Chapter 68

The lighting was low and warm, the kind that made everything feel a little unreal. Naomi leaned her hand against the counter, steadying herself as Celeste turned toward her, concern flickering across her face.

“You okay?” Celeste asked gently.

Naomi let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. I’m good. Just… drunk.” She hesitated, eyes lifting to meet Celeste’s. “And I really want to kiss you. But I know we shouldn’t.”

Celeste’s lips twitched, half-smile, half-warning. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Especially since you’re drunk.”

“True,” Naomi agreed quickly, holding up her hands in surrender. Then, quieter, almost teasing, “But one kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

Celeste exhaled, shaking her head as she stepped back just enough to put space between them. “How about this,” she said. “We use the bathroom, splash some water on your face, and then we head back out. We can actually talk about this later—when you’re sober.”

Naomi groaned dramatically. “Okay, okay. Fine. You’re being responsible. Rude, but responsible.”

Celeste laughed, reaching past her to grab a paper towel. “I’ll survive.”

Naomi washed her hands, rinsed her face, and checked her reflection in the mirror, smoothing her hair and fixing her smudged makeup. The buzz in her head eased just a little. When she turned back around, Celeste was watching her with that familiar unreadable look—something lingering there, unspoken.

“All good?” Celeste asked.

Naomi nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

They slipped back out together, rejoining the noise.

Rowan appeared at Naomi’s side, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, party animal! Ready to dance the night away?” Rowan’s voice was light and playful, but Naomi detected a hint of concern in her tone.

Naomi forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering tension. “I could use a break from the VIP area. Lead the way!”

As they made their way to the dance floor, Naomi found herself lost in the mesmerizing rhythm of the music. She closed her eyes, allowing the pulsing beat to wash over her as Rowan’s hand found hers, guiding her into a sensual sway.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, the music becoming a silent conductor. Naomi’s thoughts began to drift, and before she knew it, her lips were brushing against Rowan’s ear. “I want to taste you,” she murmured, her words carrying on the gentle current of their breath.

Rowan turned to face Naomi, her eyes wide with surprise. But instead of recoiling, she pulled Naomi in for kiss, deepening it with a hunger that caught Naomi off guard. Naomi’s heart pounded in her chest as Rowan’s lips met hers.

Naomi pulled back from the kiss, her breath coming in short gasps. “You taste so good,” she murmured, her eyes locked on Rowan’s. “I wish I could taste your other lips too.”

Rowan stared at her, clearly taken aback by Naomi’s bold words. “Naomi, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Naomi’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and intoxication. “I… I don’t know. I’m just really drunk and my brain isn’t working right,” she stammered, trying to backpedal.

Rowan looked at her with a combination of concern and curiosity. “It’s okay, Naomi. We can talk about this later, when you’re not under the influence.”

Naomi nodded rapidly, already regretting her impulsive outburst. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry for that.”

She turned away, making her way back to the VIP section with her head down. As she settled onto her stool, Rowan’s puzzled gaze followed her, making Naomi’s skin prickle with anxiety.

Naomi and Rowan made their way back toward the VIP section, the bass thumping through the floor with every step. The flashing lights felt too bright now, too sharp, cutting through Naomi’s drunken haze. Her lips still tingled from the kiss—something she wished she could erase and relive all at once.

When they reached the table, Simone and Lila were laughing over something on Lila’s phone, their heads pressed together. The world spun just slightly as Naomi reached for the bottle sitting in front of Simone.

“Hey, easy,” Simone said, blinking at her. “You’ve been going hard tonight.”

Naomi flashed a quick grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just celebrating, babe.” She tipped the bottle back and took a long swallow straight from it before setting it down with a dull thud.

Rowan watched her closely, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. She could feel Naomi’s energy shift—the same mix of restlessness and something unspoken she’d seen earlier on the dance floor.

Lila arched an eyebrow. “What did we miss?”

Naomi’s face flushed a deep crimson as the weight of her words sank in. “I mean, not just tonight,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think…I think I want a relationship with both of them. But that would be crazy, right? A poly thing with my best friend and her girlfriend not girlfriend?”

Simone shook her head slowly. “Naomi, that’s a lot to process. Especially after drinking all night. Maybe we should get you somewhere to chill, let this all settle?”

