Chapter 42
REED
This girl was going to be the death of me, I swear.
We had the best sex I had ever had, and then she fell asleep almost immediately.
This girl is the sleepiest person I have ever met.
She had been out for over two hours, and now the sun was starting to set.
I tried my best not to wake her as I got up.
She stirred in her sleep but went right back to bed.
I got up and threw on my clothes just so I could run to the bathroom.
I opened the door and headed up the hallway.
The bathroom was across the hall from Wren’s.
I got into the bathroom and locked the door.
Looking in the mirror, I realized I only had my boxers on.
I looked like I had gone ten rounds instead of one, and I still smelled like Wren’s sweet release.
None of this would’ve mattered if I hadn’t just heard the garage door to the house close.
My eyes widened, color draining from my face.
Oh fuck, my car was out front still, so of course he’s going to come looking for me.
I heard the drop of keys and footsteps down the hall.
“Fuck, Cam, just go to your room,” I whispered to myself.
I had left Wren’s door open more than a crack so I didn’t wake her with her squeaky door.
He must’ve checked in on her, because now he was calling for me.
Shit. My pants were on the ground of his little sister’s room, and if I answered him calling to me, I would answer in my boxers. I dragged a hand over my face.
The footsteps stopped. Right outside the door.
“Reed?” Cam’s voice was lower now. Closer.
Shit. My heart pounded in my chest, hammering like it wanted to escape the moment as much as I did. I stood frozen, every muscle locked tight.
I tried to sound casual. “Yeah. In here.”
A long pause.
“I checked Wren’s room,” he said, voice clipped. “She’s out cold. But your jeans are in the middle of her floor.”
My stomach dropped.
I stared at myself in the mirror, every excuse I’d ever used in my life suddenly gone from memory. Cam wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t oblivious. And I knew that tone—controlled, sharp, like a wire pulled too tight.
“I’m not asking,” he added. “Open the door.”
“Cam—”
“Now.”
I hesitated for half a second, then unlocked the door. He was standing there, jaw tight, eyes flicking over me like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch me or just burn the whole house down.
Boxers. Wrinkled shirt. Barefoot. And, fuck me, the scent of sex still clinging to my skin.
“Say something,” I muttered.
He did. Just not with words.
Cam shoved me hard against the door frame, not enough to hurt but enough to rattle me. “You didn’t leave,” he said, like the words physically burned his throat. “After everything you said in the garage.”
He laughed bitterly, backing up a step like the space between us could keep him from breaking something. “You know how this looks, right? Sneaking into my sister’s room the same damn night you told me you were in love with her? What happened to not hiding anymore?”
I ran a hand over my face. “I didn’t sneak in. She asked me to stay.”
His eyes narrowed. “And you couldn’t wait one fucking day before you—”
“Cameron Rowan Callahan.” I cut him off, grabbing his shoulder. “We’re not playing games. I love her. I’m not messing around. I didn’t come here for sex. I came here for her. She is twenty-six years old. She’s not the helpless kid you saved from your dad all those years ago. Let her grow up, man.”
He stared at me, breathing hard, fists clenched like he was fighting every instinct to swing. The tension stretched tight between us—years of friendship versus one irreversible truth.
“She’s not a one-night thing,” I said, quieter now. “She’s it for me.”
Cam closed his eyes like he was praying for patience, or strength, or maybe both. Then he opened them again and rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm.
“Fuck,” he said finally. “I just need to wrap my head around this. If she’s happy, that’s all that matters. This isn’t easy for me, Reed.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He turned and walked back down the hallway, stopping just once to say over his shoulder, “Take a shower and put your damn pants on.”
And then he was gone.
I exhaled slowly, leaned my head against the wall, and whispered, “Fuck.”