Chapter 25 Mandie
Chapter twenty-five
Mandie
Iwoke up lying on Johnny's chest. His breathing was slow, even. It was the kind of quiet that only comes after exhaustion, or maybe just after really good sex. I traced the ink on his arm with my fingertip, the faded lines of some old band logo he’d probably gotten when he was too young to know better.
His skin twitched under my touch, and before I could pull away, his hand shot out, fingers locking around my wrist.
"You’re thinking too loud," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
I smirked. "Didn’t know that was possible."
His grip loosened just enough to let me drag my nails down his forearm, watching the way his muscles tensed in response.
He rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one hand.
Those stupidly bright green eyes caught the light like a cat’s.
The sheets had slipped low, exposing the sharp lines of his hipbones and the faint scar above his pelvis from some fight he’d never bother explaining.
I knew better than to ask.
"Thanks, babe," he said, sudden and soft, like he’d been holding the words hostage and just decided to let them go.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Last night…
you really pulled me through. And I—" He cut himself off with a shake of his head, but the ghost of a smirk tugged at his mouth. "I feel a lot better now."
I arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? That's all it takes? One round of emotional strip poker and Johnny Boyd’s a new man?"
His laugh was low, warm. He leaned in until his breath fanned against my lips. "Strip poker? Baby, if we’d been playing that version, you would've been naked by the second hand. And you know what I am talking about. What you did with that game."
I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge, just grinned wider. "Please. I didn't do anything."
"For a criminal, you are a bad liar."
"For a guy who is fast, you sure are slow."
He surged forward, catching my mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and heat, his free hand tangling in my hair hard enough to make my scalp prickle.
I bit back, nipping at his lower lip until he groaned, the sound vibrating against my tongue.
His body pressed me into the mattress, the weight of him familiar and infuriating all at once.
The guy couldn’t even kiss without turning it into a competition.
I broke away first, just to watch his eyes darken with frustration. "Careful, Pulsewave. Start flexing those ego muscles too hard, you might pull something."
He huffed a laugh, forehead dropping to mine. "You love my ego."
"Like a migraine."
His fingers walked up my ribs, slow and deliberate, until his palm cupped the underside of my breast. My breath hitched, damn him, and his smirk was pure victory.
"Liar," he growled.
I should’ve kneed him. I should’ve rolled out of bed and left him there with his smug face and his stupid, perfect hands. But the truth was, I did love his ego. I loved the way he wore it like armor, all sharp edges and dare-you looks, because I knew what was underneath.
So instead of pushing him away, I hooked a leg over his hip and pulled him closer. "Shut up and kiss me again."
He did. And this time, there was no competition in it. Just his mouth on mine, slow and sure. His hand slid up to cradle my jaw, thumb brushing over the tattoo behind my ear, the one I’d gotten the night I left Teddy. Johnny acted like he knew what it meant. Like he knew all of them.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was unsteady. "You’re gonna be the death of me, Weaver."
I grinned. "Promises, promises."
He rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling when he pressed his forehead to mine again.
For a second, neither of us spoke. The quiet between us wasn’t uncomfortable.
Johnny didn’t need to fill silences the way some people did.
He was content to just… exist. And for some reason, he let me exist with him.
"You really think last night helped?" I asked finally, keeping my voice light. "Or are we all just gonna go back to pretending we’re not a bunch of broken messes?"
His fingers stilled. Then he sighed, long and low. "I think it’s a start." He tilted his head, studying me. "You’re good at that, you know. Getting people to crack open."
I snorted. "Yeah, real talent. Should put it on my resume."
"No, I mean it." His thumb pressed against my pulse point. "You don’t let us hide. Not even from ourselves."
I swallowed. That was too close to something real. "Someone’s gotta keep you idiots in line."
Johnny’s smile was soft, almost sad. "Yeah. And somehow, it’s always you."
I opened my mouth to deflect, but his stomach growled loudly. We both jumped, then laughed, the tension shattering.
"Hungry?" I asked.
He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Starving. Pretty sure that smell is Donovan making breakfast."
"Pretty sure you're right." I pushed up onto my elbows, looking down at him. Messy hair, pillow crease on his cheek. He looked younger like this. "You’re lucky you’re cute."
His grin was all teeth. "I know."
I rolled my eyes but didn’t pull away when his hands settled on my hips. "I need coffee. Lots of coffee."
