/Madison's POV/
"I'm sorry about that. I just—he must have been tiring. I didn't want him to come, but if I'd stopped him, he probably would have found some other means—"
"You really don't have to explain yourself to me. But sure, a heads-up would have been nice. It's okay, it's all good," I assured, running my fingers over the soft cotton sheet as I straightened it, the faint scent of laundry detergent rising to my nose.
"He doesn't seem like a bad guy. How much does he know though?" I got curious. I got on the bed and slipped under the covers, the cool fabric brushing against my skin as I settled with my back fully resting against the headboard.
Zane went quiet, so it was easy to guess. The quiet pressed in around us, thick and almost tactile.
"Everything, then?" I asked, noticing a slight twitch in his jaw.
