I allow myself to cry, not because of Layla, the fire, or the scars, but because I finally said it out loud.
I can’t do this anymore.
Not even five minutes later, I hear a truck’s doors slam outside.
The front door opens and clicks shut. Two pairs of footsteps echo through the hallway.
Maverick is first through the door, with Carter right behind him.
Carter’s wearing his ranch jacket, his hair still damp from a shower, and his face looks like stone. The moment he sees my hand and the crack in the mirror behind me, his jaw clenches.
“Goddammit, Reed,” Carter mutters. “You could’ve called both of us.”
“I called one of you,” I rasp, glancing at Mav, pinching my brows together.
“Yeah,” Carter says. “And he called me. That’s how this works. You fall apart; we show up.”
They move into the bathroom as if they’ve done this before, because they have.
Maverick grabs a towel, crouches, and applies pressure to my hand, while Carter leans against the doorway with his arms crossed, his blue eyes sharp but tired.
Nobody talks for a while. The only sounds are our breathing and the faint creak of the floor beneath Carter’s boots.
Maverick breaks the silence first. “What’s going on, Reed?”
Carter’s brow furrows, sadness flashing in his eyes. “Reed, please, we can’t lose you. We almost lost you once.”
I stare down at my shaky hands, watching Maverick apply pressure to the other. “It’s about Layla.”
Carter stills. “Catalina’s Layla?”
“Yeah.”
Maverick lets out a breath. “She’s engaged, dude.”
Carter blinks once, slowly, as if he’s trying to process this information.
Maverick keeps his eyes on me, waiting.
I drag a shaky breath. “I’ve been seeing her.”
Carter’s expression flickers, shock, disbelief, then concern. “You what?”
“We’ve been together,” I say quietly. “Secretly. For months.”
Maverick shifts beside me but doesn’t interrupt.
“She reached out about filming that video for the bar,” I continue. “We started talking. Then she came down to shoot, and we grew close. It just… happened. I didn’t mean for it to. But I—” My throat tightens. “I love her.”
Carter exhales hard, dragging his hand down his face. “Jesus Christ, Reed.”
“I know.”
“She’s engaged,” he repeats.
“I know,” I whisper. “I tried to stop it, but every time I looked at her, it felt like something inside me finally made sense again. Like I could breathe.”
Maverick leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You think she feels the same?”
