Chapter 13

The knock came twenty-five minutes later.

I nearly tripped over a pile of blankets on the floor as I scrambled to the door, praying the mess behind me didn’t look as catastrophic as it felt. Spoiler: it did.

The living room was a disaster zone. Simone was still passed out on the couch, one arm dangling to the floor, her mouth open in a loud snore. Lila was half-wrapped in a blanket on the rug, using a throw pillow as her shield against the daylight. Naomi had sat up in the armchair, quiet but clearly awake, her calm eyes following me as if she already knew who was at the door.

The smell of chips, tequila, and regret hung heavy in the air.

I tugged my hair into some semblance of a ponytail and pulled the door open.

Rowan stood there, leather jacket thrown casually over a plain white tee, her script tucked under one arm and two large paper bags in the other. Steam curled from the tops of coffee cups poking out of the drink tray she balanced effortlessly.

“Delivery,” she said simply, her mouth curving into a smile.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“You—uh—” I stepped aside quickly, cheeks heating. “Come in.”

Rowan stepped past me, her gaze flicking briefly over the wreckage of the living room before landing back on me. She didn’t comment. She just set the bags on the coffee table, careful not to knock over the empty shot glasses.

Simone stirred, blinking blearily. “Oh my god. Is that—” Her eyes widened when she realized who was standing in the middle of my apartment. She shot upright, grinning like a maniac. “Well hello, movie star.”

Lila groaned from the rug, dragging the blanket over her head. “Tell me I’m hallucinating. Please.”

Naomi, still composed even with her hair mussed, offered Rowan the faintest smile. “You brought food.”

Rowan set the coffee tray down, pulling out a greasy paper bag and sliding it across the table toward me. “Breakfast sandwiches. Fries. Extra cheese.” She glanced at me, eyes sparkling. “Friend order, right?”

My stomach growled loudly enough to answer for me.

Simone cackled. “Oh, this is so much better than I imagined.”

I dropped onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. “Kill me now.”

Rowan didn’t flinch at Simone’s commentary or Lila’s groaning. She just pulled more food from the bags and began unwrapping everything like she belonged there. The smell of melted cheese and hot fries filled the room, instantly cutting through the haze of tequila and regret.

Naomi shifted forward, taking a coffee and murmuring a soft, “Thank you,” before settling back into the armchair.

Simone wasted no time grabbing a sandwich, peeling the wrapper open with a dramatic sigh. “God, you’re a saint. And possibly my new favorite person.”

Rowan’s mouth curved faintly. “I’ll take that as high praise.”

Lila finally sat up on the rug, hair sticking out in every direction, blanket draped around her shoulders like a cape. She squinted at Rowan suspiciously as she reached for fries. “You didn’t have to come here, you know.”

Rowan glanced at me briefly before answering. “I wanted to.”

The words were simple, but they landed heavy. My face burned, and I quickly stuffed half a sandwich into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer.

Simone caught the look, of course. Her grin widened, wicked and unrelenting. “Ohhh, I like this. She wanted to. Celeste, did you hear that?”

“I’m eating,” I mumbled through a mouthful, wishing I could crawl under the couch cushions.

Rowan only chuckled under her breath and reached for her coffee, sipping slowly as though she wasn’t sitting in the middle of my wreck of an apartment with three best friends watching her like hawks.

Naomi was the first to break the silence again, her tone calm, measured. “So, Rowan. You’re just… friends?”

Rowan’s eyes lingered on me for half a heartbeat longer than they should have before she answered smoothly, “That’s what she said.”

Simone nearly spit out her coffee. “Oh my god. This is the best hangover breakfast of my life.”

Lila groaned into her blanket again. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

The food disappeared fast. Simone licked salt off her fingers, Lila guarded her fries like they were treasure, and Naomi nursed her coffee with calm precision. Rowan, somehow, still looked composed — legs stretched out, sipping her drink like she wasn’t sitting in a minefield.

Simone leaned forward, pointing a fry at Rowan like it was a microphone. “Okay, spill. What’s your angle?”

Rowan arched a brow, utterly unbothered. “My angle?”

“Yeah.” Simone smirked, eyes gleaming. “Big star shows up at my best friend’s apartment with coffee and greasy food? That’s not normal. That’s not friendly. That’s a plot twist.”

Rowan took her time, sipping her coffee before she answered. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing people hungover without proper sustenance.”

Lila groaned from under her blanket. “Or maybe you’re trying to worm your way into Celeste’s life, and I don’t like it.”

Rowan turned her head slightly, gaze sharp but patient. “I don’t have to worm my way in. She let me in.”

The room went dead quiet.

My throat closed, heat rushing up my neck. “That is not—”

Simone clapped once, grinning like a wolf. “Oh, this is so much better than brunch.”

Naomi tilted her head, her voice even. “Rowan. You said you wanted to. Why?”

For a second, Rowan didn’t answer. Her eyes flicked to me, lingering long enough to make my stomach twist. Then she looked back at Naomi, her voice low, steady.

“Because I do like her. So.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Simone let out a squeal so loud it could’ve woken the dead, slapping the couch cushion like she was watching a live finale. “SHE SAID IT!”

Lila groaned, dragging the blanket over her head. “This is a nightmare. A living nightmare.”

Naomi, though, just nodded once, calm as ever — but her eyes stayed locked on me.

And me? I sat frozen on the couch, face buried in my hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Because Rowan had said it plain, with no hesitation, no teasing.

Simone was still squealing, Lila was groaning into her blanket, and Naomi sat with that unreadable calm, when Rowan leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. Her voice cut through the chaos, steady and deliberate.

“Listen,” she said, her gaze sweeping the room before settling back on me. “I’m not trying to overstep any boundaries. I’ll keep it friendly as long as I can. But I need to be honest, because pretending otherwise feels pointless.”

The room went still.

Rowan’s eyes locked on mine, unflinching. “I do want to get to know you, Celeste. Not just your character, not just the actress everyone else sees. You.“

My breath caught, the sandwich in my lap forgotten.

“And when the time is right,” Rowan continued, a small smile curving her lips, “I am going to make my move. And I’m going to get what I want.”

Simone let out a strangled sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. Lila sat bolt upright under her blanket, staring at Rowan like she’d just declared war. Naomi tilted her head, studying Rowan with a flicker of intrigue.

Rowan’s smile softened, but her voice carried that same quiet certainty. “Preferably when we’re done filming. Like you want. But make no mistake, Celeste—” her eyes sparkled, a promise woven into the words, “—I’ll be waiting.”

The silence was suffocating, heavy and electric all at once. My heart slammed so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.

And before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. Quiet. Shaky. True.

“I… like the sound of that.”

Rowan’s gaze locked onto mine the second I said it, her expression unreadable at first. Then, slowly, her smile deepened — not smug, not teasing, but certain. Her eyes lingered, steady and unshaken, as if she was memorizing the exact moment I let my walls crack.

Simone shrieked like she was watching a soap opera cliffhanger. “OH MY GOD. Somebody pinch me, this is better than reality TV.”

Lila’s jaw dropped, eyes darting between me and Rowan like she’d just witnessed a car crash in slow motion. “Celeste. Did you really just say that?”

Naomi, as calm as ever, leaned back in her chair, her gaze flicking from Rowan to me with quiet satisfaction. “Finally, some honesty.”

But Rowan didn’t look away from me. Not once. Her smile was small, deliberate, her focus unrelenting. Like I was the only one in the room who mattered.

The laughter, the squeals, the groans from my friends blurred around me, but Rowan’s eyes never left mine. Steady. Sure. Too much.