Naomi waved her off, her hands shaking slightly as she reached for her phone. “No, no, I’m fine. Just need some air.” She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, ignoring the protests.

As Naomi made her way out of the VIP area, the pulsing music and flashing lights felt like a vise around her head. She stumbled into the cool night air, gasping as the fresh breeze hit her flushed skin.

Celeste appeared beside her, concern etched on her features. “Hey, you okay? You looked like you were about to pass out in there.”

Naomi leaned against the wall, her eyes unfocused. “I don’t know, Celeste. I just…feeling so fucking confused.”

Celeste placed a gentle hand on her arm. “And scared. I can see it in your eyes, Naomi. You’re not thinking clearly right now.”

Naomi nodded, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “You’re right. I think I need to get out of here, just…just away from everything for a bit.”

Celeste nodded, a determined look crossing her face. “Alright, let’s get you home. We’ll figure this out tomorrow, okay?”

Naomi nodded, her eyes still unfocused. “Okay, yeah”

Celeste pulled out her phone and hit speed dial, speaking in hushed tones to whoever answered. A few minutes later, a sleek black car rounded the corner and pulled up to the curb.

“We’ll get you home, and you can rest,” Celeste said softly. “We can talk this through in the morning, when your head’s clearer.”

The condo was buzzing with leftover energy from the club. Music played low through the speakers, bottles were set out on the counter, and Lila and Simone were laughing about some ridiculous moment that had happened on the dance floor. Rowan poured herself a drink, stretching out on the couch like she owned it.

Naomi, however, was quieter now—her earlier chaos finally settling into something heavier. She held the bottle like it was her lifeline and announced dramatically, “I’m gonna hit the restroom before we really start this afterparty.” She slipped away before anyone could answer.

But instead of using the guest bathroom, Naomi ducked into Celeste’s room. She set the bottle down on the nightstand, used the bathroom quickly, and when she came back out, exhaustion hit her like a wave. Without thinking, she flopped down on Celeste’s bed, burying her face in the pillows. The smell of Celeste’s perfume lingered there, soft and grounding, and before she knew it, her eyes were closing. Sleep pulled her under fast.

Back in the living room, Celeste glanced around. Naomi had been gone too long. “I’ll go check on her,” she said, brushing off Rowan’s casual wave and Simone’s knowing smirk.

She walked down the hall, pushing her bedroom door open quietly. There Naomi was curled up on top of the comforter, her black dress wrinkled, hair spilling everywhere, one hand still loosely around the bottle she hadn’t finished. Celeste’s chest tightened.

She stepped closer, gently prying the bottle from Naomi’s hand and setting it aside. For a moment, she just stood there, watching her best friend breathe, her heart twisting in ways she couldn’t untangle. Then, softly, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to Naomi’s forehead.

Naomi stirred, her lashes fluttering before her hazy eyes cracked open. When she saw Celeste, she broke into a big, drowsy smile. “Why can’t you just want me?” she whispered, her voice raw, vulnerable. “You already said I’m wife material, but you don’t want me. You want Rowan.”

Celeste froze, her heart lurching. “Naomi…” she breathed.

Naomi pushed herself up on her elbows, blinking away the haze of sleep but holding her gaze. “You treat me like I’m everything. Like I’m yours. And then you look at her like she’s the only one in the room.” Her voice cracked, frustration and sadness threading together.

Celeste sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand reaching for Naomi’s but hesitating before it touched. “I do want you,” she admitted, her voice breaking under the weight of the confession. “But I also want Rowan.”

Naomi blinked at her, caught off guard. Celeste’s throat worked as she swallowed, her words tumbling out faster now.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. You’re steady, you’re loyal, you know me better than anyone else ever has. You ground me when I lose myself. And maybe… maybe I’ve always loved you, Naomi. But I never let myself look at you that way. Because if I did, I was afraid I’d ruin us.”

Naomi stared at her, wide-eyed, her breath uneven. She searched Celeste’s face like she was trying to decide if this was real or just another moment blurred by alcohol and exhaustion.

Finally, her lips trembled into a faint, sad smile. “So I’m everything you’ve ever wanted… but still not enough.”

