Page 44 of You Found Me in the Dark
“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 hasdefinitelynever 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.
28
WREN
The second the door clicked shut behind Harper, I let out a slow breath. That went so fucking well, it was a relief. I have no idea why I thought Harp would have an issue with this, maybe because if the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t be thrilled.
It was a little after eleven at night, and the house was finally still again. She’d hugged me on her way out, told me to figure out a way to tell Cam before he figured shit out himself. Then she vanished with a parting look over her shoulder. It was a warning and a smirk rolled into one.
Classic Harper.
I shuffled back to the couch, Reed’s hoodie still wrapped around me like armor I wasn’t ready to take off. The iced coffee she’d brought sat forgotten on the coffee table, condensation puddling beneath it. My head was still swimming with thoughts about today—Reed’s hands on my skin, the tattoo needle humming against my chest, and that look in his eyes, right before Dax had interrupted us.
God. That look.
I sank into the cushions, pulling my knees to my chest. My fingers itched toward my phone before my brain could talk me out of it. I opened our text thread. I typed, then paused. Deleted. Re-typed. Then, finally, hit send.
Me
She knows.
The reply came fast.
R
Who? Harp? What happened?
Me
Walked in, saw your hoodie, and immediately turned into Sherlock Holmes.
I could practically see his smile through the screen.
R
… You kept the hoodie on??
I rolled my eyes as I blushed.
Me
Don’t even. I was cold.
