But her heart—traitorous, hopeful thing—was already thinking about tomorrow. And the day after. And all the tomorrows she wanted but couldn't have.
She pressed a kiss to Celeste's hair, so gentle it couldn't possibly wake her.
“This is rapidly unfurling in ways I never imagined,” she whispered into the darkness. “And I can’t help it.”
Celeste's only response was to snuggle closer, and Ruby held her like she was an ultimate lifeline.
Because she was.
And that was exactly the problem.
Ruby had thought one night would be enough to get Celeste out of her system. Instead, she'd become more desperate to unravel her secrets. More determined to be the person who could finally make Celeste feel safe enough to be herself.
One night hadn't been enough.
One night would never be enough.
And Ruby had absolutely no idea what she was going to do about that.
Chapter Thirteen
Celeste
Celeste woke up early, same as always. Her clock didn't care about hotel rooms or life-altering sex, or the warm body currently sprawled across three-quarters of the bed.
Ruby was still asleep, one arm flung over her head, blonde hair a mess against the pillow. She looked younger like this, peaceful and beautiful in a way that made Celeste's chest ache.
She slipped out of bed, gathering her clothes from where they'd been scattered across the floor in last night's frenzy. Her body felt different. Sore in places, yes, but also alive in a way she'd forgotten was possible.
The bathroom tiles were cold under her bare feet. She turned the shower to just shy of scalding and stepped under the spray.
Her first sexual experience since college, and it had been…
She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, letting the water cascade over her shoulders. Mind-blowing didn't begin to cover it. Ruby had touched her in a way that was golden and devastating all at once. Had learned her body with focused intensity, memorizing what made Celeste gasp, what made her arch, what made her forget her own name.
And Celeste had done the same, exploring Ruby's body with a hunger she didn't know she possessed.
A giddy laugh escaped her lips, surprising herself. This was what she'd needed. Sometimes life was about feeling and being present in your own body instead of constantly thinking three steps ahead.
Maybe Ruby had been right all along.
She finished her shower and dried off her wet hair with a towel. When she emerged, Ruby was still sleeping, her face turned toward the pillow Celeste had vacated. The sheet had slipped down to her waist, and Celeste allowed herself a moment to just look, appreciating the curve of Ruby's spine and the way morning light painted her skin gold.
Then she grabbed her phone and slipped into the hallway, closing the door softly behind her.
She needed to hear her children's voices. She needed that anchor to reality, to the life waiting for her back home. Not because she regretted last night—she didn't, not even a little—but because it was important to remember why this thing with Ruby couldn't be more than temporary.
Her mother answered on the second ring. “Darling! How's the trip?”
“Good. Really good, actually.” Celeste leaned against the wall, picturing her mother in the kitchen back home, probably making breakfast for the twins. “How are the kids?”
“Wonderful. Hold on, they're right here fighting over who gets to talk first—”
She heard muffled voices, Luna's patient tone trying to reason with Theo's excitement.
“Mama!” Theo's voice burst through the speaker, and Celeste felt her throat tighten with love. “Nonna taught me how to make pasta from scratch! Real pasta, not the box kind. And I only dropped the dough on the floor once!”
“That's amazing, sweetheart.” Celeste closed her eyes, imagining his flour-covered face and gap-toothed grin. “Did you eat it?”
