Page 62 of You Found Me in the Dark
“And now?” he asked, bitter.
“Now I care about her. A hell of a lot.” I knew Wren was listening; I could feel her eyes on me when I spoke.
His mouth twitched, like that admission landed somewhere unexpected.
“I’d never hurt her,” I said, meaning every word. “Whatever this turns into, I’m not walking away. I’m not gonna be some mistake she regrets.”
He stared at me, chest rising and falling fast, like he was trying to decide whether to hit me or hear me out.
“You should’ve talked to me first or at least before this shit,” he said finally, voice rough.
“I know,” I said. “You’re right.”
He shook his head slowly, then glanced over at Wren—who hadn’t moved from the walkway, watching it all go down with wide, unreadable eyes.
“Then fix this,” he said, turning his back and walking toward the house. “Start by not hiding her. She’s not someone you get to call when you need a quick hookup. You knew better, Reed.”
Behind him, Wren stepped up onto the porch, her voice quiet but steady. “Cam, stop. Please.”
He turned toward her. “You could’ve told me.”
“I know,” she said. “I didn’t plan for any of this either. But I’m okay. He took care of me.”
That landed. Not in the way that calmed him rather in the way that confirmed what he was starting to understand. That shetrusted me. That maybe, just maybe, she felt something deeper than he was ready to hear. Maybe something I did, too.
Cam’s eyes cut back to me, sharp and unreadable. He didn’t say anything for a beat. Then he ran a hand down his face, stepping back like he was physically pulling himself away from doing something he’d regret.
“I’m going inside,” he muttered, voice tight. He stepped past Wren without touching her.
Then, right as he hit the door, he turned.
“But you?” He jabbed a finger in my direction again, “Go home.”
Not angry. Not yelling. Just final. Like a door closing. He didn’t even wait to see if I’d listen. Just walked inside, the screen door creaking behind him, then slamming shut. Honestly, I think that hurt more than if he had beaten the shit out of me. I had disappointed my best friend. Iwasgoing to fix this. Fix us.
Wren lingered on the steps, arms wrapped around herself. She didn’t speak until the house went quiet again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes still on the door.
“Don’t be,” I said, trying to be reassuring. “I’ve known Cam for a long time, and I can honestly say I expected this to go worse. But for you, Little Birdie, I’d do it all over again.” I meant every word. As hard as this was for me, I would do it again for her.
She turned, then looked up at me. And even with all that had just happened, she smiled. Something about it felt worth the fallout.
37
REED
The drive back to my house felt longer than it should’ve. Roads I’d taken a thousand times felt unfamiliar in the quiet aftermath of it all. My hands gripped the wheel tighter than usual, knuckles white against the leather, headlights cutting through the dark like they were chasing something.
I didn’t turn on the radio. Just let the silence sit. She’d fallen asleep curled up beside me in the truck bed, her head on my chest, fingers brushing my ribs. The blanket barely covered us, and our skin was still warm from the life-altering sex we had. I could still feel her. I could still see the way she looked at me like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run or stay forever. It had been hours ago, and I still felt like I was back there. I still wanted to be.
But Cam’s voice kept cutting through it all.
“You were supposed to be my friend.”
He wasn’t wrong. I should’ve said something as soon as I started feeling anything for her. That was his little sister. He probably thought of me as her second brother, but I never felt that way towards Wren. It wasn’t always this attraction, but to me, she wasalways just Wren, but now she was everything. I could’ve made a hundred better choices, but the truth was I don’t regret any of it. The way Wren trusted me tonight? The way she gave herself over to something messy and real? I’d take the fallout for that.
I pulled into my driveway just after five in the morning, gravel crunching beneath the tires, and the sun had started rising over the bay. I didn’t move right away, just sat there with the engine off and the weight of everything settling in. Harper was right, I should’ve said something.
