Page 14 of Mad for Madison (The Boys of Hudson Burrow #4)
Eighteen Months Later
Madison
I never would have imagined standing here. The loft I’d converted into my studio felt different tonight, as though the very walls knew this was a pivotal moment. Every painting I had poured myself into was waiting to be taken away, no longer mine but ready to face the world.
The centerpiece of the collection— Reverence —stood against the main wall, bathed in soft evening light. It was the first piece I’d painted after finishing Bradley , and its existence felt like the opening of a door I hadn’t known was locked. Sylvia Reed, the curator of the DiMarco Gallery, had told me this piece would anchor the entire exhibit, and I trusted her judgment more than I trusted my own.
Despite the warm summer evening, my palms felt cold and clammy. My breath hitched every time I thought about what was coming next: the crowd, the questions, the eyes on me.
The door creaked, interrupting the spiral of nerves.
“Knock, knock!” Bradley’s voice cut through my thoughts, light and familiar. He stepped in, his broad shoulders filling the doorway like a calming force. Lily skipped in behind him, holding something tightly in her hands.
“Madison!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “I made something for you!”
I crouched down as she barreled toward me, presenting the drawing like a priceless treasure. Her big brown eyes shone with pride.
It was a colorful chaos: swirls of marker and crayon, accented with glitter. Four stick figures stood beneath a brilliant yellow sun. I recognized myself immediately—my hair an exaggerated mess of curls—and Bradley and Lily flanking me, holding my hands. Next to Bradley, Dorothy held his other hand.
“This is amazing,” I said, grinning as I studied her handiwork. “You’ve outdone yourself, kiddo. This belongs in the gallery.”
She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands. “No, it doesn’t! Gran helped me with the glitter,” she added, her voice dropping like she was sharing a secret.
I glanced at Dorothy, who stood in the doorway, her presence as steady and grounding as ever. “Glitter teamwork, huh? That explains why it’s perfect.”
Lily nodded solemnly. “Gran said it’s good luck. You need it for tonight.”
My chest tightened, warmth spreading through me. I set the drawing on the table and pulled Lily into a hug, careful not to crush her in my arms. “You’re my lucky charm. This is the best gift ever.”
“Don’t squish her,” Bradley teased, his voice warm with affection.
“She’s tougher than she looks,” I shot back, grinning as Lily wriggled out of my grasp and started exploring the studio. Her tiny fingers hovered near a canvas, her curiosity on full display as she examined each piece like a miniature critic.
“She’s been excited about this visit all day,” Gran said, stepping into the room. “She’s your biggest fan.”
“And your competition,” Bradley added, smirking. “Better watch out.”
“She’ll have her own gallery opening in no time,” I said, catching Lily’s eye as she twirled in the center of the room.
Gran clapped her hands gently. “Come on, Lily. Let’s give Madison some time to prepare.”
Lily hesitated, her lower lip jutting out. “Do we have to?”
“Yes, darling,” Gran said kindly. “He’ll need every ounce of that good luck you gave him.”
Lily finally nodded, though she looked over her shoulder as Gran led her toward the door. “Bye, Madison! Good luck!”
“Bye, sweetheart. Thank you,” I called after her.
The door clicked shut, leaving the studio quieter, though the warmth they brought lingered.
Bradley leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched me. “You okay?”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Yeah. Just…a little nervous.”
He crossed the room in a few strides, his hands landing on my shoulders, warm and grounding. “You’ve got this,” he said, his voice low and steady.
His confidence in me was overwhelming. I covered one of his hands with mine, squeezing lightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Bradley smiled, a small, private thing that made my heart squeeze. “Lucky for you, you don’t have to find out.”
I laughed softly, leaning into him. “A year and a half ago, I couldn’t even picture this—any of it.”
He tilted his head, his gaze searching mine. “Neither could I.”
We stood there for a moment, the weight of everything we’d been through hanging between us—not heavy, but present, a reminder of how far we’d come.
By the time we arrived, the gallery was buzzing. The space was packed with people—critics, collectors, fellow artists, and friends. The lighting was soft and flattering, illuminating each piece in a way that made them feel alive.
Mama Viv was in full drag, admiring the painting of herself. It was a broody piece that played with the mirror from which she seemed to almost notice the painter standing behind her—or a ghost of someone long gone—and the sight froze her hand, lipstick almost touching her lips.
Tristan and Cedric stood with her, joking that I should be hired to paint the royal portraits for Cedric’s family in Verdumont.
Everett was glued to the painting of Roman, although Rome deliberately avoided looking at it. In it, Roman stood at the front of a blurry crowd of rebels, leading the revolution against whatever cause the viewer projected onto the canvas. It was a flatteringly heroic depiction, and Roman had been laughing about it ever since he’d first seen it.
Jett was there, too, with several actors I knew. Some of them had modeled for me when I needed to study different poses; others inspired me with their body shapes and their flaring personalities.
Luca was waiting near the centerpiece, a glass of champagne in hand and a grin on his face.
“There he is,” Luca said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “The man of the hour. You ready for this?”
“Not even a little,” I admitted, though my smile was genuine.
Luca chuckled, handing me a glass of champagne. “You’ll be fine. Just remember—you worked hard to get here.”
Bradley stayed close as we made our way through the crowd. He didn’t say much, but his presence was steady, his hand brushing against mine every now and then as if to remind me he was there.
The night passed in a blur of handshakes, compliments, and questions about my work. At some point, Sylvia Reed pulled me aside, her sharp eyes glinting with approval.
“This is just the beginning,” she said, her tone confident. “You’ve got something special, Madison. Don’t forget that.”
By the end of the night, my nerves had given way to a sense of pride and gratitude. This wasn’t just a milestone—it was the start of something bigger.
Back at the studio, the quiet was a welcome relief. I collapsed onto the couch, letting out a long breath.
“I think I’m officially drained,” I said, tilting my head back.
Bradley sat beside me, his knee brushing against mine. “You should be. You just had the night of your life.”
I turned to look at him, my heart swelling. “Thank you for being there. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice soft.
“I do,” I insisted. “None of this would’ve happened without you. You pushed me when I needed it. You believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.”
Bradley’s hand found mine, his fingers threading through mine. “You did this, Madison. All of it. I was just lucky enough to watch.”
I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want you there for all of it.”
He turned his head, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The promise in his voice was steady and sure, and as we sat there in the quiet of the studio, I felt it sink into my bones.
We had come so far—both of us. And while the road ahead was still uncertain, I knew one thing for sure: we’d walk it together. One step at a time, we would find a place to live together, us and Lily. We would visit Dorothy for Sunday lunch like a real family. She would babysit Lily whenever I took Bradley on a date, I knew. Slowly, our lives unfolded before my eyes. Slowly, I saw us all together, always growing older, wiser, better. My heart grew so much and so quickly that I simply couldn’t hold it in my chest any longer.
“I love you,” I said, the words simple but full of meaning.
Bradley smiled, his eyes bright. “I love you, too.”
It wasn’t the first time we’d said it, and it wouldn’t be the last. But tonight, it felt like the beginning of something new. Something extraordinary.
Want more? If you’re curious about Parrish and Levi or Austin and Luca, their stories are told in Destructive Relations and Explicit Transactions, and they’re Kindle-melting hot.
The End.