Chapter 32
thirty-two
RYAN
I can’t sleep.
It’s been three hours since the power came back on, two since Elena finally called it a night and sent everyone to their rooms, and one since I heard the last giggling conversation die down in the hallway. The house is finally quiet, but my brain won’t shut up.
Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that storage closet with Wren pressed against the shelves, her breath hitching when I touched her. The way she looked at me when I said this wasn’t over. Like she wanted to believe me but was too scared to try.
What if I made it worse? What if she regrets it already? What if Jay finds out and I have to explain why I’ve been in love with his sister since before he even realized she was hot?
We’ve crossed too many lines. There’s no walking this back. Not when every glance feels like a question neither of us wants to answer.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. The emergency lighting left weird shadows that are still burned into my retinas. Or maybe that’s just the image of Wren’s face in the glow of her phone, her lips parted and eyes wide with want.
This is insane. I’m lying here like some lovesick teenager, replaying every second of a ten-minute conversation in a closet. But I can’t help it. She finally admitted she’s falling for me. Instead of making things easier, it’s made everything a thousand times more complicated.
Because now I know she feels it, too. This pull between us that’s been driving me crazy for weeks. It’s not just me imagining things or projecting my own feelings onto her. She’s scared, yeah, but she wants this as much as I do.
That terrifies me.
I sit up and scrub my hands over my face. My room feels too small, too hot, too quiet. I need to move, do something other than lie here obsessing over every word she said, every touch we shared.
I sit on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, staring at the same text for five minutes before finally sending it.
I think I’m catching feelings for someone.
Ellie doesn’t even hesitate.
Oh, so we’re being sneaky now? Duh. You have feelings for Wren.
I run a hand through my hair and reply.
Yes. She makes me insane.
Yeah, but she also makes you shut up and listen. That’s rare for you.
She makes me want to be a better version of myself. Even when I don’t know how.
Then maybe you’re finally in the right story.
Maybe. What are you doing up so late, early bird?
I’m hanging out with a sick dog at the clinic. It’s touch and go. Speaking of… I should get back to her. But good luck with your Wren situation.
Thanks.
My mind wanders back to Wren. I grab my phone and check the time.
It’s almost 3 a.m. Everyone should be asleep by now.
The cameras in the common areas shut down at midnight according to the production schedule I memorized week one.
If I’m careful, I could probably sneak down to the kitchen for some water without anyone noticing.
I pull on a T-shirt and ease my door open. The hallway is dark except for the dim emergency lighting they left on after the power incident. I can hear someone snoring through one of the doors. Probably JacqLyn. That girl could wake the dead.
I pad barefoot down the hall, avoiding the spots where the floor creaks. Years of sneaking around my aunt’s house as a teenager taught me how to move silently. Some skills you never lose.
The kitchen is empty and peaceful. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and lean against the counter, letting the cool air wash over my face. The silence is a relief after the chaos of earlier.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. My head jerks toward the hallway, expecting someone to catch us.
Nothing. Just my pulse pounding in my ears.
Wren is sitting at the breakfast bar in the dark corner of the kitchen, curled up in an oversized hoodie with her knees pulled to her chest. I didn’t even see her when I walked in.
“Jesus, Chirp. You scared the hell out of me.”
She smiles, and even in the dim light I can see it reach her eyes. “Sorry. I’ve been sitting here for like an hour. Figured you’d show up eventually.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re predictable. When you can’t sleep, you eat. When you’re stressed, you eat. When you’re thinking too hard, you eat.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I came down for water.”
“Uh-huh. Check the pantry. I bet you were planning to grab some of those granola bars you’ve been hoarding.”
Damn. She’s not wrong. I was absolutely going to grab a granola bar after the water. Maybe two.
“How do you know about my granola bars?”
“I pay attention.”
The simple statement hits harder than it should. She pays attention. To me. To my habits and patterns and the stupid little things I do when I think no one’s watching.
I twist the cap off my water and take a long drink, using the time to study her face. She looks tired but alert, like her mind is running in circles just like mine.
“So what’s keeping you up?” I ask.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
She unfolds herself from the bar stool and walks over to me, stopping just close enough that I can smell her shampoo. Some kind of vanilla and honey scent that always makes me want to bury my face in her hair.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said.”
“Which part?”
“That you’re already in too deep.” She looks up at me. There’s something vulnerable in her expression that makes my chest tight. “Did you mean it?”
The question hangs between us like a live wire. I could deflect, make a joke, turn this into something lighter. But she’s looking at me like my answer matters more than anything else in the world.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I meant it.”
She nods, like she was expecting that answer but needed to hear it anyway. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Afraid?”
“Because I’m in too deep, too, Ryan. Completely, stupidly deep. I have no idea what to do about it.”
The confession hits me like a slap shot to the chest. All the air leaves my lungs at once. She’s gone. She said it. Out loud, with no cameras rolling and no producers listening and no one to perform for except me.
