Fortuitous || Jack Steele [1]

sixty

Madelyn's POV.

It's fair to say it took me awhile to fully recover from that hangover.

Despite Blondie's kind gesture, I wasn't quite able to make it out of the blankets. So because of that I spent all day in bed and according to Bytes a lot of the other boys did the same.

Bytes told me that many of the guys didn't have as good as a hangover as me. A lot of them puked their guts out which I'm incredibly glad didn't happen to me.

Lucky me just slept away the migraine and the light sensitivity with a nice long nap. Now I feel good as new, especially after a nice hot shower.

I rub my wet hair with a towel thoroughly so it dries. As I do so my eyes automatically land on Jack's shirt which hasn't moved since I found it yesterday morning.

I haven't touched it because I've been wasted and I don't know what to even do with it. Jack has made no attempt to retrieve it but he'll get it back in time.

I know that I'll have to initiate a conversation with him. I need to know what happened after the Giants win because I can only remember parts of it. I need to know what the missing pieces are.

I'm still frustrated with him because of his stupid decisions but my desire to know is pretty big.

Deep down I don't think his intentions with being in my apartment, or on the beach, were bad. There was nothing from what I recall that was meant to harm me. If anything it was the opposite but I need confirmation on that.

I want to believe it was because he truly cared but he's proven he hasn't before. He's proven he doesn't care for my feelings or my genuine affection I've shown to him. I won't get my hopes up. Not again. Not this time.

Once my hair is dried and brushed, I throw on a hoodie and exit my room. In the hallway I spot Max leaving his own apartment so of course I go up to him.

"How'd the hangover treat you, Dumber?" I snigger, elbowing him in the side.

My brother looks at me with a slightly tired expression, traces of a hangover still in his system. He certainly hit the drinks hard.

"It felt like I got ran over by a bus. And you were the one driving it," he says blandly. I snicker at him which only increases the scowl on his face.

Max goes to walk past me so he can go downstairs but I press my palms to his chest, stopping him. He looks down at me with mild annoyance.

"Mum said I need to take care of you," I remind him, smiling. His expression goes even more annoyed than it already was.

"I don't need—"

"Ah ah," I cut him off. "Go to your room." I point at the door with a stern face.

"Mads, I'm not going to my—"

"Go to your room," I interject again firmly.

"But—" When will he learn that I'm just going to keep cutting him off.

"Room, I said." His head drops and he complies, going back inside his apartment without a word. I smirk when the door shuts.

I track down the hall to the elevators and head downstairs to get some food.

When I enter the dining area I have this cheeky smile on my face. A few of the boys look at me funnily but I just ignore them and head straight to the breakfast buffet. I catch Jack taking a checking glance at me.

I just tilt my head somewhat and pull a face mixed with confusion, unsureness and interest as I try to figure him out. My gaze is interrupted by Bytes.