11. Reed
reed
. . .
Maverick’s driving like an absolute asshole.
My hand grips the overhead handle as his Bronco fishtails around a corner, the olive jar rattling in the cupholder.
“Slow the hell down,” I growl, bracing my boot against the floorboard.
“I can’t slow down! My wife is in labor, you fuck! Do you want me to miss the birth of my first child?!” He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel, blonde hair falling into his eyes, chest heaving. “Oh my god, what if I do miss it? What if the baby comes in the hallway? What if—”
“Mav,” I cut in, firm. “She’s fine. Carter and Catalina are with her. Just drive.”
That seems to get through, if only just barely. He eases off the gas — though “eases” for Maverick still means ten over the limit.
His Bronco rattles with his muttering, half-prayers, half-panicked jokes about diapers and baby monitors, until the glow of hospital lights washes over the windshield.
He jerks his SUV into the drop-off lane, slamming it into park before I’ve even unclipped my belt. “Come on, come on, come on,” he chants, vaulting out of the driver’s side.
I follow, calmer, steadier, my boots heavy on the pavement as we push through the sliding doors.
Maverick rushes straight to the nurses’ station, voice loud and commanding. “WHERE’S MY WIFE? Amelia Hayes, she’s in labor, I’m her husband, you gotta take me up right now!”
The nurse barely flinches. She blinks up at him, deadpan. “Sir, if you could just—”
“No, you don’t understand, I have to be there. She’ll murder me if I’m not. Do you want my wife to murder me?”
“Sir—”
“She’s five-foot-two, but she’s terrifying! She already screamed at me about olives—”
“Sir.” The nurse’s voice sharpens, clipped with authority. “Take a breath.”
Maverick wheezes, slamming his palm on the counter.
I step up beside him, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. “He’s the husband,” I say quietly. “He just needs someone to walk him through.”
That finally softens the nurse’s face. She makes a quick call, murmurs something into the phone, and within minutes, a staff member appears to lead him back.
Maverick’s gone in a flash, throwing me one last wild-eyed look before disappearing down the hall.
And then it’s quiet again.
I head toward the waiting area, my boots echoing on the tile. The harsh fluorescent lights make everything seem too bright and too loud in its silence.
Carter and Catalina are already in the lobby; she’s perched on the edge of a plastic chair, fingers knotted together, while he stands behind her with one hand resting firmly on her shoulder.
Carter glances up as I approach, his blue eyes steady even in the wash of fluorescent light. “He make it in?”
I nod, lowering into the chair beside Catalina. “They took him back.”
She exhales, a shaky little laugh slipping out. “Good. Amelia’s gonna kill him, but… good.”
I lean back in the chair as the hum of the vending machines fills the space, and for the first time since the night began, I let myself breathe.
The plastic chair groans beneath my weight as I settle back, the sterile hum of fluorescent lights filling the quiet. Carter leans against the wall, arms crossed, his hand still resting on Catalina’s shoulder.
She’s perched on the edge of her seat, knees bouncing, biting the inside of her cheek.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance down, and her name lights the screen.
Layla
So… is it too early to request snacks? Like, do you even have In-N-Out, or am I doomed?
A low chuckle escapes me, quiet enough that Catalina shoots me a curious look. I clear my throat, typing back.
Reed
Yes to In-N-Out, but the lines are hours long
Three dots dance.
Layla
Ughhh. This is a crisis. Do you deliver snacks to baggage claim? Asking for myself
My lips twitch.
Reed
I’ll deliver you. Snacks optional.
She fires back almost instantly.
Layla
Smooth, Hayes. Careful, I might start believing you’re sweet.
I shift in my seat, the corner of my mouth lifting. My thumb hesitates over the keys before I type.
Reed
Maybe I am. Just don’t tell anyone.
Her reply makes me huff, laugh out loud.
Layla
Too late. I’m tweeting “Reed Hayes is secretly soft.”
Carter cuts me a side-eye at the sound. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, tucking the phone low, warmth buzzing in my chest.
