Hellos, Goodbyes & Fireflies

Author's note: This is a complete story with a strong focus on intimacy and connection. It's a slow burn, but I hope their story makes up for it. A 'thank you' to THBGato for providing input, common sense and a thoughtful touch.

Chapter 1

Rebecca stood in her corner office, the glass walls offering a sweeping view of the city illuminated by countless pinpricks of light. She cradled a tumbler of dark rum, one of the more expensive ones she'd normally keep locked away in her desk. The amber liquid swirled lazily as she gazed past the skyline. It wasn't the city below that held her attention, but the stars above.

Some people found exhilaration in towering over the city, surveying the hustle and chaos beneath them. Not Rebecca. She preferred the serenity of looking up, of watching the stars. They reminded her that even amidst the discord of her world, there was something still untouched by ambition or regret.

She took a slow sip, her thoughts drifting. Lately, those thoughts had a habit of circling back to Zoey. It was strange how memory worked, conjuring fragments of a person she'd tried to compartmentalize and bury.

She didn't seek out Zoey's photos or interviews; they just seemed to find her. Flashes of her old friend in glossy magazines, vibrant and alive, exuding that magnetic energy that made people love her.

Rebecca's eyes dropped to the glass in her hand. The rum was gone, leaving only the faint burn of it lingering on her lips. She glanced into the empty vessel she held. Empty, she thought, gazing back at the stars. Empty, like me. She placed the glass on her desk, her reflection in the polished surface catching her attention. It was the face of a woman who had clawed her way to the top—ruthless when she needed to be but unyielding always.

But the victories had come at a cost. Self-doubt, once a flicker, had grown into an unshakable shadow. Sometimes, she despised the person she'd become. And she was tired of pretending she was fine. She didn't want to be alone anymore.

A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Shall I get the car for you, Ms. Sanders?" Paul's voice was polite, measured.

Rebecca gave a curt nod. As he retreated, she glanced back at her desk, a hand brushing over the gala invitation lying atop a neat stack of papers. It was for a fundraiser her company was hosting in a week, an event to raise money for healthcare initiatives in underdeveloped countries. The cause was noble, a deliberate attempt to balance the scales against the compromises she'd made along the way.

Her eyes drifted to her phone. An idea had begun to form, hazy but persistent. It was reckless, absurd, and everything about it screamed bad idea. But the thought took root, stubborn and unshakable. Her fingers scrolled through her contacts until they hovered over a name she hadn't spoken in years.

Carter, Zoey

She stared at it, her thumb hesitating over the screen. She wasn't even sure the number worked anymore. Memories rushed in, flashes of laughter, arguments, and moments that had once felt infinite.

She cursed her own weakness as she realized she didn't dare contact her directly. The idea morphed into something else however. She scribbled some notes for herself on a post-it note so she could follow up the following morning.

