Page 17 of Made for Mayhem

That did something to me. The quiet kind of care I only accepted from my sister—and even then, reluctantly.

I took it, fingers brushing his for half a second longer than necessary, and pulled it over my head. It swallowed me in the best way—soft, warm, oversized in all the right places. It smelled like him—clean soap and cold air, with a faint trace of pine that felt out of place in the city.

“Better,” he said with a quick nod.

I tugged the sleeves down over my hands. “Won’t you be cold now?”

He shook his head. “No. Cold was kind of a constant growing up. I’m used to it.”

“Well, thank you,” I said as we stepped back outside. The wind still had teeth, but it didn’t cut as badly bundled in his hoodie. I glanced up, noticing the sky had shifted from black to charcoal, the edges of night softening like it was preparing to give way.

Huddy checked his watch, then looked back at me. “We should probably head home.”

The word should lingered between us, heavy and reluctant.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess time caught up with us.”

He ordered a car without ceremony, phone already in hand.

“Where to?” he asked, passing it to me.

I typed in my new address, a knot forming in my chest as soon as I hit confirm. Finality had a way of sneaking up on me like that.

The car pulled up soon after, not giving me any time to reconsider this.

Inside, the city blurred past the windows, streetlights streaking gold across the glass. The quiet between us felt heavier than any of our confessions all night. Not awkward, but weighted like we were both holding something fragile, unsure where to set it down.

I tugged his hoodie tighter around me, all too aware that this was slipping toward an ending I hadn’t agreed to yet.

I shouldn’t feel like this, I told myself.

I’d known him for hours. Not days. Not weeks. Hours.

He hadn’t promised anything. Hadn’t even tried to push past the edges of tonight. And that was what I’d asked for, right?

Just companionship on a lonely night. Innocent and uncomplicated.

So why did my chest ache like I was about to lose something important?

I glanced over at him. Huddy stared out the window, jaw set, mustache catching the glow of passing lights. Still solid. Still calm. Still not reaching for me.

And maybe that was the problem.

If he’d flirted harder, I could’ve dismissed this as chemistry. If he’d tried to kiss me again, I could’ve chalked it up to attraction. But he hadn’t. Instead, Huddy stayed exactly where he was—present, steady, respectful.

Dangerous in a different way.

I swallowed, my instinct screaming at me to be the one who left first. To step out clean before this turned into something that hurt far worse than I was prepared for. Leaving was easier than being left.

The car slowed, and I frowned, peering out the window.

This wasn’t my street.

Instead, we rolled to a stop beside dark sand and an endless stretch of water, the lake barely visible in the thin, pre-dawn light. The horizon was just beginning to soften, night loosening its grip.

I turned to Huddy, confused. “Uh—this isn’t⁠—”

“I know,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Truth or dare, Daisy?”