Chapter 21 Wren
WREN
The house was quiet. It was past eleven, so it made sense.
God, I cannot believe we stayed all day, but I am so glad we went to help our girl out.
Cam was in his room by the time I got home from our cousin’s house.
I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. Then at my phone.
Then at the ceiling again. My thumb hovered over his name in my texts like it had twenty other times today.
There wasn’t a good reason to text him this late. But that hadn’t stopped me before. I chewed the inside of my cheek, then typed.
Me
I cannot believe I’m typing this and actually sending it, but I miss you.
I hit send before I could lose my nerve and immediately buried my face in my pillow, groaning. Idiot.
My phone buzzed five seconds later.
R
That makes two of us.
I smiled so hard it hurt.
Me
You’re not just saying that to be nice? Because that’s dangerously charming of you.
R
No charm. Just the truth. Actually… Maybe a little charm. But mostly the truth.
I laughed quietly into the blanket, rolling to my side. The ache in my chest from earlier had dulled now—still there, but softer.
Me
Last night was a lot. I am sorry you got caught up in it. But thank you, a broken nose suits him
R
Haha, it does. You were strong. I am proud of you.
Me
You always know what to say. That’s so unfair.
R
I just say what I mean, Wren.
My chest fluttered at that. I typed, then paused. Deleted. Rewrote. Then, finally sent my text.
Me
I wish I could’ve kissed you longer last night.
No response right away. For a second, I thought I’d ruined it. I said too much. Then the typing bubble appeared.
R
You have no idea how badly I wanted that, too. Honestly, I wanted to do more than just kiss, but I didn’t want to overstep. Next time, I won’t let anyone or anything interrupt.
My thighs pressed together, instinctive and desperate, chasing the pressure building between them. Every word he sent made it worse. It made me ache in a way I couldn’t ignore anymore.
Me
Soooo… There’s gonna be a next time?
R
Fuck yeah, there’s gonna be a next time.
My lips parted on a silent breath.
I tucked the phone against my chest, and my eyes fell shut. Maybe this was the start of something. Something good. Something mine. My phone was still clutched to my chest, his last message echoing louder than the quiet around me.
There’s gonna be a next time.
I bit my lip and sat up, cross-legged under the covers, typing slowly and carefully now.
Me
Can I ask you something without it getting… weird?
He was already typing before I could even put the phone back down.
R
Sweetheart, you can ask me anything.
God, will this man ever not make me blush? I didn’t let myself overthink. I just typed.
Me
What changed? Like… what made you feel this way? How long have you felt it?
Three dots. A pause. Then nothing. Then the dots came back.
R
Honestly? I think it started creeping in months after our kiss.
It was in the little things. You’d laugh at something dumb I said.
Or rant about a book. Or fuck, watching you work on the painting of Sawyers Cove for your first big commission at the golf course was amazing. I loved watching you in your element.
My breath caught.
R
But I thought it was just a little crush, I didn’t know what it was until that day in the kitchen. When you looked at me and didn’t pull away. When I realized I didn’t want to just protect you. I wanted you in every way.
My hand covered my mouth. Oh my God.
Me
I wish you had said something sooner. You’re helping me get through something I never thought I would be able to get through. You saved my life. I meant it when I called you my hero earlier.
I sent the first message but kept typing. I hated sending novel-sized texts. I always felt like information got missed.
Me
I forgot about that commission. That was the first painting I did after the breakup. I cannot believe it’s been five years since then. If you like watching me so much, that’s motivation enough to start painting again.
Shit, I really should go buy painting supplies. It’s time to make art again.
Me
I did start sketching again for the first time since that commission… I started the night after you found me on the bleachers. And shit, I thought maybe I was just imagining those feelings. Figured it was one-sided.
R
Fuck, really? I am so proud of you. I always loved your art when we were younger. I cannot wait to see what you make.
I swear he is the sweetest guy I have ever met. And so fucking genuine. I cannot stop smiling.
R
I definitely felt something; it was not one-sided. If Cam hadn’t yelled for me, I don’t think I could’ve stopped myself from kissing you right there.
My face was officially on fire. Then another text.
R
Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve stopped at kissing..
Me
So… what now?
R
Now we stop pretending this is temporary. Now we figure it out. Unless you don’t want more.
Me
I do. I really do, and so much more.
There was a long pause, and I could almost feel him smiling on the other side of town.
R
Then let me show you, I want this too. Not just in texts.
My whole body buzzed. I buried my face in my pillow, a smile tugging at my lips so hard it almost hurt.
My pulse kicked up, a fast flutter in my chest like I was seventeen again and sneaking around after curfew.
But I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I knew what I wanted.
And I wanted to know just how serious he was about this.
I bit my lip, smirking at my screen as I typed:
Me
How would you show me?
Three dots. Then nothing. Then again—three dots. Yeah, squirm a little, I thought, grinning.
Finally, he sent a message.
R
You sure you want the answer to that, Baby? Might make it hard for you to sleep tonight.
My jaw dropped. I stared at the message, heat rising up my neck like I’d just walked into a room with no clothes on.
Me
That’s a bold choice of nickname, sir.
R
Says the one who just called me Sir. You don’t like it? I can try another. Pretty Girl? Trouble? Sweetheart? Little Birdie? Take your pick.
Me
I’m going to pretend I didn’t just blush so hard I had to hide under the covers. But Little Birdie?
R
I’m going to pretend I didn’t just picture that and want to drive to your house. Yeah, it’s cute because your name is a type of bird.
I let out a breathy laugh, biting the edge of my thumbnail, heart hammering so loud I swear I could hear it echoing off the walls.
Me
Okay, that’s really fucking cute, but I asked a serious question, though. How would you show me?
There was a pause. A longer one this time.
R
I’d start slow. Make you look at me the way you did in the kitchen. Then I’d touch you like I’ve been wanting to. Nothing rushed. Nothing half-measured. I want to feel every inch of you. I want to memorize every inch of your body.
My breath caught and my eyes widened.
R
I’d kiss you until you forgot every reason you ever doubted me. And I wouldn’t stop until you felt safe, wanted, and whole. God Wren, the things I wanted to do to you in your kitchen and my truck would’ve proved all of this.
I exhaled shakily and tossed the phone aside like it had burned me. But it only took thirty seconds before I snatched it back and typed:
Me
I wouldn’t have stopped you. I have been thinking about some stuff I’d like to do to you, too. I have a feeling your voice would sound hot telling me how pretty I looked on my knees. Damn, I hope no one ever sees these messages.
R
Fuck, Wren. You have no idea what that text just did to me. And no one will. This is ours.
Me
Good. Because I can’t stop smiling. And I don’t want to.
I didn’t get a reply for a while. But when it came, it was soft. Simple.
R
Sleep, Little Birdie. I’ll see you soon.
And with that, I finally let myself close my eyes. My phone was still in my hand, and his texts repeated in my mind.