Chapter 140: Madeline
An hour later, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Charlie’s car, watching the trees blur past as we drive toward the other SWMRI house.
It’s quiet — too quiet. Charlie hums along to some song on the radio, but I can tell she feels it too. The tension. The mess waiting for us.
Because, really, how the hell are we supposed to get any work done after last night?
Sure, Finn and I are okay now. We hugged it out, said what needed to be said, and things feel… lighter between us. Liam and Charlie are fine too — they weren’t really part of the drama anyway. But Sloane? Sloane hates me.
Like, visibly hates me. And, judging by last night, she hates Finn too. Which makes everything ten times worse.
And then there’s Reid.
I grip my phone tighter in my lap just thinking about him.
The memory of his voice, low and dark, still plays in my head like it’s on a loop: “I can’t stop wanting you.”
The weight of his body against mine, the taste of him, the way he said let me touch you like it was both a warning and a prayer—
Yeah. That happened.
And then there’s Jake.
Who has no idea what happened between me and Reid.
Who bought me a drink last night, defended me, touched my waist like he couldn’t help himself.
And who I now have to face, knowing that I kissed his twin against a wall like I was made for it.
So yeah.
It’s going to be a shitshow.
I can already picture it — Sloane glaring daggers at me the entire day, Finn walking on eggshells, Reid pretending to be composed when I can feel the tension radiating off him, and Jake... well. Jake, who I still have to talk to.
I stare out the window, heart thudding.
Part of me wants to turn around, crawl back into bed, and pretend none of this ever happened.
But another part — the one that still feels the ghost of Reid’s hands on me, that still remembers the way Jake looked at me across the bar — that part knows something’s about to shift.
And I’m not sure I’m ready for it.
They’d sent a message to Charlie this morning — to meet at the SWMRI house and bring their stuff for work.
Now, standing in front of the door, I’m not sure anyone is ready for this.
We file out of the car one by one, slow, hesitant, like soldiers walking into enemy territory. Liam and Sloane take the lead. I hang back with Finn and Charlie, who’s still humming some upbeat tune like this isn’t about to be a full-blown tension convention.
Liam presses the doorbell.
Finn exhales next to me, rubbing a hand over his face. “You think they have a dungeon or a secret cell in there? You know—where they plan to torture and murder me quietly?”
I can’t help it. I giggle. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll get a pass or two as punishment.”
Charlie gasps dramatically. “Oh! Me too, me too, please.”
Finn groans. “You’re not helping.”
Which only makes us laugh harder — right as the door opens.
Jake stands there, one brow raised, dark eyes flicking over the three of us like he already knows we were making jokes about him. My smile dies instantly. Charlie bites her lip. Finn straightens up like he’s been caught cheating on a test.
Jake steps aside. “Come in.”
Everyone shuffles inside one by one, the air instantly thickening. I’m last. I murmur a small, “Hi,” as I step through the doorway.
Jake leans down slightly, close enough that his breath brushes the side of my neck. “Hi,” he says quietly — deep, smooth, and just for me — before his hand grazes the small of my back, a light touch that shoots straight through me. Then he’s gone, walking past everyone into the dining room like nothing happened.
My heart? Still sprinting.
We all gather there — the living room and dining space suddenly feeling way too small for this many people and this much unresolved tension. Everyone kind of hovers awkwardly between the couch and the table like no one knows if this is a meeting, an intervention, or an execution.
Except for Charlie, of course.
She strides straight for the table, sees the trays of pastries, and grins. “Yummm, breakfast!” she announces like this is the most casual morning ever.
I can’t help smiling. The twins, though, both shake their heads, identical and unimpressed.
“Take a seat,” Jake says finally, voice cutting through the awkward silence.
So we do.
And just like that, the seating arrangement seals the tension in place — Jake, Sloane, and Liam on one side; Reid, me, and Finn on the other. Charlie sits at the end of the table, chewing on a croissant like she’s front row at a play.
The air hums.
Nobody says a word.
Jake’s voice cuts through the quiet. “We got breakfast for everyone,” he says, nodding toward the trays on the table. Then he jerks a thumb toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee over there too. Once everyone’s eaten, we’ll get to work.”
A simple, steady tone — all business. But the air’s still thick, no one quite ready to reach for food first.
Charlie, naturally, breaks the silence with a bright, “Perfect! I call the chocolate croissant,” and grabs one without hesitation.
The rest of us follow, slower, quieter, pretending like this is just another normal morning when it’s very obviously not.
The tension in the room is thick enough to taste. No one’s really talking, just the quiet scrape of cutlery and the hum of the coffee machine.
I pick at the edge of my napkin, pulse thudding in my throat, unsure what’s about to happen — if we’re going to pretend last night never happened or if everything’s about to explode.
And then, under the table, Reid’s hand finds my thigh.
A single, firm squeeze.
It’s brief, but grounding — enough to make my breath hitch and my shoulders drop half an inch.
I don’t look at him. I can’t.
But the message is clear, even without words.
You’re fine. I’ve got you.