Chapter 35 Wren
WREN
My eyes flew open to darkness. Not the dreamy, starlit kind. The heavy kind—quiet, disorienting, and laced with panic. I sat up fast, heart pounding. The blanket slipped from my bare chest as the cool air bit at my skin.
“Oh my fucking God.”
The sky was darker than before. The stars had started to fade, the night thinning into that pale blue-gray just before dawn. I reached around blindly and grabbed the first phone I could find—Reed’s. I tapped the screen.
Three fourteen a.m.
“Oh fucking fuck. Why me?”
My fingers fumbled as I pulled his hoodie over my head, limbs stiff and clumsy from sleep and the weight of what the hell did I just do? Not because I regretted it—because I didn’t.
But because it happened. And neither of us meant to fall asleep for this long. Especially not here. Not like this. Completely naked. In public. Tangled up in each other like we didn’t belong to anyone or anywhere else.
Behind me, Reed stirred.
“Wren?” His voice was thick with sleep, low and gravel-warm, edged with concern.
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. My chest felt tight. My brain spun.
“Wrennie.”
Hearing my nickname pulled me from my trance.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I said, breath shaky as I bent to grab my bra and boots.
“I should’ve left hours ago. Not saying I shouldn’t have done everything we did, but I shouldn’t have stayed out this late.
What if Cam realizes I didn’t come home? God, what would he think?! What if—”
The blanket rustled.
“Hey,” Reed said gently. “Come here.”
“I can’t. It’s late. I don’t want anyone to—”
“Wren Willow Callahan.”
Firmer this time. Steady.
I froze. My fingers were halfway through lacing my boot, vision blurring from the tears I didn’t want to admit were there. My shoulders shook—from the cold, yeah, but mostly from the pressure collapsing all at once.
I felt the truck bed shift behind me. Then his hands wrapped around my waist. He pulled me gently back onto his bare lap, the blanket settling around us both like a shield. His hands cupped my face.
“You’re okay,” he said, voice low and sure.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re an adult, Wren.
You can’t be in trouble. He can be mad all he wants, but Wren…
if you’re happy here, in my arms… he can’t take that from you.
He won’t. You cannot live your life in fear of disappointing Cameron.
You do not owe him for getting you out of that shitty house. ”
I finally looked up. His green eyes were soft, still hazy from sleep, but focused entirely on me. He pressed his forehead to mine and just breathed. Slow. Steady. Letting me match his rhythm until the tightness in my chest started to ease.
“I just didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I wasn’t planning on—”
“I know,” he murmured. “Neither was I.”
He kissed my forehead. Just once. No pressure. No expectation. Just warmth.
“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. “Give me a minute to find my shirt.”
I nodded.
A few minutes later, we were back in the truck.
His hoodie he had given me a few weeks ago, was warm, sleeves too long, his scent still tucked into every fold.
I sat in the passenger seat with one hand resting in his lap.
He didn’t say anything—just drove one-handed, the other wrapped gently around mine, thumb tracing slow circles into my skin.
The night hadn’t ended how I planned. But sitting next to him with the windows cracked, the wind brushing over my skin, and my heart still thudding like it didn’t know how to slow down…
I didn’t feel ashamed. I felt safe. And honestly? The sex was mind-blowing, but falling asleep together was just icing on the cake. I knew I was falling in love with Reed Ash Whitmore.