By the time I finish cleaning and making myself presentable, Madison has mostly finished packingâthough, by mostly, I mean her clothes are at least in the bag, even if itâs a chaotic mess of sweaters, leggings, and God knows what else.
I shake my head with a smirk and kneel next to her bed, helping her zip the overstuffed bag while she sighs dramatically. âI swear, I have no idea how I ended up with so much stuff for three days.â
I grunt, tugging the zipper closed. âBecause you pack like youâre going on a month-long excursion instead of to Thanksgiving with my family, which is literally 45 minutes from here.â
She nudges my shoulder, rolling her eyes. âItâs called being prepared.â
I grab her duffel, throwing it over my shoulder as she grabs her purse, and we head out to my truck. Before she can climb in, I catch her wrist gently, pulling her back. She looks up at me, confused, until I reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger against her cheek for just a moment, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. I lean in for one more kiss, pressing my lips to hers.
âJust wanted to do that before we get to my parentsâ and they start embarrassing us both,â I murmur.
She blushes, ducking her head but leaning into my touch before I help her into the truck.
The drive starts out easyâMadison curled up in the passenger seat, her legs tucked beneath her, the radio playing low in the backgroundâbut I see the shift.
The way her fingers start fidgeting with the sleeves of her cardigan.
The way she chews on the inside of her cheek. I know sheâs nervous before she even asks the question Iâve been expecting.
âSoâ¦did you, uhâ¦tell them?â she finally asks, voice hesitant.
I glance over, lifting a brow. âTell them what?â
She shoots me a look. âThat weâreâ¦you know.â
A slow smirk pulls at my lips as I refocus on the road. âI mean, I may have mentioned it a couple times. And by âmay have mentioned,â I mean my mom has hounded me about it daily since she first suspected something was up.â
She groans, sinking further into her seat. âOh my God.â
I chuckle, but when I steal another glance at her, I see the way her shoulders tense, the way she keeps adjusting her clothes and twisting her fingers, like sheâs trying to ground herself.
I donât like that. I donât like that sheâs worriedânot here, not with me.
So, I take the next exit off the freeway and pull onto a quieter side road, slowing the truck to a stop on the shoulder.
Madison frowns, sitting up straighter. âWhy are we stopping?â
I shift into park, letting out a slow breath before turning to face her fully. âBecause I need you to hear me.â
She blinks, brows furrowing. âJaxâ ââ
âMads, in case it isnât already obvious, Iâm not ashamed of bringing you home like this, not even a little.â I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, grounding us both. âTruthfully, Mom has probably been praying for this day since we were kids. And if Iâm being honest? My whole family has been waiting for it.â
She swallows, her gaze flickering down to our joined hands, her fingers hesitating before she tightens them around mine.
âThey love you, Mads.â
And so do I.
The words nearly spill out right then, sitting heavy on my tongue, clawing their way up my throat like theyâve been waiting years to be said.
Because havenât I loved her forever?
Even before she let herself look at me the way she did nowâI was already hers.
Even if she still doesnât quite know how to be mine.
I swallow hard, pushing past the lump in my throat. Instead, I squeeze her hand, smirking just enough to soften the weight in the air.
âMight be a little cheesy,â I murmur. âAnd probably something I shouldâve asked before what just happened back at your place, butâ¦I guess I never really made this official, did I?â
Her lips part slightly, like she wasnât expecting that. âOh.â
I raise a brow. âOh? Oh, as in, yes, or oh, as in no?â
She tilts her head, studying me, hesitation flickering across her face before something softer takes its place. âWellâ¦do you want me to be your girlfriend?â
I smirk, my thumb brushing along her knuckles. âI want you to be whatever you want to be.â
She exhales, her lips pressing together, like sheâs trying to find the right words. But thereâs something in her eyesâsomething nervous, something raw.
Quietly, she murmurs, âI donât want to hurt you, Jax.â
I still, and her fingers squeeze mine before she keeps going.
âI want to be with you. Trust me, I do. This is justâ¦new for me. And scary. I might mess up a lot. We both know I like to push people away, butâ¦â She pauses, licking her lips, voice barely above a whisper. âYeah. Iâd like to try.â
The tightness in my chest eases, something lighter settling in its place.
I donât even think before I lean in, brushing my lips against hersâslow and sure, like a promise I intend to keep.
