Dancing on the lawn amongst tombstones and pumpkins, Madison looked like she was carved from the night.

Black latex hugged her body like it had been painted on, an aurora of red, blue, and purple light rippling across her catsuit as she spun out of Noah's arms and into Dex's. Knee-high boots stretched her legs so they were never-ending, and looped through her belt was a whip—the legitimacy of which I'd been debating since first spotting her across the quad. I wasn't close enough to see her eyes, to know whether they sparkled like stars or swirled like pools of melted midnight. One thing was beyond question: against the eternal blanket of darkness, her smile signaled the dawn.

"What's wrong, Mr. J?" Kara asked, poking me in the ribs with her baseball bat. "Cat got your tongue?"

I leaned back against the snack table, nodding to Madison's costume, then down to hers. "That was your doing, wasn't it, Quinn?"

Madison's roommate twisted one of her platinum pigtails around her finger. She'd dip-dyed it red and the other royal blue, matching her crimson and cobalt bomber jacket. It was strange—to see her sporting a color other than pink. "I don't know what you're talking about. My friend needed a costume at the last minute," she cooed sweetly, "and I had a spare."

"You had a catsuit on-hand?"

"Mhm."

I was ... not surprised.

"Besides ..." Kara added, turning to pour us each a cup of orange punch before her eyes followed the path mine had seared across the quad. The buildings had been turned into taunts doused in eerie red light, and fake cobwebs were draped over bushes and trees, interwoven with paper lanterns and glow-in-the-dark spiders. "Madison as Catwoman is what the world needs. I'm doing the world a favor."

She was not doing the vow I'd made to Madison to be just friends any favors.

She must have read it on my face, because when her green eyes met mine, a little smirk pulled at her bright lips. "Don't worry, I get it."

I swallowed a dry laugh, taking the drink she handed me before peering back out into the quad. The courtyard had been transformed into a cemetery-styled-dancefloor, complete with fake headstones and a record-scratching ghost. Madison was still there, still dancing with Dex and Noah. Dancing. What was more, she was smiling.

She did that from time to time—let her guard down. And as much as I loved her spunk, loved the way her eyes darkened before she made some snarky comment that had my heart hammering, it was catching her in the moments when she thought no one was watching her that I loved the most. When something inside of me melted. It was moments like these, when she didn't cover her smile. Because her smile ... It was just that intense.

"No," I told Kara, taking a swig of the sweet liquid. "You don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't—"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I do."

Something in her tone snagged my attention. Her eyes were exactly where mine had been—tracing our friends in the crowd. Tracing ... tracing Madison in the crowd.

She could've taken that baseball bat and hit me over the head with it. My head was spinning.

"You ..." She couldn't mean ... "Madison?"

A small, wistful smile appeared where her smirk had been. "Something like that."

Something like that? My cheeks might have been as red as Kara's pigtail. Shit. I knew the two of them were close now, but I'd never suspected that there was anything ... else going on between them.

I bought myself some time with another sip of my drink. And choked on it.

"Pump the breaks, Wonder Boy." Kara patted me on the back while I tried to compose myself. "I'm not going to steal your girl. Lord knows I've tried."

I was about to remind her that Madison wasn't my girl—and maybe ask her to clarify what she meant by tried—when a girl from our dorm building squeezed between us, reaching for a skull-shaped cookie.

"I'll be damned." Batgirl—or Shay—consulted Kara with a long glance before her gaze settled on me. She did a sweep of my costume, nodding in approval. "And here I thought you'd be too cool to dress up for Halloween."

I chuckled. Actually, I'd tried to get away with minimal effort this year, but that was a crime against humanity as far as Noah was concerned. Granted, the black shadow he'd dusted along the hollows of my cheeks and the line of red dripping from my mouth like blood was nothing compared to his iridescent skeleton face paint, or even Dex's zombified Spider-Man. Was I a vampire? A demon? The high court judges leaching women of their rights? No clue. But Noah was pacified, and that was good enough.

