Chapter 132: Reid
The second the door slams behind her, it’s like something snaps.
The hesitation, the shock—it all burns off in an instant.
I shove off the wall and bolt out of the washroom, the hallway blurring as I shoulder through it. The second I hit the main room, the noise hits me like a wall—music, laughter, chaos—but I don’t care. I’m scanning every face, every flash of movement, until I see her.
Madeline.
She’s small, but I can spot her anywhere—her hair, her shoulders, the way she moves like she’s trying not to cry in public. She’s pushing through the crowd fast, weaving between people toward the exit.
“Madeline!” I shout.
She doesn’t even turn.
I push past a group of people, someone curses behind me, but I don’t stop. Somewhere in the noise I can hear Sloane’s voice—sharp, furious, cutting into Finn—and Charlie and Liam trying to calm her down, trying to understand what happened. But I don’t give a damn. Not one single damn.
Let them figure it out. Let the whole bar explode for all I care.
I just need to talk to her.
I burst through the front door and out into the night. The air’s cold, damp, full of salt. The music dulls behind me, replaced by the quiet hiss of the sea. My chest is heaving, breath fogging in the air as my eyes dart around.
And then I see her.
Down the street, near the rock wall, heading straight for the ocean.
“Madeline!” I yell again, running after her. “Stop!”
But she doesn’t.
She keeps going, her hair flying in the wind, her dress whipping around her thighs, sneakers hitting the ground hard as she runs. Every instinct in me screams to grab her, to turn her around, to make her see me—but I stop myself. She’s terrified enough. The last thing I want is to make her feel cornered.
So I slow down. My boots hit the rock path, the sound muffled under the crash of waves. My voice comes out lower this time, rough, careful.
“Madeline,” I say. “Just… talk to me, alright? Please.”
She slows.
And then she stops.
When she turns around, the sight guts me.
Her face is streaked with tears, her shoulders trembling, her breathing ragged. She looks… shattered. Angry and broken all at once. Her eyes are glassy, glowing under the dim light from the bar sign behind me.
And God, it hurts.
I’ve seen Madeline happy, curious, stubborn, even scared—but never like this. Never this combination of pain and fury aimed right at me.
I stop a few feet away from her, chest still rising and falling, and for a moment I can’t find my voice.
Because I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life, but whatever I did to put that look on her face…
That’s the one that might actually kill me.
“You want to talk?” she yells, her voice breaking, wild and raw against the sound of the waves. “Alright, let’s talk!”
Her hands are trembling, tears streaking down her face, but she doesn’t stop—she doesn’t even blink.
“Let’s talk about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!” she cries, her voice echoing off the water. “The funniest and brightest person in Northhaven! Let’s talk about your girlfriend, Reid! The woman who has no idea you’re with me doing… doing—”
Her voice cracks, a sob shattering her words. “I don’t even know what you’re doing!”
I don’t move. I just watch her, my throat tight, my pulse pounding so hard it hurts.
“All I know,” she continues, “is that a few days or weeks ago I started—” She presses a hand to her chest, like it’s the only thing holding her together. “I started seeing you differently! And every time you give me these mixed signals, I think maybe, maybe you feel it too—but then I remember Charlie!”
Her voice breaks on the name. She’s crying and screaming and shaking, and every word she says carves a deeper line in my chest.
I take a step forward.
She flinches, but I keep walking. Another step. And another. Until I’m right in front of her—so close that her trembling breath brushes my throat when she looks up.
Her eyes are wild, bright green even in the dark, shining with tears and confusion and so much pain it damn near undoes me.
Slowly, I raise my hand. My thumb catches the tear on her cheek before it falls. I wipe another away, then another, until she’s blinking up at me with wet lashes and trembling lips.
“Madeline,” I say, my voice low but steady, “you’re right.”
She freezes, eyes flicking between mine.
“I do love Charlie.”
Her face falls, like I’ve just confirmed every fear she’s been swallowing for weeks.
I let her feel that for one heartbeat—and then I finish.
“But I am not taken.”
Her breath hitches, sharp.
“Charlie,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on hers, “is my cousin.”
She goes still. Completely still.
I can see the words sinking in, see the gears turning in her head as she tries to process them, replaying every memory, every laugh, every shared look she must’ve seen between us—trying to fit them into this new truth.
“Your… cousin?” she whispers.
I nod once, my voice low. “Mine and Jake’s. Our moms are sisters.”
She stares up at me, stunned, her brows knitting together, lips parted in disbelief. I can almost see the shift happen—her mind rearranging everything she thought she knew, every reason she gave herself to stay away from me.
She takes a shaky breath, eyes glinting under the streetlight.
“So…” she says softly, tripping over her words, her voice barely audible over the wind. “So what you feel for me… if you feel something for me…”
Her voice trails off, trembling, unsure, and she looks at me like she’s terrified of what I’ll say next.
I take one step closer—slow, deliberate—and watch her back up until she hits the low stone wall behind her. Again. The sound of the waves fills the silence between us, rolling and crashing like the sea itself is holding its breath.
She’s still looking up at me, eyes wide and glassy, chest rising and falling in uneven, trembling breaths. Her dress moves in the wind, brushing against my legs, and all I can think is how close she is. How fucking close.
“Before I continue,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean for it to be, “let me touch you.”
Her breath catches, her lips part, and for a heartbeat she doesn’t answer. I can see her mind racing, torn between fear and something else—something that looks a hell of a lot like want.
Then she nods.
It’s tiny, but it’s there.
And fuck, I feel it everywhere.