Kiss Me Captain (Emily and Maddie) novel Chapter 62

[Maddie’s POV]

I wake to early morning light and Emily’s arms wrapped around me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear. For one perfect moment, I let myself exist in this—warm, safe, loved. Her breath steady on my neck, the weight of her body against mine.

Then reality crashes back. Derek’s threats. My parents’ suspicions. The lie about Derek being my boyfriend. Everything waiting outside this bubble we’ve built.

Emily stirs, her arms tightening before she opens her eyes. When she sees me watching her, she smiles—small and sleepy and beautiful. For a second, I want to stay in this bed forever, pretend the world outside doesn’t exist.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, her voice rough with sleep. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my arm as she comes back to consciousness, to reality, to all the things we’ve been avoiding.

“Everything. Derek. My parents. All of it. We need to make a decision, Em.” I say with conviction I don’t feel. “About coming out, about what we’re doing, about how we handle this before it handles us.”

Emily’s quiet for a moment, studying my face like she’s looking for cracks. Finally she nods, and I can see she’s been thinking the same thing. “I know. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

We get up, and Emily makes coffee while I grab mugs. But today feels different, weighted with the knowledge that we’re about to make decisions that will change everything. We sit at our small desk, laptops pushed aside, coffee steaming between us. War council vibes, but make it gay and terrifying.

“Okay.” Emily wraps both hands around her mug. “Let’s think through this logically. What are our options?”

“Option one—do nothing. Wait for Derek to make his move.” The easiest and the most terrifying one goes first.

“Living in constant fear? Hard pass.” Emily’s already shaking her head. “We’d be jumping at every notification.”

“Option two: convince Derek to keep quiet.” I suggest, although I have no idea how we actually can do that. Emily seems to agree with my inner conflict.

“With what leverage?” She scoffs, and I hate that I agree. “He’s already expelled, facing assault charges. The guy’s burned every bridge.”

She’s right. I move to option three, stomach clenching. “Or we come out ourselves. Control the narrative before Derek can weaponize it.”

Emily sets down her coffee and reaches for my hand. “That’s the only one that gives us any power.”

“It terrifies me. Like, genuinely makes me want to fake my own death and move to Canada levels of terrified.” I admit through clenched teeth, because it’s still not easy. Her warmth placates me, but not enough to actually quell the well of anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

“How would we do it?” Emily’s thumb traces circles on my palm. “What would that even look like?”

“Parents first.” She puts her fingers down with each bit. “Before social media, before we accidentally come out via synchronized Instagram post. They deserve to hear it from us. Not from Derek. From us, when we’re ready.”

Emily nods, something like terror passing her face. “I should tell my mother in person. Face to face.” We didn’t actually talk about that, about how her mother could react. But she was always the type to deal with issues as they arise, and not worry herself to death beforehand.

Contrary to me… “I need to tell my parents too.” Nausea rises. “But the thought makes me want to join a convent. Do they let gay people in convents?”

“When?” Emily asks, not taking the bait. Damn. Rude. She could’ve indulged me a little bit.

I force myself to think practically. “Next weekend? Give ourselves a week to prepare.”

“We should tell our parents separately,” Emily says, nods, as if she already decided that. As much as I hate confronting them on my own, she’s right. “Give each conversation space.”

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