She exhales into me, her grip on my hand tightening as she kisses me back, hesitant at first, then more.
I pull away just enough to murmur against her lips, âGood. Because I wasnât planning on letting you go anyway.â
A soft, breathy laugh escapes her, shaking her head like Iâm impossible. Then, Iâm kissing her again.
But she doesnât pull away.
And thatâs enough for now.
The rest of the drive flies by.
Madison eventually relaxes, leaning her head against the window as she scrolls through her phone, our hands still lazily tangled. I steal glances at her every so often, watching the way the sunlight catches in her hair, the way her fingers absently trace patterns along the back of my hand.
She has to know what sheâs doing to me, but I donât think she really has the slightest clue.
We listen to music, talk about nothing and everything, and before I know it, weâre pulling into my parentsâ neighborhood, the streets lined with familiar houses, each one dressed in subtle fall decorations.
But nothing is as familiar as this one.
As I park in the driveway, I glance at Madison.
Sheâs staring at the house, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater. Thereâs something in her eyesâa mix of nostalgia and uncertainty that makes me want to wrap her up and never let go.
She swallows. âFeels like it hasnât changed at all.â
I smirk, shutting off the engine. âProbably because it hasnât.â
She exhales, shaking her head with a small, nostalgic smile. âI forgot how much I missed this place. All those summer nights on the porch, your mom teaching me to bake in the kitchenâ¦â She trails off, lost in memories for a moment.
I squeeze her thigh lightly. âIt missed you too, Mads.â
She rolls her eyes but doesnât fight me on it.
Before she can get lost in her thoughts, I notice her hands are trembling slightlyâwhether from nervousness or the cool air, Iâm not sure. I take both her hands in mine, bringing them to my lips and warming them with my breath. Her eyes widen slightly, fixing on the gesture with an intensity that makes my heart race.
âRelax,â I whisper against her knuckles. âItâs just us, same as always.â
She nods, visibly calming under my touch just as the front door flings open.
âOh my God, theyâre here!â
I barely have time to react before my mom comes bolting down the steps, my dad following at a much more reasonable pace, shaking his head.
Madison stiffens slightly beside me, but I donât give her a chance to overthink it.
I hop out, jogging around to her side and opening the door before she can. I take her hand to help her down, and before she can step away, I cup her face gently and press a soft kiss to her forehead. âRelax, baby,â I whisper against her skin.
I feel her breath catch at my words, and I pull back to see something flash in her eyesâawareness, maybe, of what I almost just confessed. But now isnât the time.
âCome on, Mads. No turning back now.â
She groans. âYou say that like Iâm being sent to the gallows.â
I smirk. âClose enough.â
She glares at me, but before she can retaliate, my mom practically tackles her in a hug.
âOh, sweetheart! Look at you! You get prettier every time I see you.â My mom pulls back, cupping Madisonâs face, beaming. âI could cry.â
Madison huffs a soft laugh, her face slightly pink. âHey, Mama Montgomery.â
My mom beams, tugging her into another tight hug before pulling away. âCome inside! I need all the details about what exactly my son did to finally get his head out of his ass and lock you down.â
Madison groans. âOh my God.â
I smirk, grabbing our bags with one hand, reaching for her hand and lacing my fingers with hers with the other. As the November chill picks up, I instinctively move my hand to the small of her back, guiding her forward. She leans into the touch, a small gesture of trust that speaks volumes.
âTold you sheâs been waiting for this, Mads.â
Madison glares at me but lets me guide her toward the house, my mom already leading the way inside with far too much excitement.
As I head into the house with my family, I canât help but think Iâd follow that girl anywhere.
Once inside, I lead Madison upstairs to the guest room where sheâll be staying. She pauses in the doorway, a surprised smile spreading across her face as she notices what Iâve done. On the nightstand sits a small glass jar filled with sunflowers and, next to it, sits a worn Polaroid of us from junior year, her laughing as I made a ridiculous face.
âYou kept this?â she asks softly, picking up the photo.
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling exposed. âYeah, wellâ¦some things you just donât throw away. I wanted to make sure you knew you werenât the only one holding onto things.â
She turns to me, something unreadable in her expression, before she rises on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. âThank you,â she whispers.
I set her bag down, winding my arms around her, suddenly wishing we had more time alone before joining my family.
