This is insane. I’m lying here like some lovesick teenager, replaying every second of a ten-minute conversation in a closet. But I can’t help it. She finally admitted she’s falling for me. Instead of making things easier, it’s made everything a thousand times more complicated.
Because now I know she feels it, too. This pull between us that’s been driving me crazy for weeks. It’s not just me imagining things or projecting my own feelings onto her. She’s scared, yeah, but she wants this as much as I do.
That terrifies me.
I sit up and scrub my hands over my face. My room feels too small, too hot, too quiet. I need to move, do something other than lie here obsessing over every word she said, every touch we shared.
I sit on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, staring at the same text for five minutes before finally sending it.
I think I’m catching feelings for someone.
Ellie doesn’t even hesitate.
Oh, so we’re being sneaky now? Duh. You have feelings for Wren.
I run a hand through my hair and reply.
Yes. She makes me insane.
Yeah, but she also makes you shut up and listen. That’s rare for you.
She makes me want to be a better version of myself. Even when I don’t know how.
Then maybe you’re finally in the right story.
Maybe. What are you doing up so late, early bird?
I’m hanging out with a sick dog at the clinic. It’s touch and go. Speaking of… I should get back to her. But good luck with your Wren situation.
Thanks.
My mind wanders back to Wren. I grab my phone and check the time. It’s almost 3 a.m. Everyone should be asleep by now. The cameras in the common areas shut down at midnight according to the production schedule I memorized week one. If I’m careful, I could probably sneak down to the kitchen for some water without anyone noticing.
I pull on a T-shirt and ease my door open. The hallway is dark except for the dim emergency lighting they left on after the power incident. I can hear someone snoring through one of the doors. Probably JacqLyn. That girl could wake the dead.
I pad barefoot down the hall, avoiding the spots where the floor creaks. Years of sneaking around my aunt’s house as a teenager taught me how to move silently. Some skills you never lose.
The kitchen is empty and peaceful. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and lean against the counter, letting the cool air wash over my face. The silence is a relief after the chaos of earlier.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. My head jerks toward the hallway, expecting someone to catch us. Nothing. Just my pulsepounding in my ears. Wren is sitting at the breakfast bar in the dark corner of the kitchen, curled up in an oversized hoodie with her knees pulled to her chest. I didn’t even see her when I walked in.
“Jesus, Chirp. You scared the hell out of me.”
She smiles, and even in the dim light I can see it reach her eyes. “Sorry. I’ve been sitting here for like an hour. Figured you’d show up eventually.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re predictable. When you can’t sleep, you eat. When you’re stressed, you eat. When you’re thinking too hard, you eat.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I came down for water.”
“Uh-huh. Check the pantry. I bet you were planning to grab some of those granola bars you’ve been hoarding.”
Damn. She’s not wrong. I was absolutely going to grab a granola bar after the water. Maybe two.
“How do you know about my granola bars?”