Chapter 6 Wren
WREN
It was later in the evening, and I was still wearing my pajamas from last night.
I guess I just didn’t have the energy to pull myself together.
My wavy auburn hair was twisted into a messy bun, loose strands falling around my face.
Dark circles sat under my hazel eyes, the result of too little sleep.
Or maybe I was at the age where I needed under-eye cream?
Honestly, I was grateful Lena stopped by when she did. It was nice to spend practically the whole day with her. If she hadn’t come, I probably wouldn’t have eaten at all today. Sometimes, when my mind gets too loud, I forget my body still has needs.
Lena had left about an hour ago with a hug that lasted a little too long for my liking and a look I couldn’t quite meet.
The quiet had settled back over our small house like a familiar blanket.
Until the knock at the door.
Cam didn’t even pause his game.
“Can you get that?”
I dragged myself off the couch, set my unopened sketchbook on the oak coffee table, and opened the door.
And there he was. Again.
Reed.
Wearing a black hoodie, sleeves shoved up just enough to expose a new tattoo on his forearm. A raven. It looked half-drawn or half-finished. Almost like it was still in motion. It suited him. It was precise but not perfect.
His dark brown hair was slightly messy—like he’d showered but hadn’t cared enough to style it. His emerald green eyes met my hazel eyes, and it was like my lungs forgot how to work.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice low and even.
I nodded, stepping aside.
“Cam’s in the living room.”
He walked past me, and I felt it again. That buzz just beneath the skin, like something between us had cracked open, and neither of us knew what to do with it.
I didn’t follow him right away. I leaned against the door frame, watching him move through the house like he’d been here a hundred times. Well, technically, he had. But now it felt… different.
“Hey, man,” Cam said, tossing the controller down and giving him his attention. “Took you long enough.”
“Had to stop by the shop first,” Reed replied, pointing to his tattoo.
They started talking about a car Cam was thinking about buying or fixing up. I stood in the foyer, staring into the living room, trying to decide if I should stay or disappear.
Then Reed’s eyes flicked to mine across the room. Barely a second. I looked away first.
The room suddenly felt too small. It felt like a bad idea to go make myself comfortable in my living room. I slipped into the kitchen with no real intention. I just needed space. Breathing room.
I leaned against the counter facing the window, fingers curled around the edge like it might steady me. The moment from last night wouldn’t stop replaying in my head. The drive and the way he’d stayed with me. Silent. Solid. Present.
And now we were pretending it never happened. God, it was just like when he kissed me. He was acting as if he wasn’t the only person, besides my brother, who’s ever seen me come completely undone.
The fridge opened behind me. I stiffened slightly but didn’t turn around.
“I’m just grabbing water,” his voice came out quiet and careful. Almost as if he spoke too loudly, I would break down.
“Okay,” I said because I didn’t know what else to say.
A pause.
Then I heard the sound of the bottle cap twisting off. And then… nothing. I finally looked over my shoulder. But he didn’t leave. Reed stood with one hand on the fridge door, water in the other, eyes on me like I was fragile.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded too quickly and spun around to face him.
“Yeah. Fine.”
The muscles in his jaw tensed, like he didn’t believe me.
“Last night—”
“I’m not going to tell Harper,” I cut in, sharper than I meant to. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
His brows knitted in confusion.
“That’s not what I was gonna say.”
“Oh.”
He took a few steps towards me, and I hated how even that made my pulse kick up. We’ve had a million conversations in this house, but after last night, I swear something has changed between us.
“I wasn’t going to say anything unless you wanted to,” he said, softer now. “But I saw you, Wren. You know that, right?”
My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. I remembered what Lena said this morning, “You’re not the kind of girl who lets someone see her like that.
Not unless they actually see you. Normally, if you’re upset and someone comes around, you shut that shit down.
You put on a smile until you’re alone again. ”
Reed set his water down on the counter where I was leaning and ran a hand through his hair. The Tegaderm covering his new tattoo on his forearm caught the light.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Wren,” he said.
God. Hearing that was almost worse than pretending, but it felt like he meant it.
“I don’t know what last night was,” I whispered. “But it felt like something to me.”
I fidgeted with the cuff of my hoodie sleeve to avoid making eye contact with him.
“I’ve never been good at showing emotions.
