Chapter 11

By the time we made it back to my place, the weight of the studio had already started to peel off my shoulders. My heels were in one hand, my hair was half falling out of its pins, and my chest still buzzed with the memory of Rowan’s smile.

Lila carried two grocery bags packed with chips, cheese, and enough chocolate to feed an army. Simone had the bottle clutched triumphantly in one hand, holding it up like a trophy. Naomi trailed behind, calm as always, but even she wore the faintest smile, as if she already knew this night would end with more truths than any of us expected.

“Shoes off, couch claimed, glasses out,” Simone barked like a drill sergeant the second we walked in. “This is girls’ night. No exceptions.”

“I don’t even think we need glasses,” Lila muttered, setting the snacks on the counter.

Simone’s grin turned feral. “Correct answer. Shots it is.”

Within minutes, the living room had transformed. My coffee table glowed under the soft lamp light, cluttered with bowls of chips, pretzels, a mountain of cookies, and the very expensive bottle of tequila Simone had insisted on buying. She lined up mismatched shot glasses — one was a souvenir from Vegas, one said “#1 Mom” in faded pink letters, another was from a set I didn’t even remember buying.

Simone filled each glass to the brim, raised hers high, and smirked. “To Celeste,” she declared. “For surviving what was definitely the hottest table read in cinematic history.”

Lila groaned, Naomi arched a brow, but they raised their glasses anyway.

“To Celeste,” they echoed.

I rolled my eyes but lifted mine too. “You’re all ridiculous.”

The first shot burned going down, sharp and fast. I coughed, heat spreading down my throat, while Simone slammed hers like water, grinning wide.

“Another!” Simone announced, already reaching for the bottle.

Lila sighed, reaching for the snacks. “You’re going to get her drunk in thirty minutes.”

“That’s the point,” Simone sang, sliding another glass toward me.

We went again. And again. And again.

By the fourth shot, I was sprawled across my couch, warm and loose, giggling at nothing. Lila sat cross-legged on the rug, plowing through a bag of chips, muttering about how we were going to regret this in the morning. Naomi had slowed down after her third, sipping water now, watching us with her calm, steady eyes. And Simone — of course — was thriving, perched against the arm of the couch with her knees pulled up, bottle in hand like she was the conductor of our chaos.

“Okay,” Simone said finally, wagging a finger at me, “we have to talk about it. That near-kiss. That whole ‘when the movie is finished’ deal. Spill, Cece.”

I groaned, dragging a throw pillow over my face. “Why are you all like this?”

“Because,” Simone drawled, tugging the pillow away with no mercy, “this is history in the making. I saw the way you looked at her. Hell, I saw the way she looked at you.“

Naomi set her glass down carefully, her voice soft but steady. “She wasn’t wrong, Celeste. You’ve never let anyone in like that. And Rowan… she cracked you open without even trying.”

Heat spread across my face, and I reached for another shot. “I didn’t even notice I was walking toward her. Not until I was already there. It was like… like something was pulling me, and I couldn’t stop it. One second we were talking, and the next I was right in front of her, leaning in, about to—” My throat closed. “About to kiss her.”

Simone let out a triumphant whoop, pounding her fist into the couch cushion. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. That’s not just chemistry, that’s—” She leaned in close, her grin sharp. “That’s destiny, baby.”

Lila groaned, grabbing a cookie like it was an aspirin. “That’s trouble. Big, career-imploding, reputation-risking trouble.”

I buried my face in my hands. “And it was my idea.“

That snapped all three heads toward me.

“What do you mean, your idea?” Lila demanded.

I peeked between my fingers, my voice breaking. “I told her we couldn’t act on any of it. That we had to wait until after filming. I came up with the rule. She just… agreed.”

The room froze.

Simone gasped, then clapped her hands like it was Christmas morning. “You made a pact with her? Oh, honey, that’s delicious. It’s like foreplay stretched across months. You two are going to be smoldering until the last day on set.”

Lila groaned louder, tossing a pillow at Simone’s head. “Do you hear yourself? This isn’t funny! Celeste just invited a disaster into her life and gave it a deadline.”

Naomi tilted her head, her eyes sharp even as her tone stayed calm. “But you did make a boundary. And she respected it. That matters, Celeste.”

I dropped my hands, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers. “She smiled when I said it. Like she was already planning for what happens after. And when she left, she repeated it. When the movie is finished. Like it was a promise.”

The room went quiet.

Simone broke it first, leaning over me with a sly grin. “Honestly? I’m rooting for her. She’s bold, she’s patient, and she clearly knows exactly what she wants.”

Lila huffed, pointing her cookie at me like it was a weapon. “You need to be careful. Because once that line blurs, there’s no going back.”

Naomi gave me a long, thoughtful look. “The real question is… do you want to hold the line? Or do you already know you won’t?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I reached for another shot, the glass trembling in my hand.

“Shots,” Simone declared, raising hers high. “For dangerous women and the fools who fall for them.”

The tequila didn’t stop flowing.

By the sixth shot, Simone was on her feet, dancing to a song only she could hear. Lila was sprawled across the rug, head propped on a pillow, muttering about how she was too old for this while still reaching for another cookie. Naomi, cheeks flushed, had let her calm facade slip just enough to laugh softly at our chaos.

And me? I was curled into the corner of the couch, warm and dizzy, my phone clutched in one hand while Simone tried to balance another full shot glass on my knee.

“Drink it,” Simone demanded. “Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not a doctor,” I slurred, giggling despite myself.

“Exactly.” She grinned, throwing her head back to down the shot herself. “That’s why you should trust me.”

I shook my head, laughing—until my phone buzzed in my hand.

The vibration cut through the haze, sharp and startling. I blinked at the screen.

Rowan: Get home safe?

My stomach dropped. The room spun for a reason that had nothing to do with tequila.

“Who’s that?” Lila asked immediately, suspicion sharpening her voice even through her drunken haze.

I must have hesitated too long, because Simone lunged, trying to snatch the phone from my hand. “Is that who I think it is?”

I pulled it to my chest, heat rushing up my neck. “It’s—uh—it’s Rowan.”

The room erupted.

Simone let out a howl of laughter, nearly spilling the bottle. “Oh my god! She’s texting you already?”

Lila sat up, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Wait. When the hell did you two even exchange numbers?”

Naomi, ever calm, leaned in slightly. “Yes, Celeste. When did that happen?”

I groaned, covering my face with one hand. “She… she took my phone when she walked in earlier.”

Simone gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been struck by Cupid himself.

I peeked between my fingers. “She handed me her phone and told me to put my number in it.”

Simone screamed, grabbing the throw pillow and smacking me with it. “That’s so bold! I love it. God, she’s not just confident — she’s claiming you.“

Naomi’s brows lifted, her voice thoughtful even through her tipsiness. “So she wanted that line of connection open right away. That says something.”

Lila groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “This is insane. She has you spinning in circles, and she hasn’t even taken you on a date. You’re doomed.”