The breeze rolls in from the ocean, cool but not cold, the scent of salt lingering in the air. My dad sits down in one of the patio chairs, sipping his beer before nodding toward the kitchen window.
âShe looks good in there.â
I glance over my shoulder, my eyes finding Madison instinctually.
Sheâs standing at the counter, laughing as my mom gestures dramatically about something, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour.
As if sensing my gaze, she looks up, catching my eye through the window. For a moment, everything around us seems to fade awayâthe noise, the people, everything but her. She smiles, just for me, before my mom pulls her attention back to whatever theyâre making.
I canât look away. I donât want to.
My dad chuckles under his breath. âYouâre staring, son.â
I smirk, turning back around, taking a seat next to him. âYeah. I know.â
He hums, watching me for a second before taking another sip of his beer. âSoâ¦how are you feeling about all this?â
I exhale, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees. âHonestly? Like Iâve been waiting my whole damn life for it to happen.â
He nods slowly. âJust be careful with your heart, Jax. You have a lot of big changes coming up in a pretty short amount of time. Your whole life is about to change.â
My jaw tightens slightly, and he must see it, because he holds up a hand. âNot saying sheâs gonna hurt you, butâ¦I know you. You feel things big, you love wide open, especially her. And Madisonâsheâs been through a lot. Justâ¦give her space when she needs it. Let her come to you when sheâs ready.â
I swallow, staring down at my hands. âI know.â
He pats my shoulder. âI hope it works out for you two. Youâve been dancing around each other for years. Just seems right.â
I smirk slightly. âYeah. It does.â
Before he can say anything else, the sound of tires crunching in the driveway grabs our attention.
âThatâll be your aunt and uncle,â my dad says, standing up.
I follow him off the deck just as my Aunt Denise and Uncle Rob step out of their car, my cousins Emily and Sean piling out after them.
Emily spots me first, her eyes lighting up. âJaxon!â She runs the last few feet, hurling herself at me. Iâm definitely going to miss it when she gets too big to think Iâm cool.
I grunt as I catch her. âDamn, Em. Trying to take me out already?â
She laughs, stepping back. âShut up. Youâve gotten bigger since I saw you last.â
Sean walks up, smirking as he pulls me into a quick bro hug. âYouâre just small, Em.â
She glares at him before turning back to me. âSo, where is she?â
I blink. âWho?â
Emily crosses her arms, giving me a look. âDonât play dumb. Madison.â
Sean smirks, nodding toward the house. âYeah, man, everyoneâs been talking about how you finally made a move.â
I shake my head, chuckling. âSheâs inside, helping my mom.â
Emily grins. âOh, this I gotta see.â And just like that, she runs toward the house, my momâs excited voice ringing out the second she steps inside.
Sean claps me on the back. âSoâ¦is it weird? You guys going from best friends toâ â?â
I shake my head. âNot weird at all.â
Itâs the truth.
Being with Madison doesnât feel new.
It feels right.
Later, as the evening settles in and the house grows louder with family conversations, I find Madison in the kitchen doorway, watching everyone with a small smile. I slip behind her, close enough that she can feel me but not touching, and lean down.
âRemember when you used to sneak in here and steal the cookie dough?â I whisper near her ear, my voice low enough that only she can hear. âMom always knew it was you, but she blamed me anyway.â
Madison turns her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eye. âAnd you never ratted me out, not once.â
âSome things never change,â I murmur, finally letting my hand rest on her hip, a gentle claim. âIâd still take the fall for you.â
Madisonâs breath hitches just slightly, her gaze flickering down to my lips before meeting my eyes again.
âYeah?â she whispers, tilting her head just enough to brush against me. âThen maybe I should make it worth your while this time.â
A slow smirk tugs at my lips as I pull her closer, my fingers tightening on her waist. âOh yeah?â
She hums, eyes flicking to my mouth, her breath warm against my skin. âYeah.â
I tilt my head, ready to close the gap, ready to taste the smile I know is waiting for meâ â
âJaxon! Madison! Come inside before the food gets cold!â
Madison groans, dropping her forehead against my chest. I exhale sharply, my hands flexing against her sweater before I let her go.
âUnbelievable,â she mutters, stepping back.
I chuckle, brushing a thumb over her jaw before nodding toward the house. âCâmon, Blake. Wouldnât want you to starve.â
She rolls her eyes but follows me inside, tangling her fingers with mine.