She'd take a chance. Either it would work, or it wouldn't.

~~~

Zoey's gaze swept across the room, scanning the crowd with a mixture of curiosity and mild disbelief. Celebrities, politicians, business moguls, musicians, sports icons—each one seemingly more famous than the last. The opulence of the gala was overwhelming, the kind of event that felt more like a dream than reality. The dinner had just ended and people had begun mingling.

She still sat playing with her food, her mind elsewhere. People were fine, but formal events like this weren't really her thing. The invitation had come last minute from the club's newest sponsor, a fresh investor. Her manager had asked her to represent the team. To him, it was obvious: if anyone from the squad could handle the spotlight, it was their star striker. So here she was.

A few familiar faces caught her eye, and for a moment she considered getting up to greet them, to do the social thing expected at events like this. With a quiet sigh, Zoey straightened her back and stood. But as she turned, she froze—time suddenly stretching unbearably slow.

Just a few feet away stood Rebecca Sanders, a glass of champagne in hand, watching her. If Zoey had been looking closely, she might have noticed how tightly Rebecca gripped the stem, or the faint tremble in her free hand. But she didn't. She was too busy taking in the woman in-front of her—all of her.

Rebecca's blonde hair fell in soft waves, and she wore a gown that practically screamed elegance. Not that it mattered because Zoey would have recognized her anywhere, gown or no gown. Rebecca could have worn a paper bag over her head and she would have recognized her.

Rebecca had always carried herself with a certain kind of confidence, but now there was something almost regal about her. Simply put, she looked like a million dollars. Flashes of her absentmindedly chewing on the end of a pen by her desk slipped through Zoey's mind, awakening something that she thought she had long since forgotten. Rebecca had looked so innocent back then.

"Hi," Rebecca said softly, a small wave accompanying a hesitant smile.

Zoey blinked, words catching in her throat. She rarely got surprised, but for once she couldn't find her voice. Rebecca's blue eyes searched her face, looking for a sign of how this reunion was going to go. She hadn't planned for this. Or, that was a lie. She had thought about it. Had imagined it in a dozen different ways—some professional, some painfully personal.

"Where are my manners," Rebecca continued as she gestured towards a man standing slightly behind her. "This is Paul, my assistant. Paul, this is Zoey."

Paul and Zoey greeted each other with nods and hello's respectively, before Paul excused himself, disappearing amongst the crowd.

"It's been a long time," Rebecca continued.

"It has," Zoey finally managed. "I miss the ponytail."

Rebecca blinked. "What?"

"The ponytail. It made you look less... expensive."

Rebecca managed a nervous laugh. "Less expensive?"

"Yeah, you know. Less regal. More like my roommate who used to eat chips in bed."

"I still eat chips in bed, you know."

Zoey exhaled sharply and shook her head.

"God, this is so weird. Of all the ways I thought I'd see you again, this wasn't exactly how I imagined it."

That, at least, made Rebecca smile. "I didn't mean to ambush you like this."

"I didn't even know you were in Highpoint," Zoey continued.

"Not many do. I tend to keep a low profile."

"Done touring the world, then?"

"Something like that." Rebecca gave something of a half-smile. "I missed the city... so I moved my base of operations back here." There was a pause as Rebecca glanced down briefly—a flicker of hesitation. "I'm glad you came."

Zoey tilted her head, brow furrowing slightly. "Huh?"

"The invite."

"That was you? You're the new investor?"

"Yeah... Maybe I missed more than just the city." She looked at Zoey, carefully and open, wondering if Zoey would catch the meaning behind the words. "And this," she continued as she gestured around the room, "this is my event."

Zoey glanced around at the grand display. The decorations, the press photographers, the endless sea of glamorous guests. It was an impressive achievement, and it hit her just how far Rebecca had come.

"It's a hell of a guest list," Zoey murmured.

They stood there, the silence continuing to stretch between them. Rebecca hesitated, unsure whether to extend her hand or go for a hug. It was clear to her that Zoey had her defenses up, and both felt wrong, so she did neither.

"You're angry," Rebecca stated, cautiously.

Zoey hesitated. She wasn't sure if she was angry, upset or just stunned. "No, but—"

"You're upset with me."

"A little bit, maybe, yeah, and—"

"A part of you thinks it's nice to see me."

"Uh-huh and—"

"You're quite annoyed that I keep finishing your sentences."

Annoyed as she was, a smile tugged at Zoey's lips.

"I'm happy to see you again," Rebecca continued. "You look good."

Zoey had grown out of her boyish charm. Her burgundy colored hair with her trademark asymmetrical undercut gave her an undeniable presence, both on and off the soccer field. In contrast with her pale complexion and those emerald eyes, she had always caught Rebecca's eyes like a magnet.

Then again, Zoey did tend to have that kind of effect on people. The green dress hugged her athletic frame, the color bringing out the green in her eyes.

"Wait—you knew I'd come?" Zoey asked slowly, her mind working out what was happening.

"No, but I figured it was quite likely. Who would the club send if not their star?"

"You meant for this to happen."

Rebecca's fingers twitched nervously again. She didn't deny it.

"Why didn't you just call me?" Zoey continued.

"Would you have answered if I had?"

She didn't answer but the faint flush in her cheeks gave her away. Rebecca sighed, looking down at the space between them.

