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That's when I realize I've lost this fight. Completely.
CHAPTER 19
Hailey
Breakfast is torture.
The tension around the table could be cut with a knife. It's our fault—all of us—but mostly mine. Reed sits in brooding silence, Dean won't even glance at me, and Lennon casts quiet, watchful looks that seem to say I told you so.
I attempt a half-hearted comment about the weather, but it dies on my lips. No one replies. I focus on my steak and eggs, but each bite feels like chewing regret.
Does Reed know? Can he see it written across my face—the guilt, the shame, the memory of Dean's mouth on me? I glance at him and nearly choke on my orange juice.
Jesus. What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking, that's the truth. When I let Dean slide my jeans down and press me onto his desk, I wasn't thinking about consequences. Just like I hadn't been thinking when I let Reed kiss me. Both of them light me up in different ways—Dean's forceful certainty, Reed's teasing charm. And then there's Lennon: unreadable, intense. Watching. Waiting.
I'd had a dream last night—too vivid to shake.
I was in the stables, arms full of fresh hay, when Lennon appeared, silent and still. He watched me until I approachedhim and asked what he wanted. Without a word, he lifted me, effortless and gentle—reverent, even—and laid me down on a pile of hay. I didn't even notice my clothes were gone until I felt the weight of his body above mine, shielding me like armor. He kissed my face—forehead, eyelids, lips—soft at first, then deeper. I moaned and shifted onto my side... into Reed. He was already there, naked, playful. He kissed my neck, my shoulders, my spine.
Then Dean appeared, his hands sliding around me, lifting me like an offering, his mouth at my ear. I gasped as he lowered me onto him, and the entire world narrowed to that moment—sensation, sound, surrender—until I came, hard, shaking.
I woke up alone. Sweaty. My injured thigh aching. Breathing like I'd run five miles.
So yes—breakfast is awkward.
Reed catches my eye and gives a faint smile, but it doesn't reach his bruised eye. I try to return it, but mine falls equally flat. Whatever we had, it now feels broken. Whatever was building with Dean feels even worse—like a bridge, burned before it was fully built.
A whimper draws my attention to Grace, frowning at her breakfast from Lennon's lap.
"Come on, honey," Lennon coaxes, offering a forkful of egg. "A couple more bites."
"No!" she yells, squirming. "I hate eggs!"
"I know, but they're good for you," he says wearily. She turns her head away, stubborn resistance written on every line of her face.
"What about sausages?" he tries. "You like sausages."
She shakes her head, lips pressed tight, tears welling. Lennon looks totally lost.
I lean closer. "Hey, Grace? Do you like cupcakes?"
She pauses. Nods.
"If you eat a few bites of your eggs now, I'll bake cupcakes with you later. Cookies too. Something extra special."
Her eyes brighten. "Frosted lollies too?"
Whatever that is, I nod. "Alright."
She eyes the eggs warily, then opens her mouth. Lennon feeds her, throwing me a grateful look. I wink in reply.
After three more bites, she's done. Lennon takes her to get ready for pre-school, and I start clearing dishes—still avoiding Dean and Reed's gazes—until a sharp knock on the front door breaks the silence.
"I'll get it," I say, stepping toward the door.
Dean intercepts me with a shake of his head. Reed rises and walks over instead.
He opens the door to reveal the sheriff, looking smug. "Ah, Reed. Just the guy I'm looking for. You're under arrest. Soliciting a minor. Assault with a deadly weapon."