Page 44 of Mad for Madison

“Still figuring things out,” I admitted, glancing at the canvases scattered across the studio. Some were bold and chaotic, others more restrained, as if I hadn’t fully decided what I wanted to say.

“Well, if you’re stuck, I brought bribes,” he teased, holding up the bag.

I smiled, setting aside my brush to meet him by the kitchen counter. It wasn’t much of a kitchen—just a sink, a hot plate, and a tiny fridge—but he made it feel like enough. Like everything I needed.

As we ate, he told me about his day, about Lily asking if stars could have feelings and Gran experimenting with a new recipe that nearly set off the smoke alarm. His life was so full, so rich, and yet he made space for me.

“You know,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “Lily’s been asking when she can see you again.”

I hesitated, the idea filling me with both warmth and a strange kind of fear. “She really likes me, huh?”

“I think she really does,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

My throat tightened. “I don’t know if I’m…good at that. At being someone she looks up to.”

Bradley reached across the table, covering my hand with his. “You already are.”

The conviction in his voice silenced every protest in my head.

Later, after we’d cleaned up and the city outside had quieted, he sat with me on the couch, flipping through one of my sketchbooks. He paused on a page—one of Lily, her hair wild, her smile wide and free.

“You should show her this,” he said softly.

“Maybe,” I said, but my voice wavered.

He turned to me, his expression gentle. “You’re allowed to let people in, Madison. Even the small ones.”

The truth of his words settled in my chest, heavy and real. I nodded, leaning into his side. The things I hadn’t figured out yet could wait. For now, this was enough. He was enough.

Our dinner was overdue. I knew it was. It was my fault for dragging it out so long. It was already late February when I told Bradley I wanted to meet his grandmother. Even saying thewords had made my voice quiver. It was crazy that I should be so much more nervous about meeting his grandmother than I had been about meeting Lily.

Kids loved you unconditionally. Kids didn’t judge. Besides, she was too little to understand, while Dorothy was someone who had protected both Bradley and Lily for years. She had every reason to be wary of me once I was there.

For that evening, I bought a nice bottle of sherry on Bradley’s recommendation. “She likes them sweet,” he’d said. I paced around the apartment, holding the bottle in one hand, trying to talk myself out of doing this. In Lane and Oakley’s room, something thumped, and Oakley let out a small cry.

I set the bottle on the table and hurried to their room, turning the knob and realizing what was happening a moment too late. The bedsheet was thankfully covering them when I entered the room, and both Lane and Oakley yelped in panic.

“Oh my god!” I froze in the doorway. “Fuck. Shit. Sorry.”

“Get out!” Oakley yelled back.

“Fuck,” Lane grunted.

I found the switch for my feet, turned it on, and successfully spun away from the sight of two mortal foes banging in Oakley’s bed.

My cheeks were redder than they should have been, given my relationship with sex. It was different when it was your friends who couldn’t stand each other, I figured.

The minutes that followed were torture, but Lane appeared after all. He wore his T-shirt inside out, having dressed in a hurry, and crossed his arms on his chest after shutting the door behind himself. “Do we need to talk about this?” he asked.

“I’m really fucking sorry,” I said. “I thought Oakley got hurt or something.”

“He most definitely didn’t get hurt,” Lane assured me.

There was a moment of silence. I debated it for a bit and decided to be frank. “Will he, though?”

“Will he what?”

“Get hurt?” I asked. Lane was a sporty guy, moving through many social circles and attracting a very good sort of attention. He was young and hot and mild-tempered, which probably meant he was in high demand. On the other hand, Oakley used his sarcasm and snappy attitude to deflect from his insecurities. This could be a disaster.

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