When I looked back at Shay, she was still staring at me. Pointedly. So quickly I could have missed it, her attention drifted to Kara. I quirked a brow, and the eyes she'd coated in yellow glitter widened like they were beaming Gotham's secrets. She jerked her head at the platinum blonde just to drive the message home.

Right.

Clearing my throat, I introduced them to each other. And was subjected to five whole minutes of being sandwiched between two women exchanging D.C.-inspired sexual innuendo as they very obviously checked one another out.

Funny, that while Dex was living my fantasies, I was living his.

He lifted his arm, and Madison spun underneath. I saw it before Dex did—her heels two centimeters away from making contact with the dismembered zombie hand poking out from the soil behind her. But it wasn't either of our friends that reached out to grab her just in time.

No—because a topless fireman appeared in a plume of literal smoke, his bronze chest completely bare bar a pair of suspenders secured to his trousers.

I scoffed. I'd clearly missed the memo that Halloween doubled as Camden's Twelve Months of Abs calendar tryouts.

"What?" Once again, Kara tracked my gaze to the lawn, where the half-naked fireman was now joined by a half-naked cowboy, both of their hands suspiciously low on Madison's waist while they steadied her. She pursed her lips. "I see."

My grip tightened around my cup. The Madison I knew would slap anyone for touching her like that. At the very least, they'd be on the receiving end of some tantalizingly vicious language. But she was talking to those guys. Smiling at them. As if totally oblivious to the fact that they were slowly positioning her between them, blocking Dex and Noah from snatching her back. That they weren't even making eye contact. Not with her eyes, at least.

Ignoring the sly look Kara gave me, I gestured across the quad. "Does she seem a little ... tipsy to you?"

"Oh, she's definitely tipsy." My frown deepened, and Kara clarified, "I bought her some tequila shots. She loves tequila shots. And she was having a rough day."

"She was?" That was news to me. "And you thought tequila was the answer?"

"Tequila is always the answer." She raised her drink, then threw it back for emphasis. It mustn't have garnered the response from me she was after, because after registering my expression, she grimaced. "I know, okay? But I didn't know what else to do. She wasn't even going to come tonight, James."

I felt my glare soften as I caught sight of the worry on Kara's face. "That bad, huh?"

"That bad."

Something in my chest twinged.

"I'm going to check out the mirror maze," Shay declared suddenly. In all fairness, I don't think she could hear us over the music. Her eyes heated like melted honey as she extended a hand to Kara. "Want to come?"

The look Kara threw me was like a puppy begging for seconds.

I tutted. But relented. "Always cleaning up your messes, Quinn."

Childlike glee lit her face. She rose to her tiptoes, stretching up to flick one of my devil horns. "And that's why I pay you such a competitive retainer."

I huffed a laugh. "Go give Gotham hell."

"I plan on giving her a lot more than that."

I rolled my eyes. But didn't doubt it.

Carving a path through a herd of creepy clowns, I prowled across the lawn, throwing my empty cup in a trashcan decorated like a mummy. My eyes zeroed in on the guys still gripping Madison's waist. I had every intention of tearing their hands off. But Madison turned suddenly, her golden hair fanning around her. Half of her face was covered by a latex domino mask that flicked up at the sides like wings, but I could see her dark blue eyes glittering, zeroing in on me. Stars and midnight.

Her red lips curved, but it wasn't just a smile. She beamed, and it was like a bolt through my heart.

"James," she breathed.

She wriggled free from the fireman's grip, throwing a thank you over her shoulder before meeting me where my shoes had anchored themselves to the grass. I hadn't even noticed that I'd stopped walking. Within seconds, she barreled into my arms, and then all I could smell was jasmine and coconut and Madison.

I wrapped my arms around her before I could think better of it, drawing a sobering breath at the feeling of her costume beneath my fingers. I dodged her cat-ear headband as she rested her cheek on my chest, squeezing me so tight that there was a very good chance she could feel my heart racing too quickly.