"This was a mistake."

"No." Zoey's tone was softer now. "Fuck. It's just... a lot to take in. I haven't seen you in forever, and..." She paused, glancing at Rebecca, trying to start over. "Sorry. How are you? Really."

Rebecca hesitated, the persona she'd perfected over the years slipping back into place.

"I'm fine."

Zoey raised an eyebrow. "Becca, it's me. You'll have to do better than that."

Rebecca opened her mouth to argue, but Zoey cut her off as she reached out with a steady hand. She grabbed Rebecca's and gave it a light squeeze.

"You pulled me into your world. You tricked—"

"Hey," Rebecca interjected softly.

"—managed to get me here. So tell me, what's going on?" She tilted her head, and then almost as an afterthought added, "what's wrong?"

Before Rebecca could answer someone yelled, "Hey, Zoey Carter's here!"

The crowd realized that the superstar soccer player was among them. In an instant Zoey was whisked away, her years of media training kicking in and her charm cranked to full volume as she worked the room, joking, writing autographs.

Rebecca stood frozen, her hand still warm where Zoey had touched it. She watched her friend go, unspoken words lodged firmly in her throat.

Hours later, Rebecca had lost sight of Zoey. She had watched her for most of the evening, laughing, mingling, charming her way through the crowd like the star she was. Zoey seemed to thrive in the spotlight, surrounded by warmth and energy, while Rebecca lingered on the outskirts. It was how it had always been, but this time she felt like an outsider in her own event.

She tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that twisted in her chest but it was impossible. Zoey's laughter reminded her of a life long past: A life filled with simpler joys, shared dreams, and fleeting moments that had slipped through her fingers. Memories of their younger days came flooding back, bittersweet and unrelenting. With a sigh, Rebecca rose to her feet and gestured to Paul who appeared at her side with her jacket in hand.

"Let's go home." Her voice quiet and tired. She'd at least made an effort.

"Yes, Ms. Sanders," Paul replied dutifully, "but, there's someone who wants a word before you leave."

Rebecca groaned inwardly, shooting him a look that asked, Must we?

"They insisted," Paul said with a slight shrug, his tone neutral but firm.

"Fine," she muttered, exasperation laced with resignation. "Let's get this over with."

Paul led her to a nearby conference room and opened the door, stepping aside to let her in, closing the door behind her. Rebecca entered, prepared to deliver a polite but quick goodbye, until she saw who was waiting inside.

"Zoey," Rebecca said, her voice caught between surprise and something far more vulnerable.

"Hi Becca," Zoey said, smiling. "Sorry about that."

Rebecca smiled weakly. "I didn't perhaps quite think this through. I know you're famous, but," she looked down, "I did overlook your charm. You're something else."

Zoey smiled guiltily. "So, picking up where we left off... Tell me about all of this." She made a vague gesture around the room.

Rebecca suddenly looked nervous. Zoey had caught her off guard.

"It's a fundraiser. We're raising money for healthcare initiatives in underdeveloped countries."

"That much I know," Zoey said with a smile. "It's a noble cause. I'm proud of you."

Rebecca looked away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know about that," she murmured, her voice quieter now. A faint blush touched her cheeks.

Zoey tilted her head, watching her for a moment. There was something fragile beneath the surface, something that hadn't been there when they were younger. Or maybe it had been, and she just hadn't known how to see it.

"This is so you," she said softly, taking a step forward.

Before Rebecca could process what was happening, Zoey closed the space between them and wrapped her in a hug.

"So reserved," she added, her voice playful and fond. "Even now, apparently."

Rebecca froze, her breath caught. The scent of Zoey's light perfume mixed with the faint smell of her hair. It was clean, comforting, and familiar. The weight of the evening, the years of distance and the emotional walls she'd painstakingly built, all of it began to crumble as she felt Zoey's arms tighten around her. Her knees weakened and it took every ounce of strength she had to stay upright. She didn't dare say anything—she knew that her voice would betray her.

"Growing up, you were the smartest person I knew." Zoey's voice was gentle and steady. "I reckon you still are. I don't know what's wrong, but whatever's troubling you, let's see if we can't figure it out."

Rebecca's resolve cracked further. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake her.

"I spoke with Paul already. I'll stop by your office tomorrow," Zoey continued, pulling back slightly but keeping her hands on Rebecca's shoulders. "Okay?"

Rebecca didn't trust herself to speak. She nodded, her throat tight, and stepped back slowly while disentangling herself from the embrace. She swallowed hard, forcing her emotions back into the depths where they belonged.

Her eyes met Zoey's briefly. Those warm, green eyes that saw too much, that always had. Rebecca broke the gaze and turned toward the door. She paused, steadying herself with a deep breath before turning the doorknob and stepping out.

As the door closed behind her, Zoey stayed where she was, arms crossed loosely as she stared at the empty space Rebecca had just vacated. Her thoughts swirled, confused and heavy. Seeing Rebecca again had unearthed emotions she hadn't fully dealt with. There was so much history, so much unspoken between them. One thing was clear though: Rebecca was struggling.

And Zoey couldn't stand by and watch her fall. She would be there, like she had been so many times before—just like Rebecca had been there for her.

Or, at least she'd try.

