Chapter 147: Madeline

Chapter 147: Madeline
I don’t move at first.
I just stand there, between them — between Reid and Jake — while my mind does a poor imitation of working. My thoughts are scrambled eggs. No, worse — they’re fog and lightning at once, colliding somewhere behind my ribs.

What just happened?
What is happening?

The two most breathtaking men I’ve ever laid eyes on — men who are brilliant and commanding, who fix boats with their hands and read research reports with the same intensity — want me.

They want me.

It feels unreal. The air still hums between us, that lingering charge of lips and touches and words I don’t know if I imagined. Reid’s hand had been so steady on my waist; Jake’s voice had dropped so low it felt like a current through my skin.
And now they’re both looking at me — steady, sure — like this isn’t madness, like they both knew this was coming long before I did.

I don’t know what to think.
Is this real?
Will they regret it?

But under all that confusion, all that frantic thinking, there’s something else rising in me — something unfiltered and raw.

Happiness.

The kind that swells from somewhere deep and impossible to name. Because I’d been fighting these feelings for so long — this pull toward both of them, for different reasons. Jake with his rough hands and quiet steadiness, Reid with that sharp mind and sharp mouth that somehow see right through me. I’d felt wrong for it. Like I was betraying one by wanting the other.

And now… now they’ve taken that guilt and turned it into something else entirely. Something like relief.

Unconventional, Jake called it.
That’s an understatement.

This doesn’t happen. Not outside of stories. Not outside of the kind of books I sometimes keep tucked under my bed — the ones I've only ever read in secret, where two men are drawn to the same woman and she doesn’t have to choose.

And now I'm standing in the middle of that fantasy.
And it’s real.

Pure joy hums in my chest. Joy, and yes — heat, a dizzying pulse of lust that won’t quite fade.

They both smile down at me, that twin mirror expression of quiet satisfaction.
Jake’s hand brushes over my shoulder. Reid leans forward, presses a slow kiss to the top of my head, and I feel it like a promise.

Then Reid’s voice, smooth and grounding, breaks through the haze.
“You need a ride?”

I blink up at him, then shake my head quickly. “No, it’s still daytime. I know the way by now.”

They exchange a glance — that silent twin language I'm starting to recognize — then both nod.

Jake says, “Call if there’s anything.”

“I will,” I promise, smiling so hard it almost hurts. “See you tomorrow on the boat!”

They both grin at that — slow, easy, knowing — and I feel my heartbeat in places I didn’t know it could reach.
Then I turn and walk away, my skin still burning where they touched me, wondering if I’ll ever be the same again.

By the time I step out of the twins’ house, the air feels different — thinner, cooler, charged. Like my body hasn’t caught up with what just happened inside.

There are so many questions I’ll have to ask them — about what this means, about what they want, about what I want. But right now, there's something I need to do.

Instead of heading straight home, I turn toward Dock Square Coffee.

The place is quiet, half-empty in the late afternoon light. The girl behind the counter smiles at me like she already knows my order, and I ask for the most ridiculous drink on the menu — an extra-large caramel frappuccino, extra whip, extra drizzle, enough sugar to knock out an elephant.

It’s not for me.

When I finally get back to the house, I can hear the faint hum of the fridge, the ticking of the old clock by the stairs. It feels weirdly peaceful. I step inside, holding the frappuccino like a little gift, and find Charlie curled up on the couch in a hoodie two sizes too big.

Her face lights up when she sees the cup. “Oh my God, what’s this?”

I grin and hand it to her. “For you.”

She takes it, smiling like it’s a diamond, then squints at me. “Okay, what did I do to deserve this?”

I don’t answer right away. I just sit beside her and wrap my arms around her shoulders, squeezing tight.

“It’s for standing up for me,” I say quietly, “and for not telling anyone about…”

I trail off, glancing toward the hallway.

Charlie follows my eyes and lowers her voice. “Don’t worry. Finn and Liam are still dead asleep.”

I nod, relieved, and we settle against the couch. She takes a long sip through the straw, eyes closing like she’s tasting heaven.

After a moment, she says softly, “You know, I really think you should tell everyone. It would be off your chest. You’d feel lighter.”

I stare at my hands for a long moment before I answer. “I’ve thought about it,” I admit. “But… if I talk about him too much, it’s like bringing him here. Like letting that memory follow me.”

Charlie frowns, listening carefully.

“I don’t want that,” I whisper. “I don’t want him anywhere near Northhaven. And I don’t want anyone to look him up, or say something that could lead him here. I just—” I take a breath. “I just want to move on. From all of it. From the fear, from the pain. And the best way I can do that is to not think about him. Not say his name. Not give him anything else to take from me.”

Charlie reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Then we won’t. We’ll keep it between us.”

I nod, eyes stinging, but it’s not sadness this time. It’s relief. Relief in so, so many ways.