Johnny groaned again, dramatically. "You’re a cruel woman, Mandie Weaver."
I leaned down, brushing my lips over his one last time. "And you love it."
I grabbed another cup of coffee and leaned on the armrest of the couch, watching the others.
Sebastian was perched on a stool by the kitchen island, fingers steepled under his chin like a villainous professor plotting world domination. And Roger was bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning like he’d won the lottery.
"Alright, Doc," I said, nudging Sebastian’s shoe with my bare toe. "You’re the shrink. Did last night’s little heart-to-heart actually do anything, or are we still just a bunch of traumatized assholes with trust issues?"
Sebastian’s lips quirked. "Traumatized assholes with slightly fewer trust issues," he corrected. "Progress isn’t linear, Mandie. But I’d say we’re… adjacent to a breakthrough."
Johnny snorted. "Adjacent. Christ, that’s the most Sebastian answer ever."
I nearly spat out my coffee. "Oh, fuck you."
Johnny just grinned. "Worth it."
Roger clapped his hands together, the sound sharp enough to cut through the banter. "Alright, enough feelings for one morning. How about we play a real game? Old school." His blue eyes gleamed with all mischief and no subtlety. "Hide and seek."
I raised an eyebrow. "Hide and seek? What are we, five?"
"This will be adult hide and seek." He stepped closer, broad shoulders blocking the light. "You hide. We seek. First one to find you gets…" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.
I set my mug down with a deliberate clink. "Gets what, Roger?"
His grin turned wolfish. "First dibs. On you."
A beat of silence. Then Johnny let out a low whistle. "Damn. That’s actually not a terrible idea."
Sebastian’s gaze darkened, fingers tapping against his knee. "You’re suggesting we turn this into a competition?"
"Why not?" Roger spread his hands. "No powers. Just good old-fashioned hunting. And the stakes?" His eyes locked onto mine. "Worth it."
I could feel the weight of their stares. Johnny’s hungry, Sebastian’s calculating, Donovan’s quiet but intense. My skin prickled, heat pooling low in my stomach. Fuck, they were insufferable.
And I loved it.
"Fine," I said, pushing off the couch. "But no cheating. No super-speed, no flying, no turning into fucking water—"
"Hey," Sebastian protested, a smirk playing at his lips.
"And no shrinking," I added, pointing at Johnny.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Scout’s honor."
Roger rubbed his palms together. "Alright. Rules: Mandie gets a five-minute head start. We stay in the main room. And when we find you… we can use our powers again."
I rolled my eyes, but my pulse was already kicking up. "Five minutes. Starting now."
I didn’t wait to think. I bolted.
The Keystone was a maze of sleek corridors and hidden nooks with all sterile white walls and cold metal accents. Not exactly cozy, but there were plenty of places to disappear if you knew where to look.
I ducked into the gym first. It was empty, the air still thick with the scent of sweat and rubber mats. I made a beeline for the showers. The stall doors were flimsy, but the ventilation shafts above them? Just wide enough to shimmy into if you didn’t mind getting a little dirty.
I hauled myself up, tattoos scraping against the metal, and wedged my body into the tight space. The duct was cramped, the air stale and warm, but it gave me a perfect view of the shower stalls below through the slatted vents. Not that I expected them to check here first.
Men were predictable like that.
I counted down the seconds in my head, listening to the distant shuffle of feet and low murmurs of voices. They were spreading out, already arguing over strategy.
"She’s not gonna pick somewhere obvious," Sebastian’s voice carried, crisp and authoritative. "She’ll go for high ground or somewhere with an escape route."
Johnny scoffed. "Or she’ll just hide in the fucking fridge to mess with us."
Roger’s laugh boomed. "Nah, she’s got a tell. She always goes left when she’s trying to disappear. Watch."
I bit my lip to keep from snorting. Amateur.
Footsteps echoed closer, then faded. The gym door hissed shut.
Silence.
I exhaled, slow and quiet, and shifted just enough to peek through the vent again.
And froze.
Johnny was standing right there. Arms crossed, eyes locked onto the shower stalls like he could see through the ceiling tiles.
"I know where she is," he said, voice low.
Sebastian materialized beside him, sleek and silent as a shadow. "Oh?"
Johnny tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "She’s above us."
Fuck.
"How do you know that?" Sebastian asked.
"Because Roger beat us to it."
I didn’t even have time to react before the vent in front of me creaked.