Chapter 9

The knock still echoed in the room when her voice followed.

“Celeste?” Rowan’s tone was low, steady, impossible to ignore.

My stomach flipped. For a long beat, none of us moved.

Then Simone, of course, smirked like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Well,” she said, standing, “looks like our work here is done.”

Lila frowned, hesitant. “Are you sure you want—”

“Yes,” I hissed, cutting her off before I could change my mind. My chest felt too tight, breath too shallow, but the last thing I needed was them hovering.

Naomi rose gracefully, smoothing her skirt. “We’ll give you space.” Her calm gaze lingered on me for just a moment, grounding me with a quiet steadiness.

Simone winked on her way out. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Lila squeezed my shoulder before following them, her mouth set in a tight line that screamed protective older sister energy. And then the door shut behind them, leaving me alone with the sound of my own pulse.

Another pause. Then the door opened.

Rowan stepped inside, closing it softly behind her. She didn’t move further at first, just stood there in her leather jacket and jeans, script still tucked under her arm. Her gaze found mine instantly.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

The words were simple, but the weight of them landed like a stone in my chest.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to nod. “Yeah. We can talk.”

Rowan crossed the room slowly, each step deliberate. She pulled her phone from her pocket, glanced at it, then held it out to me. “Before we say anything else… maybe it’s time we stop only talking through a script.”

My throat went dry. Still, I took the phone, fingers brushing hers as I typed my number in. When I handed it back, she saved it without hesitation, my name flashing across her screen. Then she slipped the phone away and looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“Celeste… I need you to know that what happened out there—” she gestured faintly toward the stage “—that wasn’t just the script for me. Not even close.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy, trembling on the edge of something I wasn’t sure I could handle.

My throat tightened. I folded my arms across my chest, like I could hold myself together if I just pressed hard enough. “You don’t have to say that. We both know what this is—it’s work. A role. That’s all.”

Her brows lifted, amused but not mocking. “Is that what you really believe?”

I looked away, fixing my gaze on the vanity mirror. My reflection betrayed me—flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes that wouldn’t stay steady. “It’s what I need to believe.”

Rowan took a step closer. “Celeste…” Her voice dipped, soft but sure. “When I’m with you, it doesn’t feel like pretending. It feels like—” She broke off, searching for the word. “Like I’ve been dropped into something I didn’t even know I was looking for. And it terrifies me. Because you’re… you. And this role could make or break me. The last thing I want is to screw it up.”

I finally looked at her. Her usual armor—a smirk, a shrug, some easy confidence—was gone. She stood there raw, uncertain, and entirely real.

My chest constricted. “You don’t understand. I’ve built my whole career on control. On keeping lines clear, walls high, rules in place. And then you walk in, and suddenly none of it holds. Do you have any idea what that means for me?”

Rowan’s gaze held mine, steady. “Maybe it means you’re alive.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy but magnetic. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out every logical thought.

I took one shaky step back, desperate to breathe. “We can’t—”

Rowan didn’t press. Instead, her gaze softened, her voice dropping low. “I understand that.”

The admission disarmed me more than any push could have.

I exhaled hard, raking a hand through my hair. “Let’s just… try to keep it professional. Not cross those lines. At least not until the movie is finished.”

Rowan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Until the movie is finished?”

Her voice carried that low rasp, half challenge, half promise. It made my skin prickle.

I swallowed hard, the words trembling but steady enough to hold. “Yes. We don’t act on any true feelings, only what’s in the script. Until filming is over.”

Her brows arched slightly, interest sparking. “And after?”

The room seemed to tilt. I had built my whole career on restraint, on control, but the truth clawed its way out anyway.

“When filming’s over… I want to try. To see what this feeling is. Because I’ve never—” My voice cracked, softer than a whisper. “I’ve never in my life felt this before. And you make me feel this way.”

The admission hung between us like a live wire.

I took a slow step forward. Then another. My heart slammed in my chest with each inch I closed. Rowan didn’t move away. If anything, she leaned into the gravity pulling us together.

Her lips parted slightly, eyes softening. I leaned closer, my breath mixing with hers, until I could see every detail — the faint freckles along her nose, the curve of her mouth, the way her lashes fluttered.

Her eyes slipped shut.

I hovered there, lips just a breath away from hers, the world narrowing down to this one suspended moment.

And then—

A sharp throat-clearing shattered the spell.

Both of us jerked back, startled, turning toward the door. It was cracked open, and my friends filled the frame.

Lila, arms crossed, jaw tight, her protective fury practically radiating from her. Simone, smirk wide, eyebrows arched in gleeful disbelief, clearly savoring every second of this scandal. Naomi, calm as ever, but her steady gaze flicked between us, assessing, cataloguing.

Rowan blinked once, then looked back at me. Her mouth curved into a small, certain smile. She didn’t retreat in embarrassment; she carried herself with the same composure she always did — like nothing could rattle her.

“When the movie is finished,” she said softly, her voice meant for me but loud enough to reach the girls at the door.

My lips parted. My body screamed to answer differently. But all I managed was a shaky nod. “When it’s finished.”

Rowan’s smile lingered, deliberate, before she stepped back. She slipped out of the room in one smooth motion, brushing past my friends with polite ease. The faint click of the door closing left the air buzzing, alive with everything unsaid.

For a full second, no one moved.

Simone was the first to speak, throwing her hands in the air. “What. The. Hell. Was that?”

Lila’s voice was sharper. “You two were about to—” She cut herself off, groaning, rubbing her forehead like she was nursing a headache. “Celeste, this is dangerous.”

Naomi’s tone was quieter, but it cut deeper. “She wasn’t pretending. Neither of you were.”

I sank into the vanity chair, my legs no longer steady. My reflection in the mirror looked back at me wild-eyed, lips still parted, Rowan’s nearness lingering like fire.

“I…” My voice faltered, breaking into a whisper. “I don’t know what that was.”