"Are you okay?" I managed to ask.

Face squished against me, she murmured, "No."

My pulse tripped over itself. I pulled back. "No?"

Still beaming, she said, "I think I'm going to throw up."

I blinked down at her.

She blinked up at me.

Her fireman and cowboy backed away slowly.

"Come on." I detangled my arms from around her, reaching for her hand. She weaved her fingers through mine without question, and damn it if my stupid heart didn't flip at her touch.

The line to the closest bathroom was spilling into the quad when we passed, and I sifted through my mental map of campus. The crowd trickled into smaller groups as we entered the labyrinth of buildings, the music dulling behind us. Madison stumbled, and I stopped, securing my grip on her hand.

"I've got you," I told her.

It wasn't until we'd started walking again that she whispered, "I know."

I settled against the wall in the corridor once we made it to the next closest bathroom. The building was empty, the lights off, and I was pretty sure we weren't supposed to be in here. But the door had been unlocked, and as far as I was concerned, it was an emergency. My phone lit up the dark as I sent a quick reply to Noah, then Kara, reassuring them that Madison was tipsy, but fine. And then I waited outside the bathroom. I waited and waited, per Madison's initial adamance that I couldn't see her 'like this'. When a worrying amount of time had passed, I knocked on the door.

"Madison?"

Silence.

Fidgeting, I waited another handful of seconds before calling out again.

Still, nothing. Nothing but a bunch of worst-case scenarios playing out in my mind.

"If you don't answer," I warned, "I'm coming in."

It was so quiet that I could hear the music from outside through the walls.

I opened the door, almost scaring myself to death at the sight of my reflection in the mirror. Noah's handiwork on my face had stood the test of time, and the horns he'd insisted I wear on top of my all-black ensemble really took the whole devil thing to the next level. I rolled back my sleeves, steadying my nerves, and cast a glance over every stall to ascertain which one Madison was in.

Every door was open. Every cubicle—vacant. The bathroom was empty, and the window was wide open.

I raced for it, sticking my head out until cool night air slapped my cheeks, peering down and absolutely expecting the worse, but ...

Not a death drop. A wide, flat ridge between two peaks. And there she was—perched so effortlessly. Like she really was a black cat who'd scaled the building, all so she could sit right beneath the moon.

"Hey," I uttered, swallowing a sigh of relief.

"Hey."

The sigh lodged in my throat. Small. Her voice was so small.

I peered over my shoulder into the empty restroom. It was unlikely that anyone else would venture into this building, but—"I can't really be in here."

"Okay," she whispered. And made no move to leave.

Her eyes were glazed as she hugged her knees to her chest, peering up at the handful of stars twinkling through wisps of cloud. She'd pushed her mask off her eyes, resting it on the top of her head like a crown, revealing smoky shadow and a thin flick of liner. The picture she painted as she stared up into the night was so lovely, so serene. It felt like a crime to disturb her.

But it wasn't like I was going to leave her alone on a roof.

Hoping for the best, I gripped the sides of the window, squeezing through the narrow opening. I'd thought the hardest part would be navigating the roof, but the slats were quite sturdy, the ridge wide enough for both of us to fit comfortably.

Sitting down next to her, I rested my back against the peak behind us just as she did. I tracked her gaze over the campus grounds, the party a blur of color and sound beneath us. "Watson."

"Bennet."

I indulged in a smile, nudging her shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing—"

"Don't." She startled at the interruption, gaze locking on mine. "You're sitting on a roof," I drawled, lips curving, "in the middle of a party. It isn't nothing."

She blinked up at me again, blue eyes wide.

The laugh she released sounded the way I imagined a pixie's would; all light and bright, bursting with secret mischief. My smile broadened at the sound, and I waited while she composed herself.

"I just ... I know I shouldn't talk about him around you."