Celeste flinched at the sting in her words. Her voice dropped, softer now. “You’re not ‘not enough.’ You’re… too much. You’re the person I can’t lose. And Rowan…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Rowan came crashing in and tore down walls I didn’t even know I’d built. But you? You’ve been here the whole time. You’ve always been here.”

Naomi looked down, her fingers twisting the sheets, her chest tight with unspoken emotion. “And that’s the problem, Celeste,” she whispered. “Because if you asked me right now to be yours… I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d risk everything.”

Naomi shifted against the pillows, her eyes heavy-lidded but her words startlingly clear. She reached up, fingers brushing against Celeste’s wrist like she was afraid she’d disappear if she let go.

“Be mine, Celeste,” Naomi whispered. There was no teasing this time, no drunken smirk just raw pleading in her voice. “Please. You know I’d never hurt you. I’d give you everything. Just be mine.”

Celeste’s breath caught. The weight of the words pressed against her chest until it almost hurt. She looked down at Naomi, her best friend, the person who had been by her side through every storm. The one who knew her better than anyone. The one she had leaned on without question.

“Naomi…” Celeste’s voice cracked. She lowered herself so their foreheads brushed, her hand cupping Naomi’s cheek. “You don’t mean that. Not like this.”

“I do,” Naomi insisted, eyes glossy with emotion. She pressed her palm over Celeste’s hand, holding it tighter against her skin. “I’ve meant it for longer than you know. I just… I can’t hide it anymore. Not when you keep looking at me like I’m everything and then running back to her.”

Celeste’s stomach twisted. She could feel Naomi trembling beneath her touch.

“You’re drunk,” Celeste murmured gently, though her own voice shook. “You won’t even remember half of this in the morning. And if you do… you’ll wish you hadn’t said it.”

Naomi let out a humorless laugh, shaky and broken. “Then let me say it while I can’t stop myself. Let me be selfish tonight.” Her eyes locked onto Celeste’s, unwavering. “Even if I forget tomorrow, promise me just for right now be mine.”

Celeste’s throat tightened. She brushed her thumb across Naomi’s cheek, torn between the familiar comfort of her touch and the dangerous intimacy swelling between them.

She leaned in, her lips brushing Naomi’s forehead softly, tenderly. “If you still feel this way tomorrow, we’ll talk. I promise. But I can’t give you what you want right now not like this. Not when it could just be the liquor talking.”

Naomi closed her eyes at the kiss, her face twisting like she was holding back tears. “You’re always so careful, Celeste. Always protecting everyone but yourself.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t need perfect. I just need you.”

The words cut deep, but Naomi’s eyes fluttered shut before Celeste could respond, sleep finally overtaking her.

Celeste lingered, watching her chest rise and fall, torn apart inside. She leaned down and kissed her hair softly, whispering to the quiet room:

“You already have me, Naomi. Just… not the way you want.”

Celeste lingered for a long moment at Naomi’s side, watching her best friend finally drift into a deep, peaceful sleep. Naomi’s lips still curved faintly in that tired, vulnerable smile, and Celeste felt her chest tighten. She brushed a soft kiss against her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.

When she stepped back into the living area, the others were sprawled around with half-empty glasses and the lingering buzz of the night still clinging to them. Rowan was perched lazily on the arm of the couch, Simone and Lila deep in some half-drunken debate about music.

Celeste cleared her throat, drawing their attention. “Uh… so Naomi’s completely knocked out in my bed.” She scratched the back of her neck, her tone dry but amused. “I guess that means I’m taking the couch tonight.”

Rowan arched a brow, smirking. “Really? Big movie star, Academy Award and everything, and you’re the one getting stuck on the couch?”

Lila snickered. “That’s friendship for you.”

Simone grinned, raising her glass. “To Celeste, the most accommodating host we’ve ever had.”

Celeste rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it. You two can crash in the guest rooms. Just try not to snore too loud.”

Rowan stretched, grabbing one of the throw pillows. “Guess I’ll take the other couch then. Keep you company out here.”

Celeste shot her a look, half warning, half playful. “Don’t start with me, Rowan. The couch is mine. You can have a guest room too.”

Rowan’s smirk widened. “Fine, but only because I’m too tired to argue.” She winked as she slid off the arm of the couch.

The room settled into a softer rhythm then everyone laughing quietly, trading the last of their jokes and memories from the night, until one by one they drifted toward their rooms.