Page 12 of Rampage

"Any vices I should know about?" he asks.

I think for a moment. "I steal the burned ends of brownies at the bakery."

His laugh is sudden and genuine, transforming his face. "Dangerous criminal."

"Mrs. Winters pretends not to notice," I add, smiling. "I think she does it on purpose now."

Our food arrives—fresh fish for him, pasta for me—and conversation flows easier than I expected. Reid tells me about growing up with the club, his dad who adopted him when he was a tiny baby, and his mom coming in shortly after.

It makes me sad that I never got to experience that sort of love from parents, but I’m beyond happy for him that he got to have that.

As we talk, the sun sinks lower, casting long shadows across the deck. Fairy lights strung along the railing begin to twinkle, reflecting in the dark water below.

A comfortable silence falls between us as we finish our meal. The evening air has cooled, carrying the scent of pine and lake water. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling a slight chill.

"Cold?" Reid asks, already shrugging out of his leather jacket. Before I can protest, he drapes it over my shoulders. It's heavy and warm, enveloping me in his scent.

"Thanks," I say, pulling it closer. "It's getting late. We should probably head back."

Reid nods but makes no move to leave. His eyes study my face in the soft glow of the fairy lights. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on the question," I reply cautiously.

"The wedding… what are you really afraid of?"

The directness shocks me. I look out over the dark water, gathering my thoughts.

"My foster father," I finally admit. "He's… connected in town. Friends with cops. I'm worried he'll try something."

Reid's expression hardens. "Has he contacted you since you left?"

"Texts. Threats, mostly. Some begging." I shiver, and not from the cold. "The last one was months ago, but…"

"But you're still afraid," he finishes.

I nod, unable to meet his eyes. Admitting fear feels like a weakness, and weakness is dangerous.

Reid reaches across the table, his hand covering mine. His touch is warm, steady. "Lily, look at me."

I raise my eyes to his.

"If you're ever scared or need someone, I'm one call away, no matter what," he tells me, his voice low and intense. "I'll protect you from whatever you're afraid of back in your hometown. You don't have to face this alone."

The sincerity in his eyes makes my throat tighten. "Why would you do that for me?"

"Because someone did it for me when I needed it," he says. "And because… I care about you. More than I probably should after one coffee date."

A small laugh escapes me, breaking the tension. "Is that what this is? A date?"

His smile returns, softer now. "Fuck yeah it is.”

It thrills me, his confidence. I want to give in and just say yes, this is a date, but admitting to it makes it too real.

And I’m scared of change.

I’ve had change constantly my whole life, but I do like him and probably more than I should.

The weight of his jacket around my shoulders feels like a shield, like a layer of protection I haven't known in years. The offer of help, of not facing my fears alone, is almost too much to process.