Chapter 19

The party noise surged again, muffled but insistent beyond the door, a reminder of the world still turning outside this room. Rowan didn’t move. Lila’s fingers traced idle patterns along the nape of her neck, light enough to raise goosebumps but heavy with intent.

“Say something,” Lila said finally, voice low.

Rowan swallowed. “What do you want me to say?”

Lila’s thumb brushed the hinge of Rowan’s jaw. “The truth.”

Rowan hesitated. The truth was coiled tight in her chest, sharp-edged and dangerous. The truth was that she’d memorized the way Lila walked weeks ago, the precise tilt of her hips, the way she always tucked her hair behind her left ear when she was nervous. The truth was that she’d been lying to herself for longer than she cared to admit.

Before she could speak, Lila’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, the vibration humming between them. They both ignored it.

“Later,” Lila murmured, leaning in until their lips brushed again, barely there. A tease. A test.

Rowan caught her wrist before she could pull back. “No,” she said, rough but clear. “Now.”

Lila stilled. For a heartbeat, Rowan thought she’d mis stepped, that the moment would shatter like glass under too much pressure. Then Lila exhaled, slow and deliberate, and turned her hand in Rowan’s grip until their fingers tangled together.

“Okay,” she said. “Now.”

The word settled between them like a promise or maybe a challenge. Rowan wasn’t sure yet. But for the first time all night, she wasn’t afraid to find out.

Lila’s fingers tightened around hers, anchoring her in place as the music outside swelled. The rhythm pulsed through the floorboards, vibrating up through Rowan’s bones like a heartbeat. She could feel the exact moment Lila decided, the slight shift in her stance, the way her breath hitched before she spoke again.

“Tell me,” Lila said, softer now, “what you’ve been thinking all night.”

Rowan hesitated. The air between them felt charged, thick with the scent of spilled beer and Lila’s citrus shampoo. She could lie, could deflect like she always did but Lila’s gaze held hers, steady and unrelenting.

So, Rowan told her. Not with words, but with the press of her mouth against Lila’s, slow and deliberate this time. It wasn’t an answer, exactly, but it was a start.

Lila made a sound low in her throat, fingers tightening in Rowan’s hair as she pulled her closer. 

The kiss tasted different now. Less frantic, more weighted. Rowan could feel the shape of Lila’s quiet moan against her lips, the way her body arched into the touch like she was chasing something.

Outside, someone shouted, a burst of laughter cutting through the music, but the noise felt distant, irrelevant. Rowan mapped the curve of Lila’s ribs with her palms, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the thin fabric of her shirt. Every exhale between them was shared now, every shift of weight deliberates.

When Lila’s teeth caught her lower lip, not quite a bite, but close enough that Rowan felt it everywhere. The sensation sparked down her spine, sharp and electric, and she chased it instinctively. Her hands found purchase on Lila’s hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The contact was dizzying, overwhelming in the best way like finally stepping into sunlight after months of cold.

Lila’s laughter was barely a breath against Rowan’s mouth. Soft, disbelieving. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, but her fingers were already tugging at the hem of Rowan’s shirt, slipping beneath the fabric. The contrast made Rowan’s pulse stutter. The familiarity of it, the ease, like they’d already mapped every inch of each other’s skin.

Rowan could hear the hitch in Lila’s breathing when her fingers traced the dip of her waist, could feel the way her muscles tensed under the touch. It was intoxicating, this silent conversation, every gasp, every shudder translating into something raw and honest between them. The air was thick with it now, heavy with the scent of sweat and something floral like lavender crushed underfoot.

And then, abruptly, devastatingly, Lila pulled back just enough to meet Rowan’s gaze. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips swollen from kissing, but her voice was steady when she spoke. 

“Tell me,” She repeated, quieter now, almost a whisper. Rowan could feel the words against her skin, could taste them on her tongue, sharp and sweet and inevitable.

Rowan exhaled, shaky, and let her forehead drop against Lila’s shoulder. The fabric smelled like detergent and something faintly floral, incongruously domestic against the heat of their bodies. 

She could feel Lila’s heartbeat where their chests pressed together fast, but not frantic. Like she wasn’t afraid. Like she’d already decided.

“You scare me so bad-,” Rowan muttered, half into her skin. “This scares me so bad.” 

Lila looks at Rowan softly, fingers trailing up Rowan’s spine. “I promise there isn’t anything to be scared of pretty girl.” Lila says softly, eyes becoming glossy “I promise Rowan.”