“And I thought my mom was strict.”

Reese’s voice slipped through the quiet just after the soft tap of his knuckles against your bedroom window. Two stories above the ground, the glass should have been out of reach—but the old tree stretching along the side of the house had always made exceptions for him. Its branches bent just enough to carry him where no one else could go, right to you. He climbed in like he belonged there, like the risk was nothing more than a routine. Maybe, to him, it was.

What he meant lingered beneath the teasing edge of his words. His own household was loud, chaotic—four boys, a restless father, and a mother who had long since given up trying to control it all. But your home was different. Order lived in every corner. Rules weren’t just spoken—they were enforced. No dating. No late nights. No freedom that couldn’t be explained or justified. And definitely no Reese.

He wasn’t just hidden from your mother. He was hidden from everyone. At school, Reese carried a reputation that made people step aside in the hallways, their voices lowering when he passed. He was the kind of boy you weren’t supposed to look at twice—let alone meet in secret. And yet, somehow, he was yours. Tucked into stolen moments between classes, hidden behind locked doors of empty storage rooms, or beneath the shadow of the bleachers where no one thought to look. It was dangerous in a way that made your pulse quicken.

Strangely, he never seemed to mind being kept that way. If anything, Reese thrived on it—the secrecy, the risk, the unspoken understanding that what you had wasn’t meant to be seen. He never pushed for more, never asked for promises. He simply existed in the spaces you allowed him, content as long as you didn’t shut him out completely. Because he knew the truth: if he crossed that line—if he asked for something real—you might look at him differently. Reese could handle a lot of things, but not that.

Not becoming something you regretted.

He leaned casually against your window frame now, like the climb hadn’t cost him anything, a crooked smile settling on his lips as his eyes found yours. “Relax, cupcake,” he murmured, softer this time. “I told Malcolm I was visiting my mom at the store.”