~~~

Zoey and Rebecca had been inseparable, the kind of best friends people envied. They fitted together seamlessly but were undeniably different. Sure, they shared a love for the same music, movies, food, and lazy afternoons, but beyond those surface-level connections, they were contrasts in motion.

Rebecca was the academic achiever, a natural with numbers, people, and the intricacies of the business world.

Zoey on the other hand was pure kinetic energy, a prodigy of movement. She could master any sport she tried, but it was soccer which claimed her heart early on. It wasn't just talent—it was an art form for her, a language that she spoke with effortless fluency.

Wherever Zoey's cleats left their mark, Rebecca wasn't far behind, cheering her on with unwavering devotion. Rain or shine, Rebecca sat in the stands, Zoey's fiercest supporter.

In return Zoey became Rebecca's tutor in everything outside of sports, offering encouragement, cramming with her late into the night, and sometimes just being a voice of confidence when Rebecca doubted herself.

Their bond was the stuff of legend. They had loved fiercely, fought spectacularly, and sometimes made up just as dramatically.

So, as Zoey currently stood outside Rebecca's office building, she hesitated. She wasn't one to second-guess herself, but something about this moment felt heavier than she expected. She should've been relieved—Rebecca had finally reached out—but the years of silence still lingered between them.

This wasn't the girl who used to fall asleep on her shoulder during movie nights. This was the Rebecca Sanders. And yet, despite everything, Zoey was here.

Taking a breath, she pushed through the doors.

Zoey was escorted to the top floor at Rebecca's work, guided into her office by Paul. Her sneakers padded softly on the polished floor. Rebecca looked up, her lips curving into a small smile. This was the Zoey she remembered. The effortless confidence. She wasn't dressed for attention, just jeans, sneakers and a gray hoodie.

"Hey. Wasn't sure you'd come."

Zoey spun in place, taking in the space with a low whistle. "This whole floor is yours?"

Rebecca leaned back in her chair, her smile turning wry.

"The building's mine. The top floor is my private space. Home away from home, if you will. It's useful for late meetings or when important people visit." She hesitated. "But I chose this space because I figured you'd want some anonymity."

Paul, ever dutiful, excused himself with a polite nod and left. Rebecca gestured for Zoey to follow as she led her around the suite.

"So, what exactly do you do here?" Zoey asked when they circled back to Rebecca's office. She wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, her gaze lifting to the sky. Despite being so high up, the heavens still seemed impossibly far away. Just like Rebecca she had a thing for the unknown.

Rebecca opened the small fridge and pulled out a sealed plastic bowl of fruit which was store-bought, from the supermarket around the corner. She'd remembered how Zoey always liked to nibble on something.

Without a word she handed it over, and Zoey accepted it with a familiar ease that made Rebecca's chest ache with nostalgia. She popped the lid off and started eating without a second thought, just like she used to.

Rebecca explained the empire she had inherited from her father, who had passed way all too soon—the companies she owned, the power she wielded, the intricate web of influence she managed. Zoey listened with genuine interest, asking questions, her green eyes alight with curiosity.

When Rebecca finished explaining, a silence settled between them. After a moment, Zoey tilted her head back, gazing at the sky, exhaling slowly.

"Why did we let go? Why did we have to go our separate ways?"

"It was always written in the stars, wasn't it? My dad wanted me to take over his empire and, well, you're you. You went out and conquered the world."

"I wish I could've been part of your journey."

"You were on one of your own..."

"I know." There was something bittersweet in her voice. "I wish you could've been part of mine, too. I really thought we had something."

"We did have something."

Rebecca could still recall the way they had always danced around each other—always too late, too hesitant, never in sync. Timing had never been their friend.

A beat of silence stretched, thick with things neither of them had the courage to say and it became an uncomfortable weight that settled between them.

Zoey inhaled, straightening slightly. "Thanks for the fruit."

She placed the bowl on the table, as if closing a door neither of them had the nerve to acknowledge. Rebecca's fingers twitched, and before she could think she grabbed Zoey's wrist.

"Are you leaving?"

That one moment flashed before Zoey—the moment they had almost kissed. Almost. But hesitation had held them back, and soon after the time had run out as life had taken them in separate directions. They could have been more, but somehow, they had become less instead. She had hated herself for it then, and she didn't know how to deal with it now.

Zoey pulled her wrist free. "I'm sorry, Becca. I thought I could, but I can't do this again."

Rebecca's throat tightened. "No, wait—why?" She already knew the answer, but she asked anyway. Pleaded anyway.

"Remember what happened two years after we went our separate ways? We finally decided to meet. I reached out first, and then," she exhaled sharply, shaking her head, "you ghosted me. Just disappeared. It wasn't like you, at all."

Rebecca bit her lip, guilt twisting in her stomach.

"And it didn't stop there. I kept trying, Becca. Over and over, but you kept shutting me out. There was one excuse after another. Do you have any idea how that felt?" Zoey's voice dropped, her eyes locked on hers. "Eventually, I stopped trying."

Rebecca opened her mouth to explain, to beg, to saysomething, but nothing came out.

I was the idiot, not you, she wanted to say, but the words were stuck in her throat.

