Would I be like Finn?
Would I be worse?
He says nothing now, just stands there staring at her as though she’s gravity and he’s been weightless for too long. And if she turns away, he’ll start to float again—untethered. Alone.
And I can’t help but think…he might be right.
Because Willow? She has this power. She sees people in ways they don’t expect. In ways they need. There’s something about her that draws you in, captures your heart, and holds you hostage.
I clear my throat, needing to break the spell before it pulls me in too. “We should go.”
My voice is more gravel than sound, rougher than I meant it to be. She flinches slightly—forgetting I’m here—which stings, if I’m being honest. But then she turns to look at me, those wide eyes searching, uncertain.
“Okay,” she says softly.
No fight. No sass. Just…quiet agreement.
And that makes me itch even more.
Finn doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. But his eyes flick to mine, and there’s no challenge there. Not this time.
Only…acceptance.
He knows he won’t win this round, and he’s letting her go because he cares. And he knows she will be back. I step toward her, resting my hand lightly on the small of her back, not because I have to guide her. But because I need to touch her. To remind both of us that she’s still here. With me.
As we walk away, her steps slow for half a second. I don’t ask why.
I already know. She’s thinking about turning back to him. About breaking my rules.
My fingers flex against her lower back, but I don’t say a word to stop her—not if that’s what she decides. My heart pounds as I wait, silent, giving her space to choose.
Then she looks over her shoulder, her gaze lingering. One second. Two. A breath caught in time.
“I’ll see you soon,” she says.
It’s a promise. Soft. Certain.
And I know I’ll help her keep it. Because I’ve already dug myself too deep. I’m not sure there’s a way out of this that doesn’t end with us pulling Finn Reed into our pack.
If we want to keep her? We might have to keep him, too.
She’s quiet as we walk.
I don’t push.
I just keep my hand at the small of her back, steering her through the scattered crowd. The city’s always loud, but the space between us feels hushed.
Willow finally glances up at me, one brow arched. “You’re not going to lecture me? About acknowledging him? Going to him?”
I smirk. “Should I?”
“Maybe,” she says, eyes sparkling up at me and hermouth tilting into a smirk of her own. “You’re good at being bossy, remember?”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, “but tonight you followed the rules.”
She gives me a look—dry and full of sarcasm. “Barely.”
I hum. “Close enough. I was with you. It was in public. So controlled and safe-ish.”
