Page 56 of Endo
REIGN
Don’t worry babe - Ex Habit
I waketo the faint weight of Lena curled up beside me. Her head is resting on the edge of my pillow, her hair a chaotic mess spilling over the silky blue sheets my mom got me when I moved into this place. She’s still dead asleep, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other stretched toward me. The sunlight slipping through the blinds hits her just right, softening everything. For a second, it’s almost peaceful. Almost.
Then the memories of last night hit me like a freight train, and any semblance of peace vanishes.
I run a hand over my face and sit up, careful not to jostle the bed and wake her up. My body’s heavy, stiff like I’ve been carrying something I can’t put down. My eyes flick to Lena again, her breathing slow and even. She looks beautiful and so goddamn calm, like there isn’t a storm waiting to break the moment, she opens those pretty blue eyes of hers.
I climb out of bed, and stretch before heading for the kitchen. Coffee. I need some fucking caffeine in my system before I even try to think about what the hell comes next.
The apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge and the creak of the floor under my feet. I grab the coffee grounds from the cabinet and start the machine. As it sputters to life, filling the air with the smell of coffee and sanity, I lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching the slow drip of coffee as if it holds the answers to all the shit swirling in my head.
But it doesn’t.
Because no amount of caffeine’s going to untangle what happened last night.
Lena.
Fuck.
It all comes rushing back—the heat of her skin, the way she gasped my name, the way everything else just disappeared when I was with her. For the first time in a long time, something feltright. Like I wasn’t just going through the motions anymore.
But now? Now I feel like I’m standing in the wreckage of something I don’t even fucking understand.
I care about her. Hell, I’ve cared about her for years, even when I wasn’t supposed to. Even when she was…
Cruz.
The thought of him crashes into me, hard and heavy. It’s like he’s standing in the room, staring me down with that easy grin of his, the one that always came right before he called me out on my shit.
And now I’m the one who’s crossed the line.
I can’t stop thinking about him—his laugh, the way he looked at Lena, the way hetrustedme. And here I am, stepping into the space he left behind, like some kind of thief.
The coffee machine beeps, and I snap out of it, grabbing the pot and pouring a mug. The steam curls up, warm and comforting, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.
There’s no denying we have something between us. But this? What we did? It’s like standing on a fault line, waiting for the ground to split open beneath me.
The worst part is, I don’t regret it.
Not a single fucking second.
I take a long sip of coffee, letting the bitterness ground me. Last night felt right, but it’s hard to hold on to that when I think about Cruz. About what he’d say if he were here.
Would he hate me for this? For wanting her the way I do?
Or would he have seen this coming?
The sound of my phone buzzing on the counter pulls me out of my head. I glance at the screen—Andre.
Andre: You coming by the pits today? I know you’re not ready to race, but I’m sure the team would still like having you here, cheering them on, if you’re up for it of course.
I stare at the text, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling that familiar knot of unease settle between my shoulders. He’s not wrong. I should go. Show my face, support the team. But the words “you’re not ready to race” hit harder than I want to admit.
The truth is, I don’t know if I’lleverbe ready again.
I drop the phone on the counter and turn to the coffee pot, pouring another mug full. The smell’s enough to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts for a second, but not long enough to erase the weight sitting heavy on my chest.
