Page 18 of Let it Crackle
He doesn’t either. Not at first. Just stands there, like he knows any wrong word might detonate the moment.
“I went to the library,” he says finally, voice low, raspy. “Miss Esther told me you hadn’t shown up. She’s worried. So was I.”
I turn away, arms tight across my chest. “You didn’t care when it mattered.”
His breath catches. “That’s not true.”
“You didn’t say anything, Maddox,” I whisper. “That guy mocked me to your face. And you didn’t sayanything. Just like in high school. Just like before.”
“I know,” he says, stepping into the room slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. “And I hate myself for freezing. I’ve replayed it a hundred times. Thought of a hundred things Ishouldhave said. But I didn’t. And that silence… it hurt you, and I will never forgive myself for that.”
I blink fast. “I deleted it, you know.”
He frowns. “Deleted what?”
“The final chapter.” My voice cracks. “The one where the firefighter and the librarian actually make it work.”
Maddox stares at me, stunned. “Maya…”
I shake my head. “You don’t get to be surprised. You don’t get to act like it meant something to you when you let them laugh at me. I was just another girl you touched and forgot.”
He closes the distance in three strides.
“You weren’t,” he says, breathing hard. “You’re not.”
His hand brushes my arm, but I step back. “You don’t get to fix this with sex.”
“I’m not here for that.” He exhales. “I’m here because I haven’t been able to breathe since you left. I keep hearing your voice reading that scene. I keep seeing the way you looked at me—like I was someonegood.And I let you down.”
My voice is hollow. “So why now? Why come back?”
“Because I didn’t just fall for the girl in the librarian glasses.” He looks straight at me, soaked and wild and too real. “I fell for the girl who writes dirty little stories and hides them in her bag. The girl who was brave enough to read them out loud to me. The girl who trusted me with something she’s never trusted anyone else with. I fell for all of you, Maya.”
I don’t speak.
He steps forward, and this time, I don’t move.
“I don’t care who hears it now. You think I give a shit what the guys say? I’ll kiss you on the firetruck. I’ll read your stories out loud during training if that’s what it takes to make it right.”
“Maddox—”
“I’m in love with you. That’s it. That’s the story. No edits. And I’ll never forgive myselfever if you don’t forgive me. Or at least try to.”
The words land like a match on dry paper—instant fire. They tear through me, melting every wall I thought I rebuilt. Silence swells around us, not empty, but full. Full of every unspoken thing I’ve been too scared to name.
He steps closer. Eyes locked on mine.
And then he pulls something from his jacket pocket. Small. Rectangular. Laminated.
A library card.
I blink, confused—until I see my name printed neatly at the top:
Maya Gibbons.
And underneath, scrawled in thick black Sharpie:
Checked out for life. —Maddox Cole.
