I finished the email and leaned back slightly, tapping my fingers against the desk just to make noise. The silence stretched, Wren somewhere in the kitchen laughing, probably at her phone.
I smirked to myself and turned my head a fraction—just enough to toss my voice toward the couch.
“So, are you done being a jackass?” I asked bluntly.
Cam didn’t move. “If being honest made me a jackass, then no. I am not done being honest. It’s a good quality to have, Harp.”
I rolled my eyes, turned back around, and spat out a calm, “Fuck you.”
After I reviewed the email for the twelfth time and hit send, I stood up from the desk and stretched, trying to shake off the weight of Cam’s weirdness.
Wren had moved from the kitchen island to the table, and I walked towards her, tapping the wall as I went. “I’m gonna turn in early. Just want some quiet tonight.”
Wren glanced up from her phone, blinking. “You, okay?”
“Yeah. Just… tired. Fried.” I offered a small smile. “Alone time sounds like heaven.”
She nodded, not pushing. “Let me know if you need anything. Love you, Harp.”
I murmured a soft, “Love you too, Wrennie. Goodnight,” then padded down the hallway, the wooden floor cool under my feet.
Cam said nothing from the couch, which surprised me because I was waiting for something else really fucking rude to be said tonight. He was being more inconsiderate than usual. But then again, the universe knew how to kick me when I was down.
The guest room was across from his. Close enough to beinconvenient. I shut the door behind me and exhaled. It was like stepping into a memory.
Soft amber lights spilled across the space, catching on the walls we’d painted together last autumn—Wren on a ladder with a paintbrush, me on the floor with paper swatches spread around me, laughing and arguing over shades of cream and dusty sage.
The room had turned out warm, rich, and calming, like a hug in the form of four walls. There were a few boho lamps, a large bookshelf next to the window, plants on every ledge, framed prints we’d thrifted and Wren repainted, and a throw blanket in the exact shade of stormy blue that I’d said reminded me of Michigan skies.
It was truly a dream room. Wren had let me build it with her, told me it was our creative project, and I hadn’t expected to ever actually live in it. But here I was.
I sat on the bed, ran my hand over the quilt, and leaned back on my elbows. Everything smelled faintly of eucalyptus and old books.
Outside the closed door, the house creaked as it settled. Wren’s quiet laugh echoed down the hall, followed by Cam’s low voice, too soft to catch the words.
I gnawed at my lip. This room was supposed to be my temporary safe space. I guess I just hadn’t planned on sleeping so close to the one person who made me feel anything but safe.
5
CAM
Yeah, okay. I fucked up. Bad.
I hadn’t meant a word I said, but I said it so nothing more would happen between us. How do I explain having feelings for my sister's best friend? Or my best friend's little sister? When Wren and Reed got together, I basically threw a bitch fit. How would it look if I went and did the same thing?
And yeah, I was staring while Harper was typing her email.
I could tell she knew it, but I just didn’t care enough to stop. Not when she looked like that—curled up in her hoodie, face bare, her pink curls soft and pulled back into a low ponytail. She constantly dolled herself up, never having a hair out of place. But this? This version of her? Now there was no armor or sharp edges. Just Harper, tired, beautiful, and trying so damn hard to keep it together.
God, I was being weird. No, it was more than that. I was being such a fucking asshole. Wren had told me about Harper’s house and what happened, and I still said that to her.
I dragged a hand over the back of my neck and leaneddeeper into the couch, letting the sound of the game play in the background while my brain refused to shut up.
A soft sound in the kitchen pulled me from my thoughts.
“You good?” I asked.
There was the sound of a chair moving, and then footsteps. Wren poked her head into the living room. “Me? Yeah. Why?”
