Page 46 of You Found Me in the Dark
I smiled. Nope, I was full-blown grinning, cheeks-flushed, heart-skipping kind of smile. Practically, giggling and kicking my feet.
Me
That so?
R
If it wasn’t so late, I’d be making sure you weren’t cold right now. No need for that damn hoodie when you could just be wrapped up in my arms.
My entire face went warm. The heat traveled straight to my pussy. I squeezed my thighs, trying to will away the ache. Goddamn him.
Me
Reed?
R
Yeah?
Me
You’re making it very hard to play it cool.
A pause. My pulse pounded in the quiet.
Then—
R
Good. I think I prefer flustered Wrento playing-it-cool Wren.
I laughed and bit my lip, trying not to squeal as I tucked the phone to my chest, heart pounding against the fabric of his hoodie. The one with the sun and crescent moon stitched together on the chest.The one that still smelled like his truck, like comfort, like him. For the first time in a long, long while, I didn’t feel like I was bracing for everything to fall apart.
Me
Well, in that case, goodnight Reed
He replied immediately.
R
Goodnight, my Little Birdie
29
REED
My hands were stained with grease, sleeves pushed up, knuckles scraped just enough to sting. The air in the garage was thick with the scent of motor oil, rust, and the low hum of a classic rock station playing from an old speaker in the corner. I was half under the hood of the 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS 396 I’d been rebuilding for months. The Chevelle isn’t just a car—it’s history, muscle, and grit wrapped in steel and fire. This isn’t the kind of thing you just own. You earn it. Every dent’s got a story. Every bolt’s been under my fingers. I’ve rebuilt it piece by piece, like a second spine. And like everything I give a damn about, I made it mine. Completely, unmistakably mine.
Something about the patience it took to fix an engine felt safer than thinking about everything else lately.
Especially her. My phone buzzed on the workbench. I wiped my hands on a rag and checked the screen.
Little Birdie
I want to go for a drivetonight. Just us.
It was Saturday, which meant it had already been over two weeks since Harper found out about what was going on between Wren and me. I didn’t answer her right away, just stared at the text, letting the weight of it sink in. The way she phrased it… she didn’t want company. She wanted me. The night I saw her on the bleachers, I let her know that if she ever wanted to go for a drive, to let me know. Now here she is asking me to take her on one. God, she has me wrapped around her finger, and I fucking love it.
