“Of course,” Liam answers immediately.
“Yeah,” Mel adds, looping an arm around her shoulders.
“Thanks,” Maddy murmurs.
Noah fumbles with the keys for a second, trying to unlock the door. When the door finally opens, we head inside. Luke’s standing in the kitchen, halfway into his jacket while shoving a charger into his bag. He looks up when the door shuts behind us.
“Back already?” he asks. “Thought you’d be out another couple hours.”
“It got pretty crowded,” Noah says easily, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. “Wasn’t really our thing.”
Luke nods like that makes perfect sense.
“Well, no harm in bailing on a bad party.” He checks the clock. “I’m heading to the other café, so you’ve got the house to yourselves.”
He walks over to Maddy and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. “You looked beautiful tonight, Mads.”
She smiles faintly. “Thanks, Dad.”
Then Luke pulls Noah into a quick hug. “Keep things under control while I’m gone, yeah?”
“Always.”
Luke glances around at the rest of us—Mel, Liam, Kiara—shaking his head fondly. “You kids behave.”
When he passes me, he gives my shoulder a quick clap, casual and familiar. “Don’t let them burn the place down.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
He nods once and heads for the door. A moment later it clicks shut behind him, and the house settles into that strange late-night quiet. I immediately glance over at Maddy, who is just staring in front of her.
Eventually people start peeling off upstairs to change, one after another. Shoes get kicked off, jackets dropped over chairs, quiet footsteps moving across the hallway.
I head upstairs too. Halfway up the stairs, I take off my blazer, undo a couple more buttons of my shirt and let out a slow breath. I’m almost at Noah’s room—where I dumped my bag earlier—when I hear her voice from down the hall.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters, sounding genuinely annoyed.
I glance over and catch a glimpse through the half-open door. Maddy’s turned slightly away from the mirror, her hair falling down her shoulders now, arms twisted awkwardly behind her back, fingers fumbling with the straps of her dress.
A quiet laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. I step closer and lean my shoulder lightly against the doorframe, watching her struggle for another second. Then I lift my hand and knock softly against the wood.
“Jesus—!” She spins around, hand flying to her chest.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” she says, which is obviously a lie. “I am just… losing a fight with my dress.”
“Yeah. I can see that.”
A small pause settles between us, stretching a little longer than it should.
“Mads,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry for what happened at the dance.”
Even though that son of a bitch deserved it.
She studies me for a moment, her expression softening slightly. “Well,” she says gently, “you didn’t hit him. So I think we’re okay.”
I let out a quiet breath and nod once, a faint laugh slipping out. My eyes drift to the thin laces running down the open back of her dress, and she tries to undo them again, not even close to reaching it.
