Page 138 of Hide From Me
His voice cracks a little, and I look at him—really look at him—for the first time in a while.
He keeps going. “What I didn’t see then was how much you were protecting me too. You absorbed pressure so I wouldn’t feel it. You took on shit without ever complaining. You stepped up when I couldn’t. You’ve been protectingmethis whole damn time. And I never said thank you.”
It hits harder than I expect.
Like something cracked open that I didn’t know was still bleeding. Maybe it always has been. Maybe I just got used to walking around with the wound.
I nod once, because I can’t speak. Not yet. And he gets it. Of course he does.
“So thank you,” Caspian says, his voice dipping rough at the edges. He glances away like it’ll help him get the rest out clean.
“And I love you.” The words land clumsy, like they don’t quite fit in his mouth—but they’re true. I can feel it in the silence that follows. “You’re my brother. And I mean it.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat thick and sharp, like it’s caught on something old. Something tender. “I love you too, man.”
He nods once. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to saythat’s all either of us can take right nowwithout either of us having to admit it out loud. Then he turns and disappears into the sea of movement on the dance floor, pulled back to Cordelia like gravity. Like a man returning home to the only place he’s ever felt safe.
I watch him for a moment longer than I mean to. Let the weight of his words settle into my chest like a stone warmed by sunlight. And then I turn.
Raylen's standing near the edge of the dance floor, just outside the halo of light cast by the fairy strings overhead. Alone. Still. Her fingers loop loosely around the stem of a champagne flute she hasn’t even touched, the bubbles long since faded to flat gold. Her gaze lifts—and lands right on mine and just like that, everything else fades.
Hope ignites in my chest too fast. Too bright. It rises like a flare shot across a battlefield, reckless and loud and completely impossible to ignore. I take a single step toward her—she steps back.
My stomach knots.
No,fucks itselfinto a coil of panic so tight I swear I might throw up. It’s the same sick, hollow sensation I felt the night I let her go. Like the ground’s cracking beneath me and I’m about to fall through. She’s moving like she’s going to bolt—like the kiss, the messages, the dress that matches mine, none of it meant anything. Like I dreamed it all and now she’s waking me up.
My brows furrow, squinting to make sure I’m seeing her correctly, because even though everything is shattering around me, I can almost swear she's… smiling?
Not soft. Not sweet. Not even careful.
She grins like a goddamnproblem.
It’s all teeth and trouble, the kind of smile that promises chaos and bruises and laughter so hard it leaves your ribs aching. It’s the Raylen I’ve always known—the one who sets fire to expectations and dares the world to call her reckless. My heart stumbles in my chest, then takes off sprinting.
Before I can process what’s happening, she turns—and climbs onto the nearest table.
I blink, frozen, confused as hell. Is she…?Is she serious?
Music kicks up again. Something fast. Loud. Throbbing bass that rattles the glassware and pulls attention like a magnet.
And then shestarts to move.
Not like a dancer trained to impress. Not like someone trying to be sexy or graceful. She moves like Raylen—shoulders swaying, hips rocking, arms lifting over her head with zero shame, like she’s daring someone to stop her. She’s laughing already, even as the beat pulses louder around her. Hair falling into her face. Eyes wild and locked on mine likethis—this moment—is for me.
And I realize what she’s doing.
It’s the same thing I did. Months ago. In that stupid diner, standing on top of a counter like a lunatic just to make her smile through the storm she was stuck in. I danced like an idiot. Just for her. And now…
She’s dancing for me.
The air leaves my lungs like I’ve been punched in the chest—but in the best way. In theholy shit I think my heart just remembered how to beatway.
The song fades out with a final thump. Her laughter bursts through the quiet like a firework—bright and breathless and alive. Then she hops down from the table, heels wobbling beneath her.
I move without thinking, instinct taking over.
My hands catch her by the waist, fingers curling against the curve of her dress as I steady her, grounding her like she’s the one about to fall. She laughs again, softer now. A little dizzy.
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