Chapter 32 #2
My mind drifts back to the walk in the woods earlier.
The quiet, the space, the way everything in me started to line up in a way I couldn’t ignore anymore.
Now, here, with her beneath me, her warmth still lingering against my skin, it settles into something clear.
I’m not just falling for her. I’m already there.
I’m in love with her. The realization doesn’t hit like a shock.
It lands slower, heavier, like something that was already true and just finally spoken out loud inside my own head.
It should feel insane. It probably is. It happened too fast, too easily, like I skipped steps I was supposed to take.
Maybe it’s just infatuation. Maybe I’m fooling myself.
But even as those thoughts surface, they don’t stick.
Because whatever this is, it feels real in a way I can’t argue with.
More than that, I don’t want to. It’s a kind of madness I’d choose every time.
When I came back from the forest and saw her car gone, it felt like something inside me had been torn out and left behind.
Not abstract, not distant—physical. Like something vital had been ripped from my chest and crushed underfoot.
Like an axe to the knee, sudden and brutal, leaving me unable to stand properly in my own skin.
It was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever known, and what made it worse was how quiet it was.
No warning, no buildup, just gone. No goodbye.
No chance to fix it. That’s the part that stuck. That’s the part that hurt the most.
It took me straight back to my grandmother.
We knew she was dying. The disease made sure of that.
But she never acted like it. She never slowed down, even at the end, always moving, always insisting nothing hurt.
She refused to fade. Refused even to take painkillers.
Said she didn’t believe in them. Then one day, I walked back in and found her on the floor.
Just gone. Even as I carried her out, even as I drove, I knew.
There was no catching up to it, no fixing it, no real goodbye.
Her last words to me had been about picking up good bergamot.
That was it. That was all I got. Going home without her that day was the first time I understood what real loneliness felt like.
Sierra leaving hit that same place. That same hollow.
I didn’t give myself time to think about it.
I didn’t let it settle in. I just moved, got in the truck and went after her.
When I saw her again, everything hit at once—anger, relief, something deeper that I couldn’t ignore anymore.
Love. I loved her. I still do. I don’t know how she feels about me yet, not fully.
Luke thinks she cares, and I think he’s right, but caring and loving aren’t always the same thing.
Everything about this is complicated, except for one part.
On my end, it’s simple. I don’t mind sharing her. I just need her to love me too.
Reid finally pulls back, brushing his thumb along her cheek before he gets up.
Luke takes his place without hesitation, leaning in for his own kiss—long, slow, almost indulgent—before straightening again.
Then he pulls on his clothes and heads for the door, already whistling under his breath in that easy, unbothered way of his.
He’s happy. I recognize it immediately, because I feel it too.
Reid steps out to make his call, the door closing behind him, leaving just the two of us in the quiet. I shift, rolling over her slightly, bracing myself on my arms so I can look down at her properly. She smiles up at me. "Hi."
"Hi," I murmur, brushing my lips along her cheek, then down the line of her jaw. She sighs softly under me, her hands coming up to rest against my shoulders. "So you guys do this often, huh?"
"Not often," I say. "And I’ve only ever done it with Luke."
She doesn’t look surprised, just curious. "Reid’s never joined you?"
I shake my head. "Reid doesn’t really have sex with anyone."
That lands harder than I expect. Her eyes widen. "What?"
"Since I’ve known him? Nothing. No hookups. No girlfriends. Nothing."
"But… you’ve known him for at least two years."
I nod, and she blinks rapidly, trying to wrap her head around that. "What about you and Luke?" she asks. "How did that even start?"
I shrug. "A night out."
Luke found out I was still a virgin at twenty-five and decided it was a problem he needed to solve.
We went out, met someone, and she liked both of us.
At first it felt strange, not wrong, just unfamiliar, but once it started, I understood it.
I liked it. Not just the physical side of it, but the reaction—the way a woman would come undone under your hands, your mouth, the way you could push her there.
That’s what stuck. If it was just about my own release, I could’ve handled that myself, but nothing compares to the look, the feel, the taste of a satisfied lover.
Especially Sierra. No one has gotten under my skin the way she has.
"As time went on, it just kept happening," I say. "Luke’s good at reading people. He could tell when I liked someone, even when I didn’t say it. He’d handle the conversation, and if she was interested in both of us, we’d take it further."
"Wow," she says, and there’s no judgment in it, just quiet curiosity.
"He suggested we bring you in earlier," I admit.
Her breath catches. "Really?"
I nod. "I said no."
"Because of Reid’s rule?"
"No." I hold her gaze. "Because I felt too much for you. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it."
She swallows, and I see the impact of that settle in her. "And now?" she asks quietly. "What do you think now?"
Now. The truth sits right there, clear and heavy.
I open my mouth, try to say it, but the words stall, too big, too real.
I’ve never said anything like this out loud before, not where it mattered.
Instead, I lean down and kiss her, deep and slow, letting it say what I can’t.
My nose throbs where Luke had hit it earlier, but I ignore it.
None of it matters. She tastes warm, soft, already familiar.
My body melts into hers, heat building again, rising fast. She moans into my mouth, and I shift against her until there’s no space left between us.
I want her again. Not just once. Not just tonight.
I want all of her, over and over, until there’s nothing left of me that isn’t tied to her. Only her.