Chapter 80: Madeline
When I walk into the house, the noise hits me first—music, laughter, the sound of cards slapping against the table.
The air smells like popcorn and cheap beer, and for the first time all day, it actually feels… warm.
Charlie’s in the kitchen, hair tied up, dancing to whatever song she’s playing. Finn and Sloane are at the table, mid–card war, Finn laughing so hard he nearly falls off his chair. Liam’s cheering him on between mouthfuls of chips.
I stand there for a second, jacket half off, soaking it in.
Then Finn spots me. “Hey, Quinn! You alive?”
I laugh a little. “Barely.”
Liam grins. “Come join! Winner gets bragging rights and Charlie’s last brownie!”
But the moment my eyes flick toward Sloane, her smile fades just slightly. Not enough for anyone else to notice—but enough for me to feel it.
There’s something in her gaze that always puts me on edge, like I’m an unwelcome guest in her perfectly balanced world.
I have no idea what I did to piss her off.
But tonight doesn’t feel like the night to find out.
I shake my head, forcing a small smile. “No thanks, I think I’ll pass. You guys keep having fun.”
Charlie looks at me like she wants to protest, but I give her a reassuring wave before heading upstairs. I barely make it to my bed before I flop face-first onto it.
God, I’m exhausted.
From the day, from the emotions, from… ending the day with Jake.
Every time I close my eyes, I see him leaning over the table at the diner. Hear his low voice. Feel that moment when he tucked my hair behind my ear.
It’s too much. Too confusing. Too dangerous.
I’m halfway to falling asleep when there’s a soft knock at my door.
“Come in,” I mumble, rolling onto my side.
Charlie pokes her head in, grinning. “You decent?”
“I wish I wasn't.”
She laughs and steps in, shutting the door behind her. “Can I come hang?”
I smile and scoot over to make room. “Always.”
She flops onto the bed beside me, still smelling faintly like citrus and sea salt. For a moment, we’re quiet, both staring at the ceiling.
Then she turns her head toward me. “You happy here?”
I blink and turn too. “Yeah. Of course. Why?”
She shrugs, propping herself up on an elbow. “The twins can be… a lot,” she says, widening her eyes dramatically. “And the job’s demanding. Plus, let’s be honest—our little SWMRI team is basically a social experiment gone wrong. We’ve got workaholics, adrenaline junkies, and Sloane.”
I snort, covering my mouth. “You forgot the comedians.”
She grins. “Oh no, I definitely didn’t. They just think they’re funny.”
I laugh harder, and she nudges my arm.
“It’s been different,” I admit when I can breathe again. “But… I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
She smiles, soft and genuine.
It makes me blurt out, “I’ve never had a friend like you.”
Charlie blinks. “Like me?”
I nod. “Yeah. Someone so… easy to be around. So confident and funny and—well, beautiful.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Stop. You’re gonna make me cry.”
I giggle, and she pulls me into a hug that smells like coconut shampoo and comfort.
“I’m really glad you’re here too,” she says into my hair. “I haven’t had a good girl friend in a while either. It’s been all testosterone and saltwater for too long.”
I pull back, laughing. “Hard to believe. Everyone loves you.”
“Please,” she groans. “Half the people in town are scared of me. The other half I could probably outdrink.”
I grin. “So both kinds are intimidated.”
“Exactly.”
We dissolve into giggles again, the tension from earlier fading away. I want to tell her—about Reid, about that flash of something I felt when he touched me, about how guilty I feel even thinking it.
She deserves to know. She’s been nothing but kind.
But before I can, there’s another knock.
The door cracks open, and Liam sticks his head in, eyes wide. “Hey. Finn and Sloane are… uh… way too into that game. It’s getting scary. Mind if I hide out in here?”
Charlie bursts out laughing. “Oh, come in before they bite!”
He steps inside, holding a bowl of chips like a peace offering, and the three of us spend the next hour or so laughing over dumb stories and bad jokes.
I’m half-asleep on my pillow when the door creaks and Finn slides in, abandoning the war zone downstairs with Sloane. He folds onto the floor beside Liam like they’re nesting puffins, long legs everywhere and zero sense of spatial awareness.
“This room is way too small for four people,” I murmur into the blanket. “Including two six-foot guys.”
“Six-one and a heroic half,” Liam says, dead serious.
Finn snorts. “Buddy, you’re six-one in boots.”
“Please,” Liam counters, tipping his chin. “I’m the statistically perfect height. Engineers designed me.”
“Yeah,” Finn says, “engineers designing doorstops.”
Charlie snickers beside me, equally drowsy. We’re in that silly, warm place where everything’s funnier than it should be.
Charlie’s phone pings. She groans, fishes it off the nightstand, and squints. “Ugh. It’s Reid.”
My stomach tightens like a fist. Cool. Great. Love that for me. If I shut my eyes right now maybe I can fast-track to dreamless oblivion and miss whatever soft, secret smile she sends back.
Charlie blinks, pushes up on her elbows. “He’s asking if the team would be down to have dinner… all together.”
Liam almost inhales a chip. “Dinner? With them? They never—what is happening?”
Finn leans back against the wall, eyes wide with fake suspicion. “This is a trap. They want to snoop. He’s going to check if we stole the good duct tape.”
“Or the spare zip ties,” Liam says solemnly. “Classic contraband.”
“Or,” Finn adds, “they’ll bring clipboards to evaluate the structural integrity of our toaster.”
Liam nods, grave. “He’ll open a cabinet and be like: ‘Explain this… unauthorized jar of Nutella.’”
I start laughing into my sleeve. Charlie loses it, face in the pillow.
Finn’s on a roll. “They’ll test us on house protocol. ‘Who adjusted the thermostat to twenty-two?’”
“Monster behavior,” Liam gasps. “Straight to jail.”
Charlie wipes tears from her eyes. “You’re both unwell.” She thumbs a reply, then pauses, smirking. “I’m telling him yes—but only if they bring the food.”
Finn whistles. “Power move.”
“Union rules,” Liam says, nodding like a foreman. “Management provides pasta.”
Charlie taps send. The room goes quiet in that content, post-giggle way. I exhale, the knot in my chest loosening just enough to breathe.
Dinner with them. Terrifying. And yet… my heart does that traitorous skip anyway.