24 MADDY
MADDY
To chaos, hairspray, and lots of dancing
We finally finished the shittiest exam ever. We’d been studying for it all week, and by the time we walked out of the building this afternoon, every single one of us looked like we’d been run over by a truck.
Luckily, it was the last major one for a while. The rest of the week is mostly lighter classes and a few small assignments. So the only logical move after surviving that was the beach.
Liam’s there when Noah and I arrive, his blond curls sticking out in every direction as he tosses a frisbee back and forth with Ryan, who catches it one-handed like it’s nothing.
Nearby, Kiara is stretched out on a striped towel, sunglasses pushed up into her brown curls while she talks animatedly to Mel, who’s holding two plastic cups and listening with an amused smile.
“Look who finally showed up!” Liam calls the moment he spots us.
Kiara pops up immediately and pulls me into a hug. “I was starting to think you ditched us.”
“Never,” I say, laughing.
Mel leans in right after, giving me a quick hug too, her long blonde curls brushing against my cheek.
Ryan tosses the frisbee one last time before jogging over, breathing a little heavier from the game.
On the way he claps Noah on the shoulder in greeting before stopping in front of me.
He’s wearing athletic shorts, and, well, that’s it.
No shirt. Showing the line of his arms, the shape of his chest, his back muscles.
Jesus. Has he always been this ripped? Or did I just never notice?
I look away almost immediately. I think I might be ovulating to keep noticing shit like that.
He stops close enough that I have to tilt my head up a little to meet his eyes. “Hey, babe,” he says, smiling.
“Hi.”
He steps closer, brushing his hand lightly against my arm before pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head.
A flash of the other night runs through my mind, and I feel heat creeping up my neck. Although, now we’re surrounded by people so it’s probably just for the act.
He’s still just standing in front of me with a tiny smirk on his face and his still very bare chest only inches away. I blink once and quickly look down, suddenly very interested in the sand at my feet.
Wow. Sand. So fascinating.
Get it together, Mads.
We drop down into the sand in a loose circle, passing around bags of chips and plastic cups while the waves roll in behind us.
“Can we talk about the fact that none of us are okay?” Mel groans, collapsing backward onto her elbows. “I haven’t slept in three days.”
“Same,” Kiara says immediately. “I’ve been operating purely on caffeine.”
Mel and I commiserate over our bio exam while I steal chips from Kiara’s bag and we watch the guys toss a volleyball back and forth nearby.
Kiara squints toward them. “Pff, we could totally take them.”
“I say we do,” Mel says, already pushing herself to her feet.
“Girls versus boys?” I call.
Noah grins and cracks his knuckles. “You’re on.”
We split into teams—Mel, Kiara, and me against Liam, Ryan, and Noah—and immediately start arguing about boundaries, rules, and whether the wind counts as interference.
Kiara serves first, launching the ball with way more force than necessary. Ryan dives for it, completely misjudges, and faceplants straight into the sand.
I double over laughing. “Ten out of ten form.”
Liam spikes the ball the next round—directly into Mel’s face. “Liam!” she shrieks, chasing him around the net while the rest of us cheer.
To make it up, Liam gently sets the ball for Mel instead of smashing it, and she actually takes the shot.
“Hey!” Noah and Ryan yell at the same time. “You’re on our side!”
Noah plays steady and focused, but when he sends the ball over, I catch it clean and hit it back. It lands just inside the crooked line we dragged into the sand.
“That’s out,” Noah says immediately.
“It was in,” Kiara argues.
“No it wasn’t.”
“You just don’t like losing.”
“Excuse you—”
“Point to the girls!” Liam yells, clearly enjoying the chaos.
We win the first round and collapse into the sand in a sweaty, laughing pile. The boys win the second round— unfortunately—but before they can celebrate too much we’re already starting the third.
We’re running, shouting, tripping over the uneven sand, and I think if this were a movie scene, “August” by Taylor Swift would be playing.
At one point I sprint for the ball, barely reaching it before Ryan appears out of nowhere, grabbing my waist to stop me from catching it.
“Got you,” he says, breathless, but I manage to still catch it and toss the ball blindly over my shoulder toward Mel.
“Hit it!” I yell.
Ryan lets go instantly and spins back toward the net, but it’s too late. Mel smacks the ball clean over, and it lands untouched. Game over.