"I'm not even mad anymore," Zoey continued, "I just can't do this again. You were my best friend. Now I'm not even sure I recognize you anymore."

"C'mon, don't say that, please."

"Your fights are your own now. I just wanted to see if you were okay—"

But I'm not.

"—that you're not down in the gutter."

But I am.

Zoey dragged a hand through her hair, her eyes fixed on Rebecca's. You were my first love. The only love I've ever had.

Rebecca noticed the subtle shift in her eyes. She stepped closer, her blue eyes searching Zoey's.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Zoey held her gaze for a moment—a long, agonizing moment. Her heart pounded in her chest as her emotions warred within her. She didn't know how to manage this, didn't know how to speak the truth that had lived inside her for years. Her cheeks flushed, betraying her vulnerability, and she broke the gaze by turning her head away.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

But Rebecca wasn't having it. She reached out and grabbed Zoey's hand, the sudden warmth of her touch sending a jolt through Zoey's body.

"My job, it—it took the best of me. But I never chose this life." Her voice began to tremble. "When my father passed, this, all of this was chosen for me. I was young, I was confused. I wasn't like you. I wasn't headstrong, I'm still not. I'm not sure of myself, like you are. Back then, I didn't know I could say no."

Rebecca's touch was electric against Zoey's skin, a current sparking beneath her fingertips, spreading like wildfire.

"I didn't handle it well. I know. But I'm trying to do better. Why won't you let me?"

Zoey turned, the pain in Rebecca's voice pulling her back.

"I spent years trapped in meeting rooms with people I didn't like, speaking languages I didn't understand. I sat through one miserable family holiday after another because I didn't care about any of them—because my family is a damn disaster. And no one," her breath hitched, tears now slipping down her cheeks, "no one was like you."

"You say that, but—but I tried Becca! And It's not like I can't feel it... Even now, you're still holding something back! Why?"

Rebecca bit her lip. "I don't like it when you're yelling at me."

Zoey laughed incredulously. "I just can't win with you."

"Please don't do this. I don't want to fight." Rebecca looked at Zoey with pleading eyes, struggling to find the right answers, the right words.

Zoey closed her eyes, tried to steady her breathing.

"I get it. You were busy, and life was hectic. I know you were traveling a lot. What about when you came back? I wasn't even worth a phone call? An email? Nothing?"

"When I came back, you were gone. Germany, Sweden, France. You were living your dream playing abroad, surrounded by people who loved you. You had fame, you had fortune. I saw the interviews, you know. You looked... happy. And..."

Zoey's expression softened slightly. "And?"

"And I told myself you didn't need me anymore."

It became quiet between them.

"I don't know why you'd think that. And, I mean, you should have asked me."

"I know. I've played the game of 'should have, could have' so many times."

Rebecca moved, closing the space between them. As a last, desperate attempt, she wrapped her arms tightly around Zoey's waist and rested her forehead against her collarbone, feeling the softness of the hoodie Zoey was wearing.

"Please," she whispered, her voice so soft, a desperate plea. "Please don't give up on us, tiger. Please don't give up on me."

Tiger. It had been a long time since Zoey had heard that, and memories came flooding back. But she didn't return the hug. She couldn't.

Feeling the emptiness in the lack of a response, Rebecca finally let go and stepped back. Her movements were slow and deliberate, like she was trying to hold herself together. She turned and walked to her desk, her fingers unsteady as she pressed a button.

"Go." Her voice was flat, defeated. "Paul will see you out."

Paul appeared in the doorway, his expression calm but watchful. Zoey hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Rebecca, but she said nothing. And then she left, with Paul closing the door behind them.

Rebecca stood there, staring at nothing. Her gaze dropped to the bowl of fruit. Only the cherries remained. Her favorite. Of course Zoey had remembered.

And somehow, that hurt the most.