Him. Eli.

"What?" Icy shock flooded me. "Why would you think that?"

She grimaced, looking down at her hands.

I tried not to read too much into her expression, into what she'd said and what it could mean. "Madison ... we're friends. You can talk to me about anything. About anyone." And I meant it. The thought of Eli ... God. My hands balled into fists at the mention of his name. But he was a part of Madison's past. A part of her still healing heart. And I didn't want her to censor any part of herself around me. "I need you to know that. Nothing is off limits with us. Nothing. Okay?"

Her nod was too hesitant.

"Hey." I dipped my head, trying to capture her downcast eyes. "Talk to me."

She shook her head again. "There's nothing to say. Nothing new, I mean. It's just ... some days are harder than others."

I nodded. She put on a brave face most of the time, but I could always tell the difference between her real smile and her forced one, or hear when her laugh didn't sound quite right. She was trying to move past everything, but healing wasn't linear.

"Okay." I settled back against the roof, not sure what the right thing to say was. "But if you change your mind—"

"I know."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

I hoped she meant it. But I wouldn't push her. Ever.

We sat in silence as the party raged below, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Wasn't awkward. Nothing ever was with her. We could be sitting in silence, or pouring our hearts out to one another, or bickering about something dumb ... It didn't matter. There was no such thing as too much time with her, no such thing as a dull, uncomfortable moment.

"You can call me Madi, you know."

My heart was doing that stupid flipping thing again.

"Madison's lost its appeal?" I didn't dare admit that I liked having a name for her all of my own.

"Mmh." She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, and I had to tear my eyes away. "How about ... Madi when I'm good, Madison when I'm bad?"

I was extremely intrigued by what, exactly, her idea of being bad entailed. Whether it involved that whip.

"Then I think I'll stick to Madison." I grinned. "For convenience's sake."

I braced myself to be slapped. Kind of relished the idea of it.

When her slap didn't come, when silence reigned again, I turned to look at her, resting my head on the slanted incline behind us.

And found her eyes overflowing with tears.

I jerked toward her. "Madi—"

"I'm a bad person."

Everything in me stilled.

Until a sob cracked out of her. Until she buried her head in her lap, her muffled cries the only thing I could hear.

Realization dawned. Snaked through me like poison.

"Oh, god. Madison ..." Idiot. I was such a prize idiot. Trust me to make the girl I liked cry. No—sob. I shuffled closer, not even thinking before the instinct to cradle her in my arms took over. "I was joking. Please don't cry. Of course you're not bad—"

She drew a shaky breath, curling in on herself and away from me. "No. You're right. I've done such awful, horrible things. Such bad things. To you, and to ... Oh, god, to Dex."

Frozen. It was like I was paralyzed, like the world stopped turning. I could only watch her shield her face behind her hair, watch her body tremble with the force of everything she'd swallowed back. Everything eating at her. Not Eli. This regression wasn't about Eli. Not really.

Waves of words crashed out of her, one on top of the other, interwoven with tears. "I can't look at him sometimes. Or you, or Noah. Not without remembering what I did. What I justified. Why? Because of what other people did to me? That's not fair. Because I was scared of getting hurt again? That's not fair."

Every sob, every swing she took at herself seared through my chest. "Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart. Everyone. But you're not a bad person." How could she think she was? How, after everything she'd been through, after all the reassurances Dex, Noah, and I had showered her with couldn't she cut herself some slack?

Because the expectations she placed on herself were higher than they should be, I realized. Because she'd been hurt and betrayed by the people she loved most in the world and couldn't stand feeling like she'd hurt anyone else in the same way. Because Madison felt things more than most people did. Not just the kind of heartbreak that'd forced her to close herself off in the first place, but guilt and anger and self-loathing, too. Because she'd been conditioned by Eli to think that she was the bad guy. That she was to blame for everything that went wrong in every situation. The rest tore me to shreds, but that last one ... I'd never forgive her ex for that.

