Drawn Spots (Chapter 32)

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Madison's POV:

The sunlight streaming through the thin curtains made me squint, dragging me out from sleep. 

I blinked a few times, groaning softly as I tried to shake off the grogginess. 

The house was quiet—eerily so, considering how loud our group could be. The clock on the bedside table read a little after 10 AM, but judging by the warm light filling the room, it was already well into the morning.

I stretched, getting up and walking into the bathroom. Gran Lizzy's house was a bit older, but the beds were more comfortable than I expected. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since last night.

The second I walked into the kitchen, the smell of coffee hit me, and I was greeted by Em, who was already sitting at the counter with a steaming mug in hand.

"Morning," she chirped, way too cheerful for someone who woke up this early. "Or should I say afternoon?"

I blinked at her, confused. "Afternoon?"

She nodded, "You missed breakfast. I didn't want to wake you. You looked like you were out cold."

I grabbed a mug and poured myself some coffee, the others no where to be seen, "Thanks for the heads-up," I muttered, taking a sip.

"Everyone's outside, by the way. Gran Lizzy fed us breakfast and left to go say bye to a friend or something. I think the guys are trying to figure out what to do."

"Great." I rubbed my temples, "Did they get anywhere?"

She smirked. "Jake was talking about a intense Blind Drawing rematch. Apparently, Kaleb isn't taking the loss from last time too well."

At the mention of West, my heart did a weird little flip.

I shook it off, pretending not to care, but I could still feel the way the room seemed to get a little warmer just thinking about him. 

Last night had been... interesting, to say the least. The teasing, the playful back-and-forth—it was starting to feel like more than just arguments.

I grabbed my coffee and made my way outside to where the rest of the group was hanging out on the porch. 

Cole and Jake were sitting on the steps, deep in some conversation about football, while Lia and West were lounging on the outdoor couches.

I sat down next to Em, sipping my coffee and letting the warm sun hit my skin.

"So," Jake announced, clapping his hands together. "What's the plan for today? We've still got time before Gran Lizzy gets back."

"I'm down for whatever," Lia shrugged.

"Blind Drawing shit" West said casually, stretching his arms over his head, his shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. 

My eyes lingered for a second longer than they should have, and when I realized what I was doing, I quickly shifted my gaze. I could feel my cheeks heat up slightly.

Blind Drawing. 

The memories came rushing back. It was one of those silly games we had made up when we were kids, back when we thought we could invent our own secret game.

I remembered us all gathering in the living room. We would pair up in teams, one of us would wear a blindfold, and the other would attempt to guide them through a drawing, if the person blindfolded guessed what they were drawing that was a point for them, expect they had a time limit—only, at the time, we had no idea it was an actual game.

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