“Wren…”
“I know it’s crazy. I know there are a million reasons this won’t work. But I can’t pretend anymore that this is just physical or just for the show or just anything other than what it is.”
“And what is it?”
She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I’m just saying I think about you all the time, and everything feels heavier when you’re not around, and…”
She trails off, flushing.
Her words slice right through every defense I’ve ever built. I set my water bottle down on the counter with hands that aren’t quite steady.
“You’re terrifying, Wren. I’m scared shitless of what you could do if you wanted to hurt me.”
Her eyes probe my face. When she speaks, her voice is a whisper. “I would never do that.”
I scrunch my face up. “Maybe not on purpose. But you have me wrapped around your finger, sweetheart.”
I reach for her before I can think better of it, pulling her against my chest. She comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her face into my shoulder.
“So we are agreed. This whole situation is insane.”
“It’s not insane,” I murmur into her hair.
“It’s not?”
“Well, it is. But not for the reasons you think.”
She pulls back to look at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve been half in love with you since college, Chirp.
Watching you grow up, seeing you become this incredible woman, trying to convince myself you were off-limits because you’re Jay’s sister.
The insane part isn’t that we’re having feelings for each other.
The insane part is that it took us this long to do something about it. ”
Her eyes widen. “Since college?”
“You remember that night freshman year when you came to visit Jay and we all went to that party at Delta Chi?”
“Vaguely. I was pretty drunk.”
“You were wearing this blue dress and you kept laughing at everything Jay said, trying to fit in with us. I spent the whole night watching you and thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because you were barely eighteen and I was almost twenty-six. And because Jay would have murdered me in my fucking sleep.”
She’s quiet for a moment, processing this. “So all this time…?”
“All this time.”
“But you dated other people. A lot of other people.”
I shrug. “None of them were you.”
The simple truth of it sits between us. All those years of me convincing myself I was protecting her, protecting Jay, protecting myself. All those hookups and short relationships that never meant anything because I was always comparing them to a girl I couldn’t have.
“I was so stupid,” she whispers.
“You were a kid.”
“No, I mean now. This week. Pulling away from you after the hotel, trying to pretend it didn’t mean anything. I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of this.” She gestures between us. “Of wanting something I couldn’t have. Of getting my heart broken when you realized I’m not worth the complications.”
I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me.
“Hey. Listen to me. You think you’re not worth the risk?
Wren, I’ve built my whole life around the wrong things because I didn’t think I could have you.
You are worth every complication, every risk, every consequence that comes with this. You understand me?”
Tears pool in her eyes and she nods.
“I don’t care about Jay’s reaction or the cameras or Elena or any of it. I care about you.”
“Jay’s going to lose his mind.”
“Probably.”
“The show is going to milk this for everything it’s worth.”
“Definitely.”
“We could both end up getting hurt.”
“Maybe.” I brush my thumbs across her cheekbones. “But I’d rather get hurt loving you than spend the rest of my life wondering what if.”
She makes a sound that’s half laugh, half sob. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me want to do stupid things.”
“Like what?”
She rises up on her toes and kisses me, soft and sweet and full of promise. It’s different from the desperate kiss in the storage closet. This one feels like a decision. Like a beginning.
When she pulls away, she’s smiling. “Like that.”
“That wasn’t stupid.”
“It was if someone sees us.”
I glance around the empty kitchen. We’re standing in the shadows by the refrigerator, mostly hidden from view even if someone did walk in. But she’s right. We’re taking a huge risk.
“We should probably go back to our rooms,” I say, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.
“Probably.”
But neither of us moves. We just stand there, holding each other in the dim light of the kitchen, pretending like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
“Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“When this is all over, when the show wraps and the cameras go away… what happens then?”
It’s the question I’ve been avoiding, the one that keeps me awake at night. Because the truth is, I don’t know. My life is hockey and travel and a schedule that doesn’t leave room for much else. Wren deserves better than someone who’s gone half the year.
But looking at her now, seeing the hope and fear warring in her expression, I know I have to try. We have to try.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I want to find out.”
She nods, like that’s enough for now. Maybe it is. Maybe we don’t need to have all the answers tonight.
“I should go,” she whispers.
“I know.”
She starts to pull away but I catch her hand, threading our fingers together.
“Wren?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you couldn’t sleep.”
She smiles, the real one that makes her whole face light up. “Me too.”
I watch her walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. When I can’t see her anymore, I lean back against the counter and close my eyes.
Jay’s going to kill me. Elena’s going to spin this into a ratings monster. And I’d do it all again just to hear her say my name like that.
I’m in love with Jay’s little sister.
Somehow, miraculously, she might be in love with me, too. I can’t say it to her. Not yet. I don’t want to scare her off. But the truth is still wrapped around my heart, gripping it impossibly tight.
We’re completely screwed.
But for the first time in years, I don’t care. I just need her to keep looking at me like that.