Chapter 115: Madeline
I look up when Liam crouches in front of me, his shadow cutting across my towel. He’s grinning like an child, holding out a piece of watermelon like he’s offering treasure.
“For you, bookworm.”
I beam at him anyway, taking it carefully. “Thank you.”
He winks and moves on, handing pieces to everyone else. The watermelon’s cold and sweet, and the juice runs down my fingers, but I don’t even care. It’s perfect. I close my book, holding it against my knees.
From his towel, Finn squints at me between bites. “Wait, that’s not the same book you were reading yesterday.”
I blink. “You know, Finn, the whole point is that when you finish a book, you start a new one.”
He sits up. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a green one last week? And yesterday it was pink.”
Liam’s now chewing noisily beside him. “And today it’s blue.”
I shrug, trying not to smile. “I’m a fast reader.”
Finn stares at me like I’ve just said I wrestle sharks for fun. “You read three books in two weeks?”
Another shrug. “Sometimes more.”
Charlie’s lounging beside Sloane, sunglasses on, smirk audible in her voice. “Madeline showed me parts of it. I’d read that too if I liked reading.”
That gets Jake’s attention. His head tilts, eyes glinting. “Oh? What’s it about?”
I freeze, close the book like it’s a state secret, and say, way too fast, “Uhhh… nothing you’d like.”
Reid looks up from his book too, one brow raised, clearly amused. “So, definitely something he’d like.”
I glare at both of them, cheeks heating. “It’s just a book.”
Charlie laughs. “A romance book with nasty, slutty faeries.”
I groan and put my face in my hands as Finn starts howling with laughter, already leaning over to Liam to say something about “plot development, huh?”
Reid’s still looking at me — quiet, unreadable, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.
Jake just grins like he’s filing the information away for later.
I take another bite of watermelon to avoid answering anyone else and mutter, “You’re all the worst.”
Finn jumps to his feet suddenly, clapping his hands together. “Alright, enough of this reading crap. I brought a football—who’s in?”
Sloane sits up, already pulling her hair into a messy bun. “I’m down,” she says, stretching her arms like she’s been waiting for someone to ask.
Charlie raises a finger without opening her eyes. “Absolutely not. I’m one throw away from a nip slip, and that’s not how I wanna be remembered.”
Everyone bursts out laughing, even Sloane.
I shake my head and say, “I’ll pass too. I’ve got to finish this if I want to switch color-coded books again tomorrow.” I wink at Finn over the edge of my book, who groans like he’s personally offended.
To my surprise, both Reid and Jake—who’ve been sitting quietly next to me this whole time—exchange a glance and shrug in perfect unison.
“Sure,” Jake says, stretching his arms out, the motion making every muscle in his back flex and roll.
“Yeah,” Reid adds, pushing himself up from the sand, that same quiet strength in every movement.
And just like that, they’re on their feet, towering, the sunlight cutting sharp shadows across their bodies.
I forget to breathe for a second.
Their muscles move like something alive under their skin—smooth, coiled, precise. There’s this grace to it, the kind that reminds me of panthers right before they strike—power barely restrained.
They start walking toward Finn, Liam and Sloane, casual and effortless, but it feels like the whole beach shifts with them.
Charlie nudges me sharply in the ribs with her elbow, a grin spreading across her face. “Watch this,” she says.
I blink, lowering my book a little. “What?”
She tilts her head toward the guys. “You’re about to witness history. First of all, I don’t think Reid and Jake have ever come to the beach with the team. I don't even know why they agreed. And they definitely haven’t played football with Finn and Liam before.”
I laugh softly. “Why not?”
Charlie’s eyes glint mischievously behind her sunglasses. “Because those two,” she points toward the twins, “are freaks of nature. Finn and Liam have endless energy, sure, but they’re not ready for those two. Just watch.”
Out by the sand, Finn tosses the football toward Reid. “Alright, man, show me what you’ve got.”
Reid nods, dead serious. He weighs the ball in his hand, glancing toward Finn. “You need to go further,” he says flatly.
Finn snorts. “I know, I’ll run to catch it.”
Reid shakes his head once, slow. “Further.”
“I run fast, dude!” Finn laughs, jogging backward a few paces.
Reid just sighs and mutters something under his breath before Jake steps forward, already smirking. “Alright, wait—let me show you what he means, and then we’ll play.”
And then he’s off.
Not jogging. Not running. Sprinting.
Pure muscle, all power and speed—kicking up sand behind him as he tears down the beach.
Reid waits until he’s nearly a speck, then launches the ball.
It’s… ridiculous. The football arcs through the air like a missile, impossibly high and far, and somehow—somehow—Jake catches it perfectly, turning mid-sprint and cradling it against his chest just before he would’ve lost it to the horizon.
He’s so far down the beach that he looks like a postcard.
Liam throws both hands up. “HOW do you throw that far?!”
And Finn, doubled over and gasping, shouts, “HOW do you run that fast?!”
Jake starts walking back, grinning like he’s just finished a warm-up. “Alright,” he calls out, “now that you know the level, we can play.”
The boys are still losing their minds, talking over each other, but I can’t hear any of it because Reid turns toward me.
And winks.
It’s quick, easy, but my whole body forgets how to function for a second. Heat pools at my core, my mouth is open, my heart somewhere in my throat.
I snap my book shut and look away, blushing so hard my ears burn.
When I finally manage to glance at Charlie, she’s watching Reid too—with a soft, proud little smile that makes something twist painfully in my chest.
Oh.
Right.
Idiot.
That wink wasn’t for me.
It was for her.