She cradled the fruit bowl against her chest like it was something fragile. Her head bowed low over it, hair falling forward, eyes squeezed shut. The tears came quietly. There were no sobs, no sound, just the slow, shuddering breaths of someone trying not to fall apart.

~~~

Zoey followed Paul out into the hallway, her steps heavy. As they walked towards the elevator, Paul broke the silence, his tone soft and thoughtful.

"You know, I never quite understood her interest in soccer."

Zoey wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, startled by the unexpected comment. "What are you talking about?"

Paul shrugged. "Sometimes, I'd walk into her office, and she'd have a game on. Not often, just... here and there. Sometimes on mute, sometimes in the background while she worked." He glanced at Zoey meaningfully. "I didn't think she even liked the sport. But now? I guess it makes sense."

Zoey frowned, her curiosity piqued despite the throb in her chest. "She watched my games?"

"I'm not sure," Paul admitted. "She's never been much for sports in general, at least not as far as I know. But she definitely cared about something," he paused, "or someone. And then, one day, she stopped. I don't know why."

Zoey's brows furrowed. "You never asked her about it?"

"I did," Paul said with a small shrug. "She waved me off. She's private like that, always has been. I used to think I understood her better than anyone else, but after seeing the way she looks at you... I realize there's a whole side of her I'll never know. You see her in a way the rest of us can't."

The elevator dinged, and Zoey stepped inside with a heavy heart. She turned to Paul, her voice soft. "Take care of her, will you?"

Paul's smile was gentle but tinged with something bittersweet. "Some things are beyond me, and she doesn't really have anyone else," he replied, and then paused, looking at her meaningfully. "I think it's up to you now."

Before Zoey could respond, the elevator doors slid shut, leaving her alone with her thoughts. By the time she reached the ground floor, Zoey had pulled her hoodie over her head, retreating into herself as she stepped out into the cool night air. She made her way to the subway, her feet moving on autopilot while her thoughts churned relentlessly.

Paul returned to Rebecca's office, finding her seated at her desk staring at nothing. Rebecca Sanders, the formidable woman who ruled boardrooms and able to bend powerful people to her will, suddenly looked impossibly small.

As he stepped in, he noticed the faint sound of a cupboard closing behind her—the kind that clicked shut when done gently but deliberately. A half-full water bottle sat on the desk, and for the briefest second, Paul caught the flicker of orange plastic through the glass, just before she swept a folder in front of it. She didn't mention it, and neither did he.

"Are you alright, Ms. Sanders?"

"I have had better days," Rebecca replied softly, her voice somewhat hollow. "I didn't want this life." She looked up at Paul, suddenly doubting herself. "Did I want this?"

Paul hesitated. He remembered how troubled Rebecca had been when she left her old life, and he suspected that beneath the polished exterior she wasn't nearly as fine as she wanted people to believe. She hid it well—better than most.

"Sometimes, a step back is the only way to move forward," he said cautiously.

Rebecca blinked and looked up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing. Tomorrow's a new day with new beginnings, Ms. Sanders. You'll feel better then."

Rebecca watched him leave, his words stuck in her mind. I don't want new beginnings, she thought bitterly. I want my old ones back.

She bit her lip, suppressing the urge to cry again and grabbed her coat. Without a word, she followed Paul to the elevator, her head held high, but her heart heavier than ever.

~~~

That night, Zoey lay in bed, tossing and turning. She stared at the ceiling, Rebecca's voice haunting her: Please don't give up on me.

Rebecca had pleaded for her to say. Rebecca had been hurting. It was obvious that she had been holding something back, something that she wasn't telling her. And she herself had been so focused on her own pain that she hadn't seen it. The guilt became suffocating and Zoey clutched her pillow and screamed into it, frustration and regret spilling out in muffled cries.

As the weight of everything settled over her, she realized just how much she'd failed. And if there was one thing she did not like, it was failing.

Tomorrow she'd be ready for round two.

Chapter 2

Zoey stormed into the office the following day, her determination as fierce as ever. Rebecca had called her headstrong the other day, and she wore the title proudly, along with at least ten other adjectives that could describe her on any given day. Today she'd add "impulsive" to the list.

Being famous had its perks. A little persuasion and a disarming smile went a long way to get through the security gates. She'd charmed the guard with ease (and an autograph), and with his blessing she'd made it to the elevator, currently on her way to the floor where Rebecca's office was.

As she looked in the elevator mirror she saw herself. Running shoes, black running leggings with a white tank top. Beads of sweat traced slow paths down her temples, strands of dark velvet red hair clung to her forehead. Okay, she could see why she may have caused a bit of a scene in the lobby but it wasn't like she was naked.

As the doors opened, a floor full of men and women in suits revealed themselves. They didn't faze Zoey. She stepped out with the confidence of someone who belonged, even though she so clearly didn't. Heads turned as she strode past, if not for her magnetic energy, for her looks.

"Hey, do you know where Rebecca's office is?" she said to a passing suit, flashing a grin.

A quick word and a gesture later, and it didn't take long to locate Rebecca's corner office. She spotted Paul nearby, his eyes widening in alarm as she waved casually, her other hand on the door knob.

Zoey paused for a split second, nerves kicking in. Apologizing wasn't exactly her strong suit, it never had been, but what she lacked in tact she made up for in effort. And if there was one person she owed it to, it was Rebecca. She was going to fix this.

