Chapter 28

They didn’t say where they were going at first.

It just… happened.

Rowan walked Lila to her car, their hands still loosely linked, neither of them willing to be the first to let go. The parking lot was almost empty now, the stadium lights buzzing overhead, casting long shadows across the pavement. The night felt quieter than it should have, like the world was holding its breath along with them.

Lila leaned against her car door but didn’t open it. Instead, she looked at Rowan with that careful expression she’d been wearing all evening, the one that said she was thinking ten things at once but only letting a few show.

“You, okay?” Rowan asked, voice low.

Lila nodded. Then hesitated. Then smiled, small and honest. “Yeah. I just… don’t really want to go home yet.”

Rowan felt something warm bloom in her chest. Relief. Want. A strange, grounding sense of rightness. “Me neither.”

The words sat between them for a second before Rowan added, almost casually, “You could come over. If you want. My parents are out, and it’s just… quiet.”

Lila’s eyes flicked up, surprised, but not hesitant. “Yeah,” she said. “I want that.”

The drive was short, filled with music turned low and glances stolen at red lights. Rowan kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting between them on the center console. Lila’s pinky brushed against her knuckles once, then again, until finally she laced their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Rowan didn’t pull away.

Her house was dark when they arrived, the porch light automatically clicking on as she unlocked the door. Inside, everything smelled familiar—clean laundry, faint citrus cleaner, the lingering comfort of home. Rowan kicked off her shoes, suddenly hyperaware of the intimacy of bringing someone into this space.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said, trying not to sound nervous.

Lila slipped off her jacket and set her keys down, glancing around with quiet curiosity. “Your place feels… very you,” she said.

Rowan laughed softly. “That’s not a compliment I hear often.”

“I mean it as one,” Lila replied, smiling.

They ended up in Rowan’s room without really discussing it, sitting side by side on the edge of her bed. The distance between them was small but deliberate, like they were both aware of how easily it could disappear.

For a while, they talked about nothing. Practice. Cheer competitions. A math test Lila was stressing about. Rowan listened, really listened, letting the normalcy of it settle her nerves.

Eventually, Lila’s voice trailed off. She stared at the floor for a moment before saying, “Can I ask you something?”

“Always,” Rowan said.

“Do you ever worry,” Lila began slowly, “that you’ll wake up and realize this is too complicated? Or that you’ll decide it’s easier not to try?”

Rowan didn’t answer right away. She turned fully toward Lila, knees brushing, and took her hands again: gentle, intentional.

“I worry about a lot of things,” Rowan admitted. “But not that.”

Lila looked up, searching her face.

“I’m bad at saying big things out loud,” Rowan continued, thumb tracing small circles over Lila’s skin. “But I’m not confused about you. I don’t want easy if it means not having this.”

Lila exhaled, something unsteady easing out of her. “Okay,” she whispered.

Rowan smiled, soft and crooked. “Okay.”

They leaned in at the same time, foreheads touching first, sharing breath. The kiss that followed was slower than before, unhurried and warm. No urgency, just reassurance. Lila’s hand slid up Rowan’s arm, resting over her shoulder like she belonged there.

When they pulled back, Lila laughed quietly. “This feels… safe.”

Rowan felt her chest tighten in the best way. “Good. Because that’s what I want to be for you.”

Lila’s fingers curled into the fabric of Rowan’s shirt as she pulls Rowan in again to deepen their kiss, the weight of her body pressing Rowan back against the mattress in a slow, inevitable tilt. 

But just as Rowan’s hands found the hem of Lila’s sweater, Lila broke away with a shaky breath, her forehead resting against Rowan’s. 

“Wait,” she murmured, voice unsteady but certain. “I want this so much, but I don’t want it to just… happen.” 

Rowan stilled, fingers loosening. “You mean you want—?” 

“I mean I want to remember it,” Lila interrupted softly. “Not just because we got carried away.”

Rowan exhaled, nodding, and let her hands settle on Lila’s waist instead. “Okay,” she said, and it wasn’t disappointment in her voice, it was something warmer, something like anticipation. 

“Then we wait.” 

Lila smiled, trailing a thumb over Rowan’s bottom lip. “You’re not upset?” 

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Are you kidding? Now I get to think about it.”

They shifted, lying side by side, shoulders and hips aligned under the dim glow of Rowan’s fairy lights. Lila traced idle patterns on Rowan’s palm while they talked about nothing, stupid TV shows, the awful cafeteria food, the way Rowan’s dog always stole socks. But then Lila stretched, arching slightly as she sighed, and the curve of her body pressed against Rowan’s in a way that made her breath hitch.

Rowan caught herself staring at Lila’s collarbone, at the way her sweater had slipped just enough to reveal skin, and she swallowed hard. Lila noticed. She always noticed.

“What are you thinking?” Lila murmured, rolling onto her elbow to study Rowan’s face with those dark, knowing eyes.

Rowan hesitated. Then grinned, sheepish. “That I really like torturing myself, apparently.”

Lila laughed, soft and warm, but her fingers curled gently into Rowan’s shirt again, not pulling, just holding. “Good,” she whispered. “Me too.”

The air between them thickened with something new, not just want now, but the quiet thrill of anticipation, the kind that lingers in stolen glances and half-smiles. Rowan rolled onto her side, propping her head on one hand while the other tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lila’s ear. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” she murmured, but there was no real complaint in it.

Lila’s gaze flicked down to Rowan’s lips, then back up, deliberate. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She shifted just enough to press a kiss to Rowan’s wrist, right where her pulse jumped. “I like you alive.”

Rowan exhaled, shaky. “Not fair.” But she was smiling when she said it, and when Lila settled against her, head tucked under Rowan’s chin, the weight of her felt like a promise not tonight, but soon.