Chapter 85

A few hours pass without anyone really clocking it.

The mimosas quietly turn into refills. The playlist shifts from soft background vibes to throwback songs that make everyone sing a little too loud. Empty plates get stacked on the counter. Sunlight moves slowly across the living room, catching on glassware and making the whole space feel warm and hazy.

Naomi is the first one to notice something’s off.

She squints at her phone like it personally betrayed her. “Hold on,” she says, blinking twice. “Why is it… this late?”

Simone leans over, peeks at the screen, then bursts out laughing. “Because, my dear entrepreneur queen, we’ve been drinking all morning.”

Lila groans from the other side of the couch, stretching out like a cat. “That explains why I feel emotionally vulnerable, slightly feral, and deeply invested in everyone’s happiness.”

Naomi drops her head back against the couch dramatically. “Same. But honestly? Worth it.”

She sits up, smoothing her hair back, suddenly a little more alert. “Okay. Reality check though—Rowan and Celeste are gonna be back soon.”

Simone raises an eyebrow. “Define ‘soon.’ Like five minutes or ‘we still have time for another round’ soon?”

Naomi considers it, then shrugs. “We definitely still have time for another round.”

Lila laughs. “I knew I liked you.”

Naomi stands, wobbling just a bit, then points a finger at both of them. “But listen—when they walk in, nobody is allowed to act weird.”

Simone smirks. “That feels impossible already.”

“I mean it,” Naomi says, laughing too. “No dramatic pauses. No ‘sooo we need to talk.’ Just vibes.”

Lila nods solemnly. “So… chaos, but contained.”

“Exactly,” Naomi says. “Controlled chaos.”

She glances toward the front door like she can feel the universe shifting. “Also—important announcement—if either of you brings up the penthouse thing in front of them, I will simply pass away on this couch.”

Simone grins. “I absolutely will bring it up.”

Naomi gasps. “You’re sick.”

“You offered,” Simone shrugs innocently.

Naomi sighs, sinking back down between them. “I don’t regret it. I just didn’t expect you to take it seriously.”

Lila laughs, nudging Naomi’s shoulder. “You’re a little generous when you’re drunk.”

Naomi smiles softly, looking at both of them. “I’m generous when I’m sober too. I just say it louder when I’m drunk.”

For a moment, the room settles again. Comfortable. Full. The kind of silence that only happens when people feel safe with each other.

Naomi exhales slowly. “Okay,” she says, smiling to herself. “No matter what happens when they get back… today was a good day.”

Simone raises her glass. “To day drinking and life-altering conversations.”

Lila clinks her glass against theirs. “And to whatever chaos walks through that door next.”

Naomi laughs, lifting her glass last. “Yeah. We’ll handle it.”

Somewhere outside, a car pulls up.

Naomi’s smile widens.

The sound of a car door slamming outside cuts through the music.

Naomi freezes mid-sip, eyes lifting toward the front of the house. For a split second she just listens—then a slow, knowing smile spreads across her face.

“…That’s them,” she says, voice warm and a little lazy from the alcohol.

Simone straightens immediately. “Everyone act normal.”

Lila snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Before Naomi can respond, keys jingle at the door. The lock turns. The door opens.

Celeste steps in first, sunglasses still on even though they’re inside, exhaustion etched into her posture but softened by the second her eyes land on Naomi. Rowan follows close behind, jacket tossed over her shoulder, hair slightly mussed, gaze sweeping the room before settling right where Naomi is sitting.

Both of them stop.

The living room tells a story.

Empty mimosa glasses scattered across the coffee table. Half-collapsed pizza boxes. A lingering citrus-and-champagne scent in the air. Simone and Lila perched on opposite ends of the couch—but leaning just a little too close. Naomi in the middle of it all, relaxed, glowing, unmistakably tipsy.

Rowan blinks once. “Did we miss… a party?”

Naomi grins at her, slow and unapologetic. “Depends. Were you invited?”

Celeste slides her sunglasses down just enough to look over them. “Why does it smell like champagne and poor decisions?”

Simone lifts her glass in greeting. “Because you left us alone.”

Lila adds sweetly, “And we thrived.”

Rowan laughs under her breath, shaking her head. “That tracks.”

Celeste drops her bag by the door and walks straight over to Naomi, cupping her face gently before pressing a kiss to her lips—soft, familiar, grounding. “I missed you,” she murmurs.

Before Naomi can even respond, Rowan leans in from the other side and kisses her too—brief but warm, confident, intentional. “Missed you,” she echoes.

Naomi’s smile goes a little lopsided, eyes glassy as she looks between them. “I missed you both,” she says, voice thick with emotion and alcohol. “So much.”

She pushes herself up off the couch a little too quickly and immediately stumbles.

Rowan’s hands are there before Naomi even realizes she’s off balance, steadying her at the waist. “Whoa. Easy,” Rowan says gently.