She turned the doorknob and stepped in. Rebecca's daytime office was smaller than the one upstairs but no less commanding. Zoey paused just long enough to take it in before Rebecca looked up, startled.

"Zoey?"

Zoey crossed the room with ease, her movements deliberate. She didn't stop until she was beside Rebecca at her desk. Then, to Rebecca's shock, Zoey knelt in front of her, her green eyes locking onto Rebecca's with an intensity that made her heart skip.

"I've been an idiot," Zoey said, her voice soft but firm. "I'm sorry. I wasn't there for you then, but I can be now. I'll be better."

Rebecca blinked, her mouth opening slightly as she struggled to find the words. She wasn't very successful.

"How did you get in?" she finally managed.

"Huh? Through the door, you just saw me." She couldn't help but smile. "I turned the door knob all by myself. The things I can do when I put my mind to something."

Rebecca gave her a flat look. "No, I mean, who let you in?"

"Oh, through the security gates? The security guard helped me. He was a delight."

Rebecca frowned. No security guard of hers should be a "delight".

"But... Why are you in your running gear?"


Zoey groaned. "I went for a run. Come on, Becca. Dinner at my place tonight," she continued, undeterred. "We'll talk. I promise I won't ambush you again. I'll even cook."

Rebecca shook her head trying to clear it. "What?"

"She says she'll cook," a dry voice cut in from the speakerphone on the desk.

Both women froze and turned to the monitor. Only then did Zoey realize Rebecca was in the middle of a video conference.

"Uh oh," Zoey murmured, sheepishly scratching the back of her head. "Shit, I'm sorry, Becca. Can they hear me?"

Rebecca nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Can they see me, too?" Zoey asked, grimacing.

Another nod. Rebecca's lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through her shock.

Zoey waved awkwardly at the monitor, and a few people on the other side of the screen waved back, some chuckling. Someone even called out her name.

"Guilty as charged," Zoey said with a small grin. "This brings back memories. Why do my apologies always end up as public events?"

She turned her focus back to Rebecca. "Do you remember when I stole your diary?"

Rebecca's eyebrows shot up. "We were sixteen. You thought I'd written something about you."

"Well, you had," Zoey said with a playful wink.

Rebecca's cheeks turned a shade of pink no one in her office had ever seen before.

"You said you didn't read it!"

"I might've... glanced at a page or two." Zoey grinned mischievously. "You wouldn't talk to me for days. Wouldn't even give me the chance to apologize."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed, the memory clicking into place. "I remember. You were skipping classes. You were outside on the schoolyard—"

"Running from the teacher," Zoey interjected, encouraging her.

Rebecca's eyes widened as the memory came rushing back. "It was summer. All the windows were open, and you—"

"I stood in the middle of the yard, yelling how sorry I was for the entire school to hear," Zoey finished, her grin widening.

A chorus of amused "Awws" echoed from the speaker.

"I'm really sorry," Zoey whispered to Rebecca, her voice suddenly serious again, her green eyes soft and earnest.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, her tone lighter. "You'll cook?" There was a touch of surprise in her voice.

Zoey nodded solemnly. "A lot has happened these past few years."

"Like what?"

"Well, I cook. And I got a driver's license." The pride in Zoey's voice was unmistakable.

Rebecca tilted her head, deadpan. "So, two things?"

"I became alright at soccer, too, you know."

"Who in their right mind gave you a driver's license?" Rebecca mumbled.

Zoey stuck out her tongue, her expression teasing.

"You've always been good at making a scene, Zoey. Let's see if you're just as good at following through."

"Fair enough. But I'll prove it. Tonight. I'll apologize as many times as you need, and we'll talk. Please?"

"Say yes," someone said from the call.

Rebecca said nothing, however. Her lips remained pressed together in thought, but the way her gaze lingered on Zoey was enough.

Zoey reached into her pocket and slipped a small note onto Rebecca's desk. Her address was scrawled across it in her unmistakable handwriting. She backed away slowly, flashing Rebecca a smile before turning to leave.

