Page 46 of Rampage

I consider the question, grateful for his directness. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Everything's happened so fast. A few days ago, I was just trying to make it through each day without looking over my shoulder. Now I'm sitting in your kitchen, under club protection, with a lawyer fighting my battles."

"Too much?" he asks, watching me carefully.

"No," I answer truthfully. "Just… different. I've been handling everything alone for so long, I'm not sure how to let other people help."

Reid reaches across the island, taking my hand in his. His palm is warm, calloused in places, the touch grounding. "You don't have to figure it all out tonight. Let me take care of you, and carry this burden. And you relax.”

The simple statement brings tears to my eyes. I blink them away, focusing on my food. "Tell me more about your residency. When do you start?"

He allows the change of subject, talking about his upcoming position at the hospital, his specialization in pediatrics, the fellowship he hopes to pursue afterward. His face lights up when he discusses medicine, especially when he talks about the children he'll be treating.

"Most people are surprised," he admits, refilling our glasses. "A Sinner who's also a doctor."

"I was at first," I confess. "But now that I know you, it makes perfect sense."

"How so?" He looks genuinely curious, taking another sip of his water.

I consider my answer, wanting to articulate what I've observed about him. "You're a protector by nature. Whether it's with the club or in medicine, you're driven to shield others from harm. And you have this… gentleness beneath the strength." I gesture vaguely at him. "Your hands can throw a man against a police car one minute and bandage a wound the next."

His eyes darken at my words, something flashing in their depths that makes my pulse quicken. "You see me," he says quietly, echoing my earlier sentiment.

We finish dinner in comfortable silence, the weight of the day settling over us like a blanket. When I stifle a yawn, Reid immediately stands, collecting our plates.

"Bed," he says, his tone brooking no argument. "You're exhausted."

I don't protest, my body heavy with fatigue. As I rise from the stool, my legs wobble slightly. Reid is at my side instantly, his arm around my waist.

"I've got you," he murmurs, guiding me toward the bedroom.

The intimacy of preparing for bed together—Reid pulling back the covers while I brush my teeth, the quiet domesticity of it all—strikes me with an unexpected force. This man, who barely knew me days ago, has woven himself into the fabric of my life with such seamless care that it feels as if he's always been there.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Reid is sitting on the side of the bed, his phone in hand. He looks up, his expression softening as he takes in the sight of me in the pajamas his mother bought—soft flannel pants and a matching top that's slightly too big, the sleeves falling past my fingertips.

"Come here," he says, and that’s when my phone dings with a text message.

I cross to him, standing between his spread knees. His hands settle on my waist, warm and steady through the thin material.

"I need to ask you something," he says, his voice serious. "And I need you to be honest with me."

My heart skips a beat. "Okay."

"Are you comfortable sharing a bed with me tonight?" His eyes search mine, looking for any sign of hesitation. "After everything you've told me, after what you've been through… I need to know if you want me to take the couch."

The consideration behind his question, his willingness to prioritize my comfort over his own, makes my throat tight with emotion.

"I want you here," I say, placing my hands on his shoulders. "With me."

Relief washes over his features. "You're sure?"

In answer, I lean down and press my lips to his, a confirmation. His hands tighten at my waist, but he keeps the kiss chaste, respectful.

When I pull back, his eyes search mine with an intensity that steals my breath.

"I should warn you," he says, voice dropping to a husky rumble, "I'm protective in my sleep. You might wake up pinned."

A shiver runs through me at his words. "I don't mind."

He smiles, a slow, warm curve of his lips that makes my heart stutter. "Get in bed. I'll join you in a minute."

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