Naomi laughs and leans into her, wrapping her arms around Rowan in a full hug. “Thank you,” she murmurs, squeezing tight like she means more than just the balance.

Rowan chuckles, hugging her back. “You’re welcome.” She glances over Naomi’s shoulder at Celeste, amused. “Yeah… she’s definitely tipsy.”

Celeste laughs, shaking her head fondly. “I can see that.”

Naomi finally pulls back, swaying just slightly, still smiling like the world is exactly how she wants it. She looks around the room, at Simone and Lila, at the mess, at the half-empty glasses.

Celeste claps her hands once, slipping fully into the room now. “Alright,” she says, eyes bright with curiosity. “Someone catch us up.”

Simone and Lila exchange a look.

Naomi’s grin widens.

“Oh,” she says cheerfully. “Where do I even start?”

Naomi flops back down onto the couch like gravity finally remembered her, arms stretching out along the back as if she owns the entire moment.

“Okay,” she says, squinting up at the ceiling like she’s organizing her thoughts. “Timeline version or chaos version?”

“Chaos,” Rowan and Celeste say at the exact same time.

Simone points between them, laughing. “See? Already in sync.”

Naomi lets out a loose, tipsy laugh that bubbles up from her chest. “Alright—chaos it is.”

She sits up a little straighter, bracing herself with one hand on the cushion. “So. You two left,” she starts, nodding toward Rowan and Celeste. “And Simone and Lila showed up with mimosas. Which—rude, by the way—because I was still drunk from last night.”

“We were being supportive,” Simone says innocently.

“Mmhmm,” Naomi continues, waving her hand. “Then we talked. A lot. Feelings. Boundaries. Life. And Thailand.”

Celeste’s eyebrows shoot up. “Thailand?”

Rowan blinks. “Like… the country?”

Naomi points at Rowan proudly. “See? She gets it.”

Lila grins. “Girls trip. We decided.”

Rowan laughs, shaking her head. “I leave for one day.”

Naomi keeps going, clearly enjoying herself now. “Then Simone asked invasive questions—”

“I asked necessary questions,” Simone cuts in.

“—about relationships,” Naomi continues, ignoring her. “And then Lila dragged Simone into the other room for what they called a ‘conversation’ but was definitely not a conversation.”

Celeste’s mouth drops open. “You two—”

Simone clears her throat loudly. “We do not need to get into details.”

Naomi smirks. “Oh, we absolutely do. Just not right now.”

Rowan laughs so hard she has to lean back against the couch. “This house is dangerous.”

Celeste shakes her head, smiling despite herself. “Everything changes when we leave.”

Naomi’s expression softens as she looks between Rowan and Celeste, the humor settling into something warmer. “Nothing changed,” she says quietly. “It just… expanded.”

Rowan’s smile gentles. “That sounds like you.”

Celeste steps closer, resting a hand on Naomi’s knee. “Are you okay?” she asks softly. “Like—really?”

Naomi nods, eyes a little glossy but sincere. “Yeah. I am. Tired. Drunk. Emotional.” She smiles crookedly. “But good.”

Rowan crouches slightly in front of her, tilting her head. “You sure?”

Naomi reaches out and cups Rowan’s cheek, thumb brushing along her jaw with unfiltered affection. “I’m more than sure.”

Rowan exhales, visibly relaxing. “Okay. Good.”

Celeste glances around the room again—the empty glasses, the half-eaten food, the easy way everyone fits together now. “So,” she says lightly, “do we keep drinking or does someone need water?”

Naomi raises her hand immediately. “Water first. Then drinking.”

Simone nods approvingly. “Growth.”

Lila stands. “I’ll grab water.”

Rowan straightens up and grins. “I’ll help.”

Celeste watches them head toward the kitchen, then looks back at Naomi with a knowing smile. “You look happy.”

Naomi leans back into the couch, eyes following Rowan without even trying to hide it. “I am.”

Celeste’s smile softens. “Good.”

Naomi glances at her, mischief returning. “Also, just so you know—we planned a girls trip without you.”

Celeste gasps dramatically. “Betrayal.”

Naomi laughs. “You’re invited. Eventually.”

Celeste chuckles, shaking her head. “I should’ve known.”

From the kitchen, Rowan’s laughter drifts back into the room—light, easy, familiar. Glasses clink softly. Someone hums along to music playing low in the background.

Naomi closes her eyes for just a second, letting the sound wash over her.

Rowan and Lila return from the kitchen with tall glasses of ice water, condensation already pooling at the bottom and leaving faint rings on the table as they set them down.

“Hydration break,” Rowan announces lightly. “Doctor’s orders.”

Naomi takes hers, fingers wrapping around the glass like it’s grounding her. She drinks deeply, then exhales through her nose. When she looks up again, her gaze lingers—first on Rowan, then on Celeste. Something thoughtful flickers behind her eyes.

