’re heading down to the docks—get your asses down here and hit the water with us!”
Lena groans, leaning her forehead against my shoulder for a brief moment before pulling back. “She really has no concept of privacy, does she?”
I chuckle, my hand brushing against hers as we start walking. “Cece? None. She’s like a human megaphone with zero boundaries.”
“Maybe we should stay up here just to spite her,” Lena says, a teasing edge in her voice.
I smirk, tilting my head toward the docks. “Yeah, and risk her stomping up here to drag us down there? I’d rather not see what kind of speech she’s got loaded and ready to go.”
Lena laughs, the sound soft and easy, and it tugs at something deep in my chest. “Fine,” she says, shaking her head. “Let’s not give her the satisfaction.”
The two of us make our way down the sandy path toward the docks, the faint sounds of laughter and music drifting on the breeze from the house. Her hand brushes mine, and for a second, I think about taking it, about closing that tiny gap between us, but instead, I just glance at her.
She catches me looking and quirks a brow. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say with a shrug, my lips tugging into a slow grin. “Just thinking how good you look when you’re trying not to smile.”
She rolls her eyes, but the way her lips curve, betraying the smallest, softest smile, hits me like a punch to the chest. “You’re impossible,” she says, her voice laced with mock exasperation.
“And yet, here you are,” I fire back, my tone light, but inside, I’m floored.
I can’t believe she’s really here, walking next to me, letting me in the way she does. There’s still a part of me that thinks I don’t deserve it—that I’ll wake up and this will all be gone. But she’s here, looking at me like I’m more than just the mess I’ve been trying to piece together.
As we step onto the dock, the late afternoon sun stretches out across the water, painting everything in warm golds and oranges. The jet skis bob gently on the waves, and the distant sound of the team’s laughter carries on the breeze. But none of it matters. Not the view, not the noise, not the perfect glow of the moment.
It’s her. It’s always her.
She glances at me, catching me staring, and raises a brow. “What now?”
“Just trying to figure out how I got this lucky,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Her expression softens for a split second before she huffs, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap,” she says, but there’s no bite to it, only warmth.
“Yeah, maybe, but I’m your sap,” I murmur, my voice quiet but firm.
Her steps falter for just a moment, her cheeks tinging pink, but she recovers quickly, throwing me a grin that’s pure trouble. “Careful, Matthews. You keep talking like that, and I might actually believe you.”
“You should,” I say, smirking as I lean closer. “Because it’s true.”
She lets out a soft laugh, turning toward the water. “Come on, lover boy. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”
But as we walk down the dock, I can’t help but think that for once, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
With her.
Always with her.