Kiara screams, “YES!”
We burst into laughter while the boys groan dramatically.
“Champions! Champions!” Mel, Kiara, and I chant.
The guys wipe their foreheads, pretending they’re totally fine with losing even though they are absolutely not.
We drop back onto our towels, while the beach fills up like half the town had the exact same idea. Music drifts across the sand. Laughter carries through the warm evening air.
I’ve just taken a sip of my drink when I see Jacob. He’s walking straight toward me. And immediately, my mind flashes back to the moment outside the shop—his hand grabbing my wrist.
Something tightens in my stomach. And before I can even think about it, my feet start moving. Toward Ryan.
He’s sitting in a folding chair a few yards away, legs stretched out, a beer bottle dangling loosely from one hand while he talks with a couple of guys from his class.
What am I doing?
Why are my feet not stopping?
“Hey, babe,” I say when I reach them. “Hi guys.”
His classmates nod and smile in greeting. Ryan looks up at me, a small crease forming between his brows, like he can tell I’m about to do something questionable. “Hey, babe—”
And before I can talk myself out of it, I step closer and slide straight onto his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
His entire body goes still under me. “Maddy,” he says, low and surprised.
I lean in, my mouth close to his ear. “Is this okay?” I whisper. “Jacob’s here.”
Ryan doesn’t answer right away. His gaze lifts over my shoulder instead, and I feel the exact moment he spots him.
And then Jacob looks at us. Their eyes lock.
Ryan doesn’t look away. If anything, his mouth pulls into the faintest, almost mocking smile, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Like he’s trying to piss him off.
His hands come up, warm and steady as they settle at my waist. And before I can even think about it, he pulls me a little closer. My ass shifts deeper onto his lap. And shiver runs up my spine.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Jacob’s jaw tightening, his expression hardening just slightly.
“Yeah,” Ryan murmurs quietly, his voice lower now. “It’s okay.”
After a couple seconds, Jacob turns back to his friends, but every now and then, he glances back.
I stay where I am, turned slightly sideways across Ryan’s lap, one arm braced lightly around his shoulder.
We keep talking with his classmates. Ryan answers them quietly, his voice lower than usual. And I realize he hasn’t taken another sip of his beer. He’s just holding it loosely while his other hand rests at my waist, his thumb shifting slowly against the fabric of my hoodie.
More people arrive, music drifting through the warm evening air, our friends scattered nearby.
Ryan’s hand squeezes lightly at my waist—which makes me very glad I’m sitting down, because my knees might have started wobbling otherwise. And a low sound slips from Ryan’s throat.
I tilt my head toward him. “Are you okay?”
He clears his throat, and his voice comes out low and rough. “Don’t ask me that.”
“Do you want me to get up?”
“That’s definitely not what I want.”
My entire body gets hot as his breath touches my neck. And I don’t even know how to respond. Then someone nearby suddenly yells, “We’re going swimming!”
Great timing.
I shift to stand, but Ryan’s hands snap to my waist and pull me right back down.
“Maddy,” he mutters, his mouth close to my ear now, “you can’t just do that.”
“Do what?” I whisper.
He exhales slowly. “Stand up.”
“…Why?”
Another breath. His voice drops lower. “Because you need to give it a second.”
Oh.
Oh my God—is he seriously turned on right now?
I freeze. “Jesus, Ryan.”
“I know we’re pretending,” he mutters under his breath, his voice rough. “But I’m still a man, Mads. So please, give me a second.”
I try not to move. Which somehow makes everything worse, because I’m suddenly very aware of everything—the heat of his hands at my waist, the people around us, the fact that he is freaking hard under me.
“Stop moving your ass on me,” he mutters quietly. “Seriously.”
“I’m not moving!”
Ryan swears under his breath, then stands up in one smooth motion—lifting me with him like I’m a goddamn feather. Which I’m not, he is just freakishly strong. One arm slides under my thighs, the other steady at my back.
“Ryan—!”
“Get ready to dive,” he says, already walking toward the water. Ryan ducks under, pulling me down with him until we’re fully under water.
When we resurface, I shove the wet hair out of my eyes, gasping a little at the cold. Ryan wipes water from his face, breathing out a short laugh.
“Better?” I ask.