Another buzz.
Layla
Seriously, though, thanks for texting me back. I needed it tonight.
My throat tightens. I stare at the words for a long moment before answering.
Reed
Me too.
Before I can pocket the phone, a nurse pushes through the double doors. “Family for Amelia Hayes?”
Catalina jumps to her feet, Carter straightening up beside her. I also stand, my phone still warm in my hand, her name glowing on the screen.
The nurse only says Amelia’s stable, and they’ll update again soon. Catalina wipes at her eyes, Carter leans closer to her, giving her a soft peck, and I sink back into the chair, my phone still heavy in my hand.
It buzzes again.
Layla
Do Tennessee boys actually ride horses everywhere, or is that just in movies?
I huff a quiet laugh, thumbs moving slowly.
Reed
We have trucks. Horses are optional.
Her reply comes fast.
Layla
Damn. I was picturing you on horseback, cowboy hat, riding in to rescue me at baggage claim.
My lips twitch.
Reed
Don’t tempt me. I’ve got the hat.
Three dots appear, then vanish, then appear again.
Layla
Pics or it didn’t happen.
I shake my head, chuckling under my breath.
Reed
You’ll see soon enough.
She responds with a string of emojis—cowboy hats, hearts, a little horse—and then sends another message.
Layla
You know, for someone who claims he’s not sweet, you’re really good at making me smile.
My thumbs hesitate, then I type.
Reed
Guess that makes two of us.
I pocket my phone, feeling the warmth settle deep, when the waiting room doors slam open.
Ten hours pass by in a motionless blur; we have been sitting here waiting for the birth of a new family member.
I twiddle my thumbs, staring at Carter and Catalina. Carter is massaging her shoulders, whispering things into her ear, and Catalina smiles. They’ve been together for four years, and I’ve never seen my brother smile like that with anyone.
My spiral quickens, but it quickly dies when the waiting room doors crash open.
Maverick storms in like a freight train. His face is streaked with tears, his shirt half untucked, and his hair sticking out every which way. He’s still clutching that damn jar of olives.
“I’M A DAD!” His voice cracks, echoing through the sterile room. “Holy shit, I’m a dad!”
Catalina jumps to her feet, covering her mouth with both hands as tears start to flow. Carter wraps a firm arm around her waist, holding her steady as she trembles with emotion.
Maverick’s pacing, laughing, and crying at the same time.
“They’re both fine. Amelia’s… Jesus Christ, she’s unbelievable.
She swore at me the whole time, threatened to break my hand, and then she held him—” his voice fractures, his chest heaving, “—and I swear I’ve never seen anything more fucking perfect. ”
He drags a hand down his wet face, grinning through the mess. “His name’s Leo Maddox Hayes.”
Catalina breaks into new sobs as Carter kisses the top of her head. My chest tightens, pride swelling in a way I don’t bother trying to hide.
Maverick laughs again, shaking his head as if he can’t believe it. “He’s so damn small. Got Amelia’s nose, my ridiculous lungs. And he already looks at me like I don’t know what I’m doing. He’s right.”
I shake my head with a smile, despite myself. That’s Maverick—loud, chaotic, and full of heart.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Layla
Did Amelia really have the baby?? Catalina is blowing me up, but you know how she exaggerates.
A warmth spreads through me, cutting through the antiseptic hum of the hospital. My thumbs move slowly.
Reed
Yeah. Baby boy. Leo Maddox Hayes. Both doing perfect.
Her reply comes fast.
Layla
Leo!! Oh my god, I’m crying in my apartment like an idiot. Tell Amelia I love her. And that baby better know I’m already his favorite aunt.
A quiet laugh escapes me. I tuck my phone back into my pocket, feeling lighter than I have in years, and look at my brother—loud, messy, crying with joy.
Work, sleep, repeat.
That’s been my routine. But tonight? It’s different. Tonight, it’s about family. And thinking of Layla, miles away, crying happy tears into her phone, makes me think, I want more.