Chapter 27 Wren
WREN
Ididn’t realize how quiet the world was until Reed’s truck pulled away. The hoodie he’d tossed over my shoulders was oversized and smelled like him—clean, woodsy, with that faint trace of cologne he swore he didn’t wear. I didn’t want to ever take it off.
The house was calm when I walked in. Cam’s door was closed, probably passed out early from another late-night gaming marathon, or he was just hiding from the world in his usual way.
I made a beeline for the couch, curled up with my sketchbook, and continued the sketch of cosmos I had started weeks earlier.
It was starting to come together. I started to lose myself in the art.
I began to imagine how the flowers would look painted.
Then—
A knock at the door. I assumed it was Harper. No one else came by unannounced. I got up to go answer the door, but I had forgotten she had a key.
By the time I registered that I was still in Reed’s hoodie, it was too late.
She stepped inside like a whirlwind—iced coffees in one hand, a bag of chips tucked under her arm, her bright pink hair knotted on top of her head like a crown of chaos.
I stood up and walked towards her to make sure she didn’t drop anything.
Her eyes locked onto me instantly.
“Okay, you’ve got exactly five seconds to explain why you’re wearing that,” she said, narrowing her gaze and nodding toward the hoodie.
I blinked, panic flaring. I turned and made a quick exit back to the living room. “What?”
“That.” She followed, shutting the door behind her and dropping onto the couch beside me, somehow keeping pace despite my speed-walk of shame.
She pointed at the hoodie. “That’s Reed’s.
I bought it for him last Christmas. He wore it nonstop for like a month.
It smells like his car and that dumb cologne he pretends not to use.
So, tell me why my best friend is dressed like a Tumblr fever dream in my brother’s clothes. ”
My heart stumbled in my chest.
“It was cold,” I said, too flat, too casual. “We were out. I didn’t have a jacket.”
Harper raised a brow. “Uh-huh. Out where, exactly?”
“Just… out.” I winced. Weak.
“You don’t even like going out, Wren. You hate people. So forgive me if I need just a little more context here.”
I looked down at the sleeves bunched around my hands and didn’t say anything. Silence stretched between us. I didn’t know what to tell her. How do you tell your best friend you’re falling in love with her brother?
Finally, Harper sighed, pulling her legs up onto the couch.
“Look. I don’t care if something’s going on,” she said, softer now.
“That’s a lie—I do care. But not because I’d be mad.
I just… you’re my best friend. And he’s my brother.
If something’s happening, I’d rather hear it from you before it turns into a full-blown soap opera. ”
My throat tightened. I stared at her, torn between denial and the truth pressing against the back of my teeth.
“Nothing’s official,” I finally admitted. “We’re just… figuring it out. He took me to the shop today, and I ended up getting a tattoo. That’s all. It wasn’t anything major, I swear.”
She studied me for a long beat. Then she gave one slow nod, like she wasn’t sure if she should be concerned or weirdly impressed.
“Well,” she said, grabbing a chip and popping it in her mouth, “if he hurts you, I will shave his eyebrows in his sleep. That’s not a threat, it’s a guarantee.”
I let out a laugh.
“You two have always had a thing,” she added, grinning. “Since we were, what? Nineteen? And the guys were twenty-three? I saw the glances. I just think maybe you didn’t realize what they meant back then.” She nudged me. “It was only a matter of time. Now show me your tattoo, dingus.”
I laughed again—genuine, full—and pulled down the hoodie collar to expose my Tegaderm wrapped tattoo on my collarbone.
“Speaking of having a thing… After Tyler and I split, on what would have been our fifth anniversary, Reed found me sitting alone on the beach. We talked for a while, and we ended up kissing.” I sighed.
“I know that happened six years ago, and I’m sorry I never told you.
I just didn’t want it to change anything between us. But I need you to know now.”
Harper leaned in a little closer, eyes scanning the tattoo like she could decode the whole story behind it.
“Yeah, I already knew. You guys didn’t hide it well after that.
We are both adults, Wrennie. If he makes you happy, so be it.
” She squeezed my hand and continued staring at the tattoo.
“Okay… this is gorgeous. Not a spontaneous, ‘Hey, let’s do something crazy’ kind of tattoo. This is… thoughtful.”
I swallowed. “Reed designed it.”
Her head whipped toward me. “He did?”
I nodded, tugging the sleeve down a little like that might hide how much the area still tingled. “He said he wanted it to feel like me. He gave me the waxing moon to signify a new and brighter beginning.”
Harper blinked, and for once, she didn’t have a quick comeback.
“Jesus, Wren,” she murmured, leaning back slowly, “that’s not a tattoo. That’s a love letter.”
I looked away, adjusting the hoodie, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I know.”
“And you’re just… casually telling me this while wearing his hoodie, like you didn’t just drop a whole damn bomb in my living room.”
I cracked a smile. “I guess?”
“Oh, babe.” She reached over, flicking the end of the hoodie string. “It’s practically written across your forehead in glittery Sharpie. You’re glowing. Like—‘accidentally fell in love with a man who sketches flowers and means it when he says you matter’ kind of glowing.”
My jaw dropped, laughing despite myself. “Harper! My God!”
She grinned, completely unbothered. “What? I know my brother. He’s always been careful with people. Never wanted to let anyone in. But with you? He’s almost careless. He’s so real around you. Like he finally took off the armor.”
I swallowed hard. “Honestly, Harp, it scares me a little.”
Harper’s smile dropped from her face, replaced by something softer. “Why?”
“Because I’ve known him for years. And part of me always thought I was imagining it—that tension.
Those little moments.” I looked down at my hands.
“Now that it’s real, I don’t know what to do with it.
What if we ruin it? What if we screw up and mess up everything?
What if you end up hating me, or Cam can’t handle us wanting to be together? ”
Harper let the silence sit for a second before replying, “Wren… life’s too damn short to be afraid of something that feels this right.”
I met her eyes.
“And yeah,” she continued, “you might mess up. He might. But you’re not strangers stumbling into this. You know each other. You’ve got a foundation. That means something.”
I felt my chest tighten, but this time it didn’t feel like panic. I was excited to see where this might go.
“I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that,” Harper added. “And I’ve never seen him act like a goner for anyone. He has definitely never broken someone’s nose before. You’ve got him wrapped around your pinky, and the idiot probably likes it.”
I laughed. “I like him too much.”
She nudged me again. “Good. Then don’t fight it.”
We sat there for a beat longer in companionable silence, sipping iced coffee and eating chips at almost nine at night. I was so happy Harper took this so well, but I know Cam is a whole different ball game. But for tonight, I’ll take this as a win.