Before he can answer, I splash a handful of water straight at him. It hits him right in the face.
Ryan blinks, stunned for half a second, then laughs, shaking the water out of his hair. “That definitely helped.”
I snort. “You’re welcome.”
Another small wave rolls around our legs and we both start wading back toward the shore, my heart still racing with what just happened.
Later, I end up curled up on a blanket with Kiara, Mel, and Liam, tucked into a quieter pocket of the beach. Out by the water, Noah and Ryan are playing soccer with a few other guys.
“Do you guys ever think that Noah might be superman?” Liam suddenly says, head titled to the side.
“Oh yeah,” Kiara immediately says, and Mel jumps in. “Give him the glasses and he’s basically Clark Kent.”
I laugh under my breath. “He would definitely disappear and then come back in his super suit.”
We laugh about it for a minute, and then turn back to watching the guys play.
Mel grins and nudges my knee. “You know, it’s actually really cute how Ryan keeps looking over here.”
I wave them off. “Yeah, yeah.”
Kiara snorts. “He kissed you on the head earlier like it was nothing. I’ve known Ryan since I was twelve. He does not do head kisses.”
A flashback of the other night appears in my head again.
“Yeah,” Liam adds easily. “He’s down bad.”
If only they knew it’s all fake. But I can’t deny that saying that now sounds weaker. Is everything still fake? I mean, it should be right? But is it?
I lean my head against Kiara’s shoulder, letting the warmth and noise settle around us. I glance toward the water, just in time to catch Ryan already looking at me. He lifts his brows slightly and gives me a quick wink before turning back to the game.
Oh, I’m so screwed.
A few minutes later the game breaks up and Ryan and Noah wander over, dropping onto the sand beside us.
Kiara immediately sits up straighter. “Okay,” she announces dramatically. “Can we talk about the event of the season?”
Everyone raises their eyebrows.
“The campus dance is this Friday,” she continues anyway.
“Oh right,” Noah mutters. “That’s this week.”
Kiara whips around to stare at him. “Gosh, how are you both my favourite person and the most boring man alive?”
Noah just shrugs, smiling.
Liam turns to Mel, suddenly much softer. “So… Mel. Do you want to go with me?”
She laughs and nudges his leg. “Yes. Obviously.”
“Aww,” Kiara sighs, pressing a hand to her chest. “True love. Disgusting.”
Then she sighs again. “Meanwhile I’m tragically single.”
“Same,” Noah says. “Guess we’re each other’s dates.”
Kiara immediately high-fives him. “Deal. But I control what you wear.”
I shake my head, laughing, and I feel Ryan shift beside me. He clears his throat just enough to get everyone’s attention, his expression way too calm for someone about to do something dramatic.
“So,” he says, a little louder now, “Madelyn Hazel Gracelyn.”
There’s something about the way my full name rolls off his tongue that sends me shivers.
“Will you go to the dance with me?”
A couple people nearby glance over.
I nod, with a grin. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
A few people nearby let out soft awws and I lean in slightly, “Full name? You really went for it, huh?”
He shrugs his shoulders, a grin appearing on his face. “Well, we gotta keep it convincing right?”
Oh. Okay, still fake. Got it.
I blink and it takes me a second before responding. “Yes—yes, of course.”
Mel claps immediately. “Okay! Now that everyone is officially going—outfits.”
“Yes!” Kiara says. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
We spiral into outfit talk for a solid ten minutes before Mel suddenly turns to the guys. “Wait. What are you all wearing?”
“Clothes,” Noah says.
“Probably a button-up?” Liam adds.
Kiara stares at them in horror. “That’s it?”
Mel looks equally offended. “You boys need to take this seriously.”
“It’s a dance,” Noah says. “Not the Met Gala.”
Kiara gasps. “Noah Luke Gracelyn. How dare you.”
I turn to Ryan. “You better wear something good, because I’m wearing heels.”
He smirks. “Yes, ma’am.”
Why does everything this man says give me butterflies? It’s really annoying.
“We should all get ready at our place,” I add, trying to think of anything else than this entire butterfly garden inside my stomach. “Tradition.”
“Absolutely,” Mel agrees.
“Great,” Liam says.
Kiara raises her red cup into the air. “To chaos, hairspray, and lots of dancing.”
We all clink our drinks together like idiots.