"You're so hard on yourself." I felt an urge to pull her against my side, to wrap my arms around her, and didn't fight it. One hand stroked her arm, the other tried to find her face inside her cocoon of golden waves. "I hate it."

She shook her head, her face still resting on her knees. She'd gone stiff in my embrace, almost like she was afraid to fall into it. Like ... like she didn't think herself worthy of being held. "I just ... I feel so dark. And you're all so light. I don't deserve it." Tension erupted out of her, her whole body shuddering. I rubbed her back, stroked her hair, tried to will warmth into her. "I don't deserve you being here with me when you could be down there. You should be down there, James."

"You deserve—" The world. I drew a deep breath, focusing on everything she'd said, one at a time. First thing was first; she couldn't think that she was alone. "We've all been where you are."

She finally lifted her face from her knees, black shadow streaking her cheeks. And damn it if she still wasn't the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. "You have?"

I wrapped my hand in my sleeve, wiping the smudged makeup away, and nodded. "I won't go into detail about the other guys. I'm sure they'll tell you themselves. But when I tore my ACL, I had to wave my dreams of going pro goodbye. I went from having everything laid out for me to having nothing. My whole future was just ... gone."

Something flashed in her gleaming eyes. Yeah. She knew what that felt like.

"I didn't know who I was without it—without that goal, that identity spurring me along." I shook my head, recalling the darkness, the emptiness, the hollow ache in my chest where my dreams had been. "I was miserable. But Dex and Noah, they were always just ... there. No matter how many times I tried to push them away, they kept reaching out. Kept trying to make me laugh again. Until, one day, I found a new goal. A new dream. Because I had the support system around me to build me up again, to help me get to a place where I wanted to find it."

She sat still, letting me clean the moisture from her cheeks. I almost couldn't look in her eyes, couldn't take all the devastation and guilt pooling there. I wanted to remind her—she wasn't a bad person, because bad people didn't admit they made mistakes. Didn't feel or look like this for months after admitting it. Bad people didn't go above and beyond trying to right their wrongs despite every person around them telling them that they'd done more than enough. That they were more than enough.

"You don't have to do that for me," she finally murmured, turning away. "You don't have to—"

"I'm not here because I have to be." My voice was stern. It had to be. She had to understand. "Neither is Dex or Noah. Or Kara. Believe it or not, Madison, we care about you. A lot. Because you're actually quite lovable." I placed my finger on her cheek, turning her face so she met my eye. "Even when you're being a disagreeable pain in the ass."

That joke, thank god, landed better than the first. Her features softened.

Everything in me longed to pull her closer. To kiss her tears away. To kiss her, to prove just how worthy and lovable she was with more than words. I swallowed it all back, because that wasn't right. Wasn't fair.

I settled for catching her tear as it slid down her cheek, brushing my knuckle against her warm skin. "You'll find sunshine again. A new kind of sunshine. I know you will, because you're so brave and so strong. And I'll be here every step of the way. We all will."

Her breathing slowed, weaving with mine. Her wet lashes lowered, and she finally did it. Finally let herself melt into my embrace. I ran my hand up and down her sleeve, the warmth I knew came from being around her spreading through my chest and easing some of the pain seeing her cry had put there.

She rested her head on my shoulder. "I think you're my best friend, James."

Fuck. Something inside of me cracked wide open. Because I knew. Knew how hard it was for her to say things like that. To be vulnerable.

Against the crown of her head, I murmured, "You're mine."

She made a sound that hinted at doubt, that made me think she didn't believe me. But it was as true as everything else I'd said. Sure, Dex and Noah were my childhood best friends. They were more than that; they were my brothers. But Madison ... we weren't meeting as kids on the playground, bonding over cartoons and games of tag. We were meeting as the people we were now. As the adults we were becoming. There was no need to slip into a role around her, to act in accordance with long-settled expectations. Ours wasn't a friendship of convenience or familial ties, but one of complete choice. Whether it grew, or stayed stagnant, or fizzled—that was our choice. The fact that we kept drifting toward one another, that it always seemed to be her and me at the end of every night, that there were things I wanted to tell her that I didn't feel comfortable sharing with anyone else ... To me, those were the choices that took what we had and wrapped it in something too special to be anything less than the best kind of friendship.

