Chapter 128: Madeline
After a while, the night settles into a rhythm of chaos and laughter. The Seafoam feels smaller now, filled to the brim with people. Every corner of the bar is alive with something — a poker game going on near the back, loud shouts of “no way!” every time someone loses big; a group trying to outdrink each other near the bar, half their shots already spilled; the air thick with the hum of too many conversations, too much joy.
Reid and Jake are still surrounded by the same group of guys — friends from before, probably, all of them built the same way, with easy confidence and a few too many beers in hand. Reid’s laughing at something, head tipped back, while Jake claps one of the guys on the shoulder. They look completely in their element.
I, however, am perfectly fine sitting where I am — pressed against the wall with my drink next to Liam, watching the swirl of motion in front of me.
At least until Charlie appears in front of me, all energy and sunshine. “Dance with me!”
My whole body tenses. “Oh, no. No, no, no. There’s too many people—”
“Too bad,” Liam cuts in, grinning like a devil. “Come on, Quinn.”
Before I can protest, Charlie grabs my hand and tugs me up, and just like that, I’m swept into the middle of the crowd.
The music is loud — something fast and easy, the kind of song that demands movement — and before long, I’m holding Charlie’s hand, jumping, spinning, letting the beat take over. The fairy lights blur above me, laughter everywhere, and against all odds, I’m… smiling.
Actually smiling.
I’d given up this kind of thing a year ago — big crowds, loud music, people brushing past me. Too many strangers. Too many chances for panic to creep in, for memories to bite back. But here in Northhaven, with these people — with her — it feels different.
Safe.
The music shifts into another song, and Charlie twirls me, both of us laughing like idiots, and that’s when Finn joins in. He slides between us, immediately doing some ridiculous dance move that makes Charlie cry-laugh, and I can’t help it — I laugh too, spinning and swaying and bumping shoulders with them.
The floor vibrates beneath us, the music climbs, and I let it.
For the first time in so long, I let myself have fun. I let my hips move, my body follow the rhythm, my laughter spill freely into the air.
For a moment — just a moment — there’s no stalker, no fear, no rules. Just the beat, the warmth, and the people I trust surrounding me.
After what feels like an hour of dancing — spinning, laughing, hair sticking to my neck — I’m breathless and flushed. Charlie and Finn are still jumping around like maniacs, Liam’s trying to drag Sloane to the floor, and I’m officially done.
“I can’t anymore!” I laugh, waving them off. “I need water or I’m gonna die.”
“Lightweight!” Finn yells after me.
“Health-conscious!” I yell back, grinning as I make my way through the crowd.
The bar’s calmer — quieter, at least in comparison. The girl behind the counter smiles and slides me a bottle before I even have to ask. “Here you go, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” I say, twisting the cap and sinking onto one of the high stools. My chest rises and falls fast as I take a long sip, feeling the cool water chase the heat from my body.
That’s when I feel it — that shift in the air that always happens before he shows up.
I look up, and sure enough, Jake’s walking toward me, hands in his pockets, moving with that effortless confidence that makes my pulse stutter. His sleeves are rolled up, his hair slightly messy, and there’s still a faint trace of a smile playing on his lips.
He stops beside me, leaning one arm casually on the bar, his body angled toward mine. “Having fun?”
I nod, still catching my breath. “A lot, actually.”
He reaches out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair off my face, and it’s such a small, simple gesture — but my body reacts like he’s set me on fire.
He tilts his head, eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting mine again. “Since it’s my birthday,” he says, voice low, smooth, “will you have a drink with me?”
I blush immediately. “Sure.”
He sits down next to me, close enough that his knee brushes mine. The contact sends a tiny shock through me, like static. He signals something to the bartender with a nod — something she seems to understand instantly.
“You like it?” I ask, glancing toward the crowd, still half-smiling.
He looks back at me, the corners of his mouth curling. “Yeah. It’s great. Thank you.”
I blink, confused. “Oh, uh, I didn’t do much — this was all Charlie and Sloane, and the guys…”
He shakes his head slowly. “You were the perfect distraction, though.”
The words hit low in my stomach, and I’m pretty sure he can see it in my face.
The bartender sets down two drinks — one amber and neat for him, one pale and colorful for me, garnished with cherries.
I raise my eyebrows. “That looks… dangerous.”
He smirks. “Try it.”
So I do. And oh god. It’s perfect — sweet, light, just the right amount of warmth sliding down my throat. I look at him with wide eyes, and he laughs quietly, shaking his head.
“Knew you’d like it.”
I take another sip to hide my blush. “Okay, fine. It’s amazing.”
“Thought so.”
There’s a pause, the comfortable kind, filled with the hum of voices and the faint echo of the music. Then I ask, “Who were those guys you and Reid were talking to for so long?”
He glances over to where they’re still standing, smiling faintly. “Old friends from university. They work in boat engineering — helped us get SWMRI started a few years back.”
“Wow,” I say softly. “That’s kind of amazing. Do you see them often?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. Maybe once a year, if that. So yeah, I’m glad they’re here.”
I nod, and something about the way his eyes linger on me makes my chest tighten. “You should go back to them then,” I say gently. “I’ll still be here tomorrow.”
His smile deepens, darker this time. “No,” he says quietly. “I was tired of watching you from across the room. This is better.”
My mouth parts before I can help it, but no sound comes out. I can feel the heat crawl up my neck, spreading all the way to my ears.
He looks toward the dance floor, his expression shifting. “I saw what happened earlier,” he says, his tone suddenly heavier. “With Liam and that guy.”
I blink. “Oh.”
He looks back at me, eyes sharp. “Does Liam ever make you uncomfortable?”
The question catches me off guard. “No! No, not at all. He’s just… Liam. He’s nice. He’s a good friend. Kind of like a brother, actually.”
Jake studies me for a second, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes, like he wants to say more — argue, maybe — but before he can, a woman steps right between us.
She’s tall, stunning — long black hair, perfect makeup, legs that go on forever in heels. She leans in, all perfume and confidence, and purrs, “Hey, Jake. Remember me?”
He doesn’t even blink. “Hey,” he says, deadpan.
She laughs softly and puts a hand on his arm — then slides it down to his bicep, then further, fingers resting on his thigh. “I could give you a birthday present later, if you want.”
My stomach twists.
Jake doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Then, calmly, he says, “The only birthday present I want is for you to move—” his gaze flicks to me, steady, “—so I can keep talking to her.”
I freeze.
She blinks, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
Jake just smiles faintly, all quiet confidence and command. “You heard me.”
For a beat, the woman just stares at him. Then she huffs, rolls her eyes, and stalks off, heels clicking hard against the floor.
I’m left sitting there, stunned — heart pounding, face burning, mind spinning.
He turns back to me like nothing happened, takes a sip of his drink, and says with a slow, dangerous grin—
“Now, where were we?”