It feels like an invisible string pulls straight from his chest to mine, tugging us together before I even take a step.
This metaphorical string between us tightens, pulling, but my feet carry me forward before I even think. My heart’s still doing that wild stutter, but I paste on a grin, the kind Catalina always teases me for, because that’s what I do. I smile, even when my insides are tangled in knots.
The crowd parts enough for me to spot them.
Catalina’s already waving both her arms. “Laylaaaa!” she screeches, drawing half the bar’s attention. Carter winces at the volume, but his mouth curves as he pulls her against him, pebbling kisses on her cheek.
I squeal right back, darting straight to Amelia first. She’s perched at a table with Maverick practically glued to her side, his hand spread wide across her very pregnant belly.
“Oh. My. God,” I gush, crouching slightly to press both palms to Amelia’s stomach without asking, because boundaries don’t exist in our friend group. “Look at this bump! You’re glowing, babe.”
Amelia arches a brow, grumpy as ever. “It’s sweat. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.” She jerks her chin toward Maverick.
“Excuse you,” Maverick cuts in, his blue eyes twinkling as he tightens his arm around her shoulders. “She glows because of me, don’t you, baby?”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Amelia mutters, but she doesn’t move his hand.
I laugh loudly, wrapping her in a careful hug, mindful of her belly. Once I let her go, I fling myself at Catalina, who shrieks and nearly topples backward before Carter steadies her with one big hand.
“You’re here bitch!” she cries into my hair. “Oh my God, we have so much to do, so much to talk about?—”
“Obviously,” I tease, squeezing her tight before turning to hug Carter, who pats my back.
“Good to see you, Layla,” he rumbles.
“And you,” I chirp, then move on to Maverick, who engulfs me in a bear hug before I can dodge. “Maverick,” I laugh against his chest, “don’t crush me, please.”
He sets me down with a grin, and just like that, the chaos settles into warmth. My girls are on either side of me, and the boys are steady anchors in the background. For a moment, it feels like I belong here, like I always have.
My gaze flicks back to the bar.
Reed’s still behind the counter, rag limp in his hand, his steady eyes locked on me.
My throat goes dry, and I force my legs forward, each step heavier than the last, until I’m standing at the bar.
“Hi, Reed,” I say softly, my smile wobbling just a little.
The string between us hums, pulling tight enough that I swear I can feel it thrumming under my skin.
For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move, nor does he blink, as he stands there with that rag limp in his hand, his eyes locked on mine like he’s searching for something I don’t even know if I have to give.
Up close, he’s even more intimidating. The glasses accentuate his green eyes, giving me a small glimpse of blue threaded within. His beard is neatly trimmed, but there’s a ruggedness about him, something unrefined—like he doesn’t bother to smooth out the rough edges.
Don’t even get me started on his mustache, talk about hot.
The flannel he wears with the sleeves rolled down to his wrists conceals most of him, but I catch faint glimpses of scar tissue when he turns to grab something or when his collar gapes. A shadow of ink curves along it, a rose, disfigured from his scars.
My heart stutters so hard I swear it skips.
I grip the bar top, grounding myself in the cool wood beneath my palms because he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the room. And I don’t know what to do with that.
“Hey,” he finally says, his voice low, rough around the edges.
One word, just one, yet it hits me like a stone dropped into water, rippling outward until I feel it everywhere.
I force a laugh, overly bright, because if I don’t, I’ll burst under the weight of his gaze. “What, no hug for me? Catalina nearly tackled me, and Maverick lifted me off the ground. You’re slacking, Reed.”
A flicker. The corner of his mouth twitches, as if he wants to smile but has forgotten how.