I held her until she stopped shivering, listening to the pattern of her breath. My hand explored the length of her arm, my fingers etching mindless patterns into her sleeve. Only—not mindless. I didn't realize what I'd written until I finished the last letter.

Worthy.

I hoped she'd find it within herself to believe it.

She stirred against me. "That girl you were talking to ..." She trailed off, and I peered down to find her scrunching her nose. "Batgirl."

Suffice to say, it took me a few seconds to catch on to what she was referring to. Shay.

I grinned. "Ah. Your nemesis."

Her frown deepened, her expression one of pure confusion when she looked up at me with puffy, gleaming eyes.

I pulled at the latex on her arm, running my gaze over her costume as a reminder.

The color blooming on her cheeks was half-realization, half-embarrassment. Wholly adorable. "Right."

I chuckled against her, tangling my fingers in a silken curl. A cloud passed over the moon, bathing us in silvery light.

Madison whispered, "She's pretty."

"Maybe." The words poured out too quickly. "But she's not you."

She went rigid.

My wandering fingers paused.

Quietly, timidly, she captured my gaze. Considered whatever the hell beamed back at her there. Probably more than was wise of me to let her see.

Time moved fast.

One minute, Madison was under my arm, her head on my shoulder, the next ... Jasmine and coconut cradled me, and she was twisting. Rising. Until she was straddling me. Until one breath too deep would have her chest brushing mine. Her hands were exploring my torso, my shoulders, and then they were around my neck, her fingers plunging into my hair.

The breath I took went nowhere. Did nothing. But flame sparked under her touch.

"James." Her voice slid over me, stretching my skin over my bones.

"Madison," I breathed back. Not wise. Not smart.

She hummed in approval, the sound vibrating beneath the hands I'd placed on her waist to steady her. She lowered her face, her mouth caressing the shell of my ear. "Can I tell you something?"

No. I should say no. "Anything."

"Sometimes ... I think about what it would be like. To be with you."

My eyes widened. She couldn't mean—

"I think you'd want to be gentle. But I think ... I think I'd want you to be rough." Her teeth grazed my earlobe. She nipped it. "I think I'd feel safe with you."

Heat and desire drenched my body until my blood was little more than liquid fire. "Madison ..."

Her mouth fell to my throat, and my fingers curled on her waist. I felt her smile against me, felt her chest become flush with mine. That beautiful chest hidden beneath too-thin latex that hugged her curves like a taunting, teasing glove.

"I have so many ideas, James." She pressed a light kiss to my jaw. Did it again. "There's so much I want to do to you, so much I want you to do to me. I want you everywhere. I want you to take me everywhere."

Tension pooled inside of me, blood rushing and roaring and—

I was a bad friend. I was a terrible fucking friend.

Madison rolled her hips, and I groaned. My whole body ached with the stillness I forced into it. Burned and begged me to move, to find any source of friction. "God, Madison—"

"Madi." Her fingers tightened in my hair. She pulled her hand back, lifting my face. I hadn't realized I'd closed my eyes until the sheer force of the movement had them flying open. Hers had darkened—darkened in a way that if I wasn't already sitting down, would have brought me to my knees. "Madi," she commanded again, harsher. "Say it."

As if I could refuse her.

I swallowed. "Madi."

Her answering smirk—nothing short of feline—was reward enough. But then her mouth was back at my ear, one hand still bunched in my hair, the other moving down my chest. Moving so low I knew I wouldn't be able to just sit there much longer, wouldn't be able to just take because I'd have to give, too.