Rebecca stared at the note, her cheeks still faintly pink as she watched Zoey stride out of her office like she owned the place.

~~~

It was Friday evening when Rebecca stood outside Zoey's door, her heart pounding harder than she would have liked. She had spent far too long deciding what to wear, second-guessing herself at every turn. In the end, she settled on a soft, fitted pale blue sweater that hugged her just right, paired with slim-cut jeans that balanced comfort with effortless elegance. She wasn't one for jewelry, but she wore two small silver earrings—subtle and understated, like most things about her. Casual, but polished.

She knocked, and immediately a series of loud bangs and clangs erupted from inside. Rebecca's lips curled into an amused smirk as she waited. Moments later the door swung open, revealing Zoey in the middle of what looked like absolute chaos.

Her red hair was a mess, strands falling into her face. She huffed, blowing them away, quite unsuccessfully. In one hand, she clutched a bowl of salad. The other gripped the doorframe, steadying herself. An apron was thrown haphazardly over a t-shirt and leggings. If that wasn't the most endearingly chaotic thing Rebecca had ever seen, she didn't know what was.

"Hey! You made it!" Zoey beamed.

Rebecca rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest was undeniable. "You sound surprised."

Zoey just grinned, eyes bright. "I'm not. I knew you'd come."

The sheer honesty in her eyes made Rebecca's stomach flip. Her smile was infectious, and despite herself Rebecca let out a soft laugh.

"Do you need any help with that?" she asked, stepping inside and placing a bottle of wine and a small bouquet of flowers on the counter. She readied her hands to take the bowl.

Zoey handed it over with a relieved sigh. "Thanks."

"So... what exactly are you making?"

"Lasagna!" Zoey yelled from the kitchen, disappearing before Rebecca could reply.

A delicious aroma filled the air, and Rebecca inhaled instinctively. It smelled good. Shockingly good, in fact. Maybe she had underestimated Zoey's cooking skills.

She followed her into the kitchen just as Zoey took out the pan from the oven. With a satisfied clap of her hands she announced, "There!" as if she had just conquered the culinary world.

Rebecca looked around and immediately regretted it. "Jesus Christ, Zoey, it looks like a bomb hit this place. I thought you said you could cook."

Zoey huffed, pulling off her apron. "Hey, I can cook. I never said I was neat about it."

Before Rebecca could fire back another quip, Zoey stepped forward and wrapped her in a warm hug, catching her off guard.

"I'm so glad you came," Zoey murmured against her shoulder.

The heat of Zoey's body against hers was like stepping into sunlight after too long in the shadows. It was overwhelming. Rebecca swallowed, willing herself to keep steady.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Zoey added, pulling back slightly, her tone sheepish. "Let me hit the shower, okay? Pour yourself a glass. I'll be out in a jiffy."

Rebecca nodded as Zoey disappeared down the hall. She took a moment to glance around. The apartment was larger than she expected, rustic and full of character. Earthy tones covered the space, muted colors blending with wood and stone textures. The lighting was warm, dim but cozy, with multiple small lamps casting a soft ambiance. It felt intimate, personal and so very Zoey.

Her eyes drifted back to the kitchen, where the mess was glaringly obvious. With a small shake of her head, she decided the wine could wait. Rolling up her sleeves, she began cleaning up the dishes, a small, inexplicable smile playing on her lips.

She wasn't sure what she had expected, but this, the chaotic warmth of Zoey's space, the lingering nostalgia that came with being alone with her was almost too much to bear. It was like a freight train of feelings was heading straight for her, her past and its emotions catching up with her.

By the time Rebecca finished tidying up, Zoey emerged from the bathroom. Rebecca nearly dropped the glass she was holding.

Zoey stood there, utterly unbothered, dressed in nothing but a black bra and thong. Her damp red hair clung to the side of her head, still drying from the shower. Water droplets glistened on her collarbones, tracing slow paths down her toned stomach.

Rebecca's breath hitched.

She knew Zoey was athletic but somehow, seeing her like this felt entirely different. Her broad shoulders gave way to arms that were strong yet lean, muscles subtly flexing as she ran a towel through her hair. Her stomach was flat, her abs faintly defined beneath smooth skin. Rebecca's gaze dipped lower, trailing over the sculpted lines of her hips, down to the powerful, muscular thighs that had carried Zoey across countless fields, sprinting, leaping, dominating the game she loved.

And her ass. Jesus. Rebecca had seen it before, but never quite like this.

Her cheeks went pink far too quickly, and she cursed herself for it. They'd seen each other in their underwear a thousand times—locker rooms, sleepovers and lazy summer days, but this... This was different.

Zoey, blissfully unaware of the effect she was having, stepped into the kitchen, towel still in hand.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, shaking out her hair.

Rebecca's throat felt dry. She needed a distraction.

"Uh, wasn't sure if you wanted a glass of wine too," she managed, her voice almost steady. She turned back to the counter, forcing herself to focus on pouring rather than staring.

Zoey hummed in thought. "Oh, I can sip on some, thank you. Be right back," she added before heading back to her room to get dressed.

Rebecca exhaled, shaking her head slightly before closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, Zoey had returned, now dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt beneath an unzipped hoodie. She looked effortlessly comfortable, the laid-back energy of her presence