~Fallon~
I was curled up on the couch—knees tucked beneath me, blanket high around my chin, laptop abandoned beside me—when I heard the front door open.
Not a knock. Not a doorbell. Just the familiar groan of well-oiled hinges and the sound of deliberate, confident footsteps crossing into my quiet.
Only one person walked into this house like he still had a right to.
Reid.
I didn’t lift my head right away. Part of me wanted to pretend I hadn’t heard him. That I was asleep or indifferent or frozen in one of the many walls I’d built since the day I walked out of this house with nothing but my suitcase and my pride.
But pretending didn’t work with Reid anymore.
He stepped into the living room holding a small paper bag, shoulders squared, dressed down in that black hoodie I used to steal when we still slept in the same bed. The sight of it made something old ache behind my ribs.
He paused when he saw me. His expression softened instantly. That subtle shift I knew so well. His mask fell, ju