"Do you think about me?" Her voice was breathy and fierce, soft but firm, nuzzling me gently at the same time as it stripped me bare. "Do you think about us?"

I gritted my teeth to keep the confession in—that I couldn't get through a single day without thinking about her. About us. That I thought about what she'd feel like, taste like, sound like. That it was torture to be around her and not touch every inch of skin she bared. She'd sweep her hair into a ponytail and my fingers would ache with the desire to glide up the column of her neck, my lips and tongue tingling with the need to follow their wicked path. I'd picture it—the way I'd take my time with her. I had to see and hear how she reacted when I touched each part of her, had to know what she enjoyed most so I could do it again and again. I wanted to spend years worshipping her, but sometimes—like when she was straddling my lap in a little black catsuit—I wondered how I'd be able to last a damn minute.

My mind was running in circles, darting out of one fantasy and into the next, but I'd gone deathly still, deathly quiet. She was still waiting—and Madi wasn't anything if not impatient.

"James?" she prodded, her hand sliding lower.

I swallowed a groan. Wrong. This was wrong. I shouldn't have let things go this far, should have plucked her off my lap as soon as she sat down—

Her hand found its target, its caress delicious torture. "James—"

"Yeah," I croaked. Cleared my throat, and still my voice was pure gravel when I admitted, "I think about you. About us."

"When?"

"All the time."

"At night?"

I released a shaky breath. She pulled my hair harder.

I nodded.

The noise she made was kindling. Fuel. She pressed another kiss to my jaw. "Good boy."

I didn't get time to close my eyes, to give into the shudders that threatened to ripple over me. Her face hovered in front of mine. She pounced.

Her kiss was pure fire, was flame and desire that burned so hot I could taste her need on her tongue. It was possession and submission, and there was only this. Only her and her kiss, only her mouth and her tongue and her teeth, tasting and exploring and biting, and I was in deep shit. I was in such deep, unrelenting shit.

I was grappling for sanity, grappling for control—but only found that I wanted to give it all to her. She angled my face so her tongue plunged deeper, like she was marking me, claiming me, like she was learning how to make her name the only word that ever left my mouth. Seconds. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds. But enough. She was enough. More than enough.

She tore her mouth from mine, and it seemed like it was as great an effort for her as it had been for me to just sit there, to suppress every urge inside of me that wanted to flip her underneath me, to take her on that roof with only the moon and stars as witness. But ... no. Never like this.

A small part of her must have known. She cradled my face between her hands, her breathing so frantic it made me realize that mine was, too. We sat there, staring at one another, our breath twining in a dance of mist and want and heat, and if I hadn't known how much she had to drink, I would've sworn she was completely sober. Completely her own. Her eyes had never looked so focused, so sure.

My world was her eyes, her parted lips, the promise of her smooth skin beneath my fingers. And in that eternity where it was just her and just me, her thumbs swept over my cheeks, her voice cracking when she whispered, "Don't give up on me."

There was fear in her voice. In her touch. In the way she held me like she was scared I'd let go.

Regaining some of the control I'd lost—no, relinquished—I wove my fingers through hers, holding her to me so she knew. "Never."

Tears lined her eyes. Not heartache. Not guilt. Relief. I shook my head, because it wasn't fair. Wasn't fair that someone so worthy was so afraid of being abandoned. Of having people leave her behind.

Tightness clogged my throat, and I released her hands, wrapping my arms around her and gently pulling her against me. She buried her head between my shoulder and my neck, and I slid my hand to her nape, working the tension there. My heart raced against her chest, but I didn't care anymore. In that moment, I wouldn't shield the way I felt about her. I needed her to know. To feel. Worthy, worthy, worthy.

I didn't know how long we sat like that, her resting against my chest, my fingers gliding up and down her neck and playing with her hair while I contemplated how to bottle that moment. Long enough for the fire inside of me to cool, for my sanity to slowly thread itself back together. For me to know that my conscience was going to beat me into oblivion for letting what happened happen, that I was seriously going to have to work on tightening my shackles if I ever stood a chance of being the friend to her I'd promised to be. Better. I had to be better.