“Hey,” Naomi says, casual but deliberate. “Can I talk to you two in the room really quick?”

Rowan and Celeste glance at each other. There’s no tension in it—just curiosity.

“Yeah,” Rowan says easily. “Of course.”

Naomi turns toward Simone and Lila with a small, knowing smile. “This gives you two the perfect opportunity to… talk as well.” She punctuates it with an exaggerated wink.

Simone groans. “She’s insufferable.”

Lila laughs. “Go. We’ll survive.”

Naomi grins and heads down the hallway, Rowan and Celeste following behind her.

The bedroom feels calmer immediately—quieter, dimmer, like the world has softened at the edges. Naomi doesn’t hesitate for a second. She walks straight to the bed and flops down on her back, arms spread wide, eyes closing dramatically as if she’s surrendering to gravity.

“Bae… and babe,” she sighs, voice lazy but warm. “I have a question.”

Rowan huffs a laugh. “That never starts well.”

Celeste leans against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely, watching Naomi with fond amusement. “Go ahead.”

Naomi cracks one eye open, then props herself up slightly on her elbows. Her tone shifts—still gentle, but more intentional.

“So… Simone asked something earlier,” she begins. “And it kind of stuck with me. I didn’t want it sitting in my head without talking to you both about it.”

Rowan straightens a little. Celeste steps closer to the bed, listening.

Naomi continues, choosing her words carefully. “What about the physical side of us? Does it always have to be all three of us together? Because realistically… we’re not going to be around each other all the time. Schedules, work, life.”

She pauses, fingers tracing idle patterns into the comforter. “Would anyone get jealous if sometimes it wasn’t all three? I don’t think I would—but I want to know where you both stand. I don’t want assumptions to turn into resentment later.”

The room goes quiet—not uncomfortable, just thoughtful.

Celeste moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting a hand on Naomi’s knee. Her touch is steady, grounding. “I wouldn’t be jealous,” she says softly. “Not if the love stays honest. Not if no one feels pushed aside or left out.”

Naomi looks at her, eyes searching. Celeste holds her gaze without flinching.

Rowan nods slowly from where she’s leaning against the dresser. “Same for me,” she says. “As long as the relationship stays balanced—communication, transparency, respect—I’m good. I don’t need control. I need trust. And I need to know everyone feels equally chosen.”

Naomi lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, shoulders relaxing as if something unclenched inside her chest. “Okay,” she murmurs. “That makes me feel a lot better.”

Celeste smiles gently. “I’m really glad you asked instead of just carrying it alone.”

Rowan barely has time to register what’s happening before Naomi’s already pulling her closer, fitting herself against her like it’s instinct instead of impulse. Naomi’s arm tightens around her waist, fingers spreading warm and sure, her cheek pressing into Rowan’s shoulder with a soft little sound of relief.

“There,” Naomi murmurs, voice low and affectionate. “That’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Rowan lets out a quiet laugh, the sound more breath than voice, her hand settling at Naomi’s back. “You say that like you planned it.”

Naomi smiles against her, eyes closed. “I didn’t plan it. I felt it.” She shifts just slightly, nestling closer. “There’s a difference.”

She breathes Rowan in for a second, unhurried, like she’s memorizing the moment. “You’re really comfortable,” she adds softly. “Like… I don’t have to hold myself together around you.”

Rowan’s chest tightens at that, her thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles along Naomi’s arm. “You don’t,” she says gently. “You never do.”

Naomi hums again, content, then tilts her head just enough to glance behind her.

“Celeste,” she says, tone playful but needy in that honest way that doesn’t ask permission—it asks for closeness. “Come on. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Celeste’s answer is immediate. She slides in behind Naomi, close and careful, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back until Naomi is fully held between them. Her presence is solid, grounding, familiar.

Naomi’s breath stutters out as soon as Celeste settles in.

“Oh,” she whispers, smiling. “Yeah. That. That’s the spot.”

She relaxes completely now, spine softening as she leans back into Celeste’s chest, one hand still curled around Rowan’s shirt like she might float away if she lets go.

“I don’t even need words right now,” Naomi says quietly. “Just… this. Being held. Being wanted. Being here.”

Celeste presses her cheek lightly to Naomi’s shoulder. “We’ve got you,” she says, simple and sincere.

Rowan nods, resting her forehead briefly against Naomi’s hair. “All of you. No gaps.”

Naomi’s smile deepens, eyes still closed, her voice warm and almost sleepy. “God, I really love how safe this feels,” she murmurs. “I don’t have to be strong for five whole minutes. I don’t have to fix anything. I can just exist and be loved.”

She squeezes Rowan gently, then reaches back to lace her fingers with Celeste’s. “Thank you,” she says softly. “For choosing me. For choosing us.”