You know that. I just—” My voice cracked, and I paused, breathing slowly through my nose.
“I don’t want to ruin whatever this is by admitting how much last night meant to me.
I feel like I drove you away years ago. But I want you to know how much you being there for me meant to me. ”
He looked at me for what felt like a long time.
Eyes steady. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.
This time, he was close enough that the scent of his woodsy body wash drifted over me, clean and sharp with a hint of sweetness underneath.
It wrapped around me before he even touched me, like his presence had weight or gravity.
“It felt like something to me, too,” he whispered. “Then again, you have always felt like something to me. You let me in this time. That’s not nothing.”
The silence between us stretched; it was electric. And when he gently took my hand, stopping me from tugging at the frayed cuff of my hoodie, I felt it everywhere. Like a pulse of warmth that started in my chest and spread outward, tingling at the edges of my fingers.
My eyes finally met his, and my breath caught in my throat. The distant noises from the video game faded, replaced by the sound of the rapid beat of my pulse.
He didn’t say anything. Just looked at me, and something in his eyes made my stomach twist, like I was standing at the edge of a cliff.
For a second, I imagined him kissing me. The way his hand might slide to my jaw. The way time might fold in on itself if he did.
The thought struck so gently it hurt.
I refused to be the one to close this distance and kiss him. So, I waited for him to kiss me. I wasn’t breathing. Honestly, I don’t think either of us was.
“Hey, Reed!” Cam’s voice boomed from the living room, loud and clueless. “Grab me a water, man!”
Reed blinked, like the world had slammed back into place. He glanced toward the sound, then back at me. His lips curved into the smallest smile. It was soft and apologetic.
He backed away and grabbed a second bottle out of the fridge, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen like I’d just imagined the whole thing.
I spun back around and pressed my palms against the counter, trying to ground myself, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning. They tripped over each other, loud and fast and messy.
What are we even doing?
What am I doing?
What is this feeling all of a sudden?
I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Not with him. Not now. This was crazy, right? Maybe not? Because he had seen me at my worst. And instead of turning away, he stayed. He chose to.
But what if that was all it was? Pity. A moment. A fluke in the middle of a breakdown. I hated that I wanted to ask. Hated that I wanted more.
I know we’re not kids anymore, and realistically, we hadn’t been for a long time.
But I’ve known Reed since I was twelve. Fourteen years of shared history, memories, inside jokes, and unspoken rules.
Even after my shitty ex-boyfriend practically ruined me and everything I believe in, Reed swooped in.
My previous boyfriend had broken up with me right before my twentieth birthday.
When he came and sat next to me at the beach, on the day of my birthday, it grounded me immediately.
It had meant everything to me that he came to check on me.
But when he kissed me and reminded me how strong I was and that I would be okay, our dynamic changed.
At least I thought it did, but we never mentioned the kiss.
At this point, I doubt he remembers it happened.
And yet… Here we are again, but now it feels like I’m seeing him for the very first time.
Really seeing him. Not the boy I grew up with.
Not my brother’s best friend. But someone entirely different.
And something about that feels dangerous.
Harper is my best friend. His little sister.
She trusts me with everything, but I never got the courage to tell her about the kiss that happened all those years ago.
I don’t know what she’d say if she knew that part of me is looking at him like he’s something I want.
Like he was someone I could trust wholeheartedly, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that trust.
I think the worst part of all of this is how easy it feels. It was terrifyingly natural. Like it had always been there. Maybe before last night, I was just too loyal to our siblings or too scared to notice.
I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a long breath through my nose. No more unraveling. Not in the middle of my kitchen.
Not when my brother was just in the other room, unknowingly sipping water handed to him by the same guy whose lips had hovered over mine twenty seconds ago. The guy whose eyes dragged over my skin like a secret. Whose hands hadn’t even touched me, but still made me feel like I was already his.
Every time he looked at me like that, like he knew exactly how to ruin me, I felt my pulse stutter, my breath go shallow.
I hadn’t even slept with him, and still, my body ached like it remembered how he felt on top of me.
And God help me, I wanted him to come back into this kitchen, press me into the counter, and make me forget if we were supposed to be hiding anything at all.
I took the longest breath of my life and reached for a mug instead. I needed something to do with my hands, so I made tea in hopes it would calm me down. Tea and a good sketch. Yeah, this wasn’t going to work.