"Come on," I ground out, hating the words before I'd spoken them. "Let's get you back to your room."

Time moved quickly again. She sat up. Her lips settled in a pout. Before I could question it, she reached out, gently rubbing the skin near my mouth. "I ruined your face paint."

I laughed softly, trying to clean up the combination of smudged lipstick and paint on her lips. "I look stupid, anyway."

"No you don't. You're beautiful, James."

My eyes rose to find hers. I didn't know if she even realized she'd said it. But she had, and my stupid, aching heart wouldn't let me forget it. Not even when she finally stood, when I gripped her hand tight as we aimed for the window. As I climbed through the opening, then helped ease her through, and just before we stepped out of the bathroom, her whole face lit with fear and she raced for the nearest cubicle. And finally made good on the warning she'd given me on the lawn.

I settled behind her in the stall, gathering her hair from over her face with one hand, rubbing her back with the other. She apologized profusely. Told me it was okay if I wanted to leave. And I profusely reminded her that she had nothing to apologize for. That I'd never leave.

Her room wasn't empty when we made it back. A girl Dex knew from the college paper was lying on her stomach on Kara's bed, looking at something on her phone. She rose to a sitting position when we entered.

"Wrong room," I teased.

Aubrey rolled her almond eyes, fiddling with the pearl necklace she'd weaved into her mermaid costume. "Shay claimed our room for the night. The girl she's with said I can sleep here."

Oh.

Oh.

I turned to help Madi settle on her bed, hiding a small smile. The devil worked hard, but Kara worked harder.

Aubrey tilted her head, her expression softening. "Is that Madison Watson?"

I unzipped Madi's boots one at a time, tucking them under the bed. "You know her?"

"She's in my bio class. Is she ... okay?"

I noticed she'd moved closer to us. That her stare swung between me and a very sleepy Madison. That she was suddenly eyeing me quite warily.

And I really, really liked her for that.

"She's had a bit to drink." I aimed for the door. "I'll grab her some water. But since you're staying here anyway, would it be okay if you kept an eye on her tonight?"

"Of course."

"James?"

My attention darted back to Madi. She was curled up on her side, her hands tucked under her head.

I walked back over to her, kneeling by the bed. "What is it, sweetheart?"

She threw a cautionary glance at Aubrey, who turned away to give us a sense of privacy. Still, I saw her watching our reflections in Kara's mirror. Yeah. I liked her. I hoped their acquaintanceship would blossom into friendship. Because that was a friend Madi deserved to have.

I removed Madi's cat ears, then her mask, careful not to snag her hair on the winged edges. "Madi?"

"I just ..." Her lashes lowered, shadows dancing on her face. More to her pillow than to me, she whispered, "I think you're my new sunshine."

I watched her snuggle into her sheets, the warmth in my chest flaming. Spreading. It was a different kind of blaze from before, from when she'd claimed my mouth with hers. But I wondered—whether it was just as good. Whether I was worthy.

I grabbed a woven blanket from the foot of her bed, careful not to disturb her as I draped it over her and her chest began to rise and fall deeply. And maybe because I knew she couldn't hear me, or because she wouldn't remember it tomorrow, or because I'd spent too long bottling up everything I felt about her and it threatened to erupt in the kind of disgustingly gushy poetry that would put Dex to shame, I bowed my head lower.

"You're mine." I kissed her forehead. "Madi, you're mine."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡

I hope you guys enjoyed the first bonus chapter! I can't tell you how long I've been sitting on this, and how many times I almost said "screw it" and posted it early. I have a couple of other bonus chapters planned, including another James pov if you're interested. Definitely leave me your requests if you haven't already >>

How are you guys celebrating Halloween?

And what costume would you wear to Camden's mixer?

With love,

Danielle x