Chapter 30

The door opened again, and Rowan stepped back inside. The room fell quiet, all three friends turning toward her with expressions that ranged from curiosity to suspicion.

Rowan’s gaze, though, went straight to Celeste. “I talked to the director. He said they’ll spend the rest of the day on edits and rewrites. You’re free to go.”

Celeste exhaled, shoulders sagging with relief. “Good.”

Rowan took a step closer, her voice gentler now. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to go home with you?”

The air shifted. Simone arched a brow. Lila looked like she might protest. Naomi stayed still, observing.

Celeste straightened in her chair, gripping the armrests like anchors. “I want this to stay professional.”

Rowan’s lips curved into the faintest smile, calm but unwavering. “We can remain professional. But we both know there’s something more.” She held Celeste’s gaze steady, her tone even but carrying weight. “So… do you want me to go with you or not?”

The question hung in the air like a live wire, buzzing with tension. Celeste’s friends glanced between them, waiting, but this time they didn’t interfere.

Celeste’s throat went dry, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn’t answer right away.

Celeste’s eyes darted toward her friends, silently asking for backup. They all stared back, unflinching. Finally, Simone crossed her arms and raised a brow.

“Well,” she said bluntly, “do you, or not?”

Naomi leaned forward, her voice gentler but just as direct. “Celeste, only you can answer that.”

Lila gave a little shrug, lips quirking. “No pressure. But… kinda pressure.”

Celeste sighed, her chest rising and falling before she turned her head back toward Rowan. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, her voice came out quieter than she expected.

“Yes, I do,” she admitted. Then, a faint crease formed between her brows. “But… is it really a good idea?”

Rowan stepped closer, her expression steady, voice calm and sure. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you in a few.” She gave a little nod, almost businesslike, but her eyes never wavered. “I’m going to swing home and grab some clothes. Do you need me to bring food?”

Celeste blinked, caught off guard by how normal the question felt after everything. “Yes,” she said softly.

Rowan tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Do you want anything in particular?”

Celeste shook her head. “No. Just… bring your favorite place.”

“Deal.” Rowan’s smile widened, a spark in her eyes. “See you soon.” She glanced at the three women watching the exchange and offered a polite nod. “Bye, girls.”

Then she slipped out the door, leaving behind a silence thick enough to cut.

Her friends lingered in the doorway for a moment, hesitant to leave her alone. But Celeste gave them a small nod, silently reassuring them.

“Well, okay then,” Simone finally said, though her tone carried an undercurrent of concern.

“If you need us, text or call,” Naomi added, giving her a meaningful look.

Lila smirked lightly, trying to cut the tension. “And don’t overthink it, Celeste. Just… breathe.”

When the door shut behind them, Celeste sagged against the counter, pressing her palms flat to the surface. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye still pale, still rattled, but with a flicker of anticipation that startled her.

She shook her head quickly, grabbed her bag, and hurried out to the car.

By the time she got home, she didn’t waste a second. She pulled her phone out and typed fast:

Celeste: The door’s open. I’m going to get in the shower.

Rowan’s reply buzzed through seconds later:

Rowan: Okay. I ordered food to be delivered. I’m on the way.

Celeste stared at the message longer than she meant to, her thumb hovering as though she wanted to say something more. Instead, she set her phone down, went to the bathroom, and lit a single candle on the counter. The warm glow flickered across the tiles, throwing soft shadows up the wall.

Steam soon filled the room as the shower roared to life. Celeste stepped under the spray, tilting her head back, letting the heat loosen every knot in her shoulders. For the first time all day, she let her body unclench. She braced her hands against the slick tile, breathing slow and heavy, water cascading down her face and neck.

She didn’t hear the front door open, but she felt it. A subtle shift in the air, like a sixth sense sparking awake. The energy in the apartment changed, more alert, more charged.

And then fingertips brushed her shoulder blades. Light, tentative at first, then firmer, sliding across the curve of her back. Celeste startled, her breath hitching as she turned around.

Rowan stood there in the steam, close enough that the candlelight framed her in a soft halo. Water clung to her skin instantly, her hair already dampening at the edges. Her eyes didn’t waver, locked on Celeste’s as though searching for permission.

Celeste’s lips parted, but no words came. Her pulse quickened, echoing in her chest. She was suddenly aware of everything at once the warmth of Rowan’s hands still lingering against her, the hiss of water beating down between them, the faint scent of the candle curling into the humid air.

Rowan’s voice was low, almost lost under the spray.
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Celeste swallowed hard, torn between instinct and restraint. She searched Rowan’s face, every line of it open, steady, and devastatingly real.

Celeste didn’t think about it she simply leaned forward, closing the space between them. Her lips pressed against Rowan’s, soft at first, then surer, the kind of kiss that carried everything she’d been holding back.

Rowan’s breath caught, but then she melted into it, her hands sliding up to cradle Celeste’s jaw. For a long heartbeat, the steam, the warmth, the press of lips all of it made the world feel far away.

Then Rowan gently pulled back, resting her forehead against Celeste’s, both of them still breathing hard.
“That’s enough,” she whispered, her tone tender but firm. “Let’s just… wash up. Then cuddle. Okay?”

Celeste blinked, surprised, but then she nodded slowly. Her shoulders eased, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Okay.”

They stayed close but shifted into something calmer, rinsing off in the warm spray, their movements quiet and unhurried. Rowan helped lather Celeste’s shoulders, fingers brushing lightly against her skin, and Celeste returned the gesture, the silence between them steady, almost sacred.

When they finally stepped out, towels wrapped around them, the glow of the candle still flickering on the counter, they felt lighter. Rowan tied her hair back loosely while Celeste slipped into soft clothes, her favorite oversized tee and sweats.

A knock sounded at the door just as Celeste was lighting another candle in the living room. Rowan peeked out through the curtain, then turned with a grin.
“Perfect timing—food’s here.”

Celeste exhaled a small laugh, the kind that finally sounded like relief. She padded barefoot to the door, letting Rowan take the bags from the delivery driver. The smell of Rowan’s favorite takeout filled the apartment—warm, familiar, grounding.

Rowan set the bags on the counter and looked back at Celeste, her eyes soft.
“See? We’re fine,” she said gently.

Celeste nodded, her heart still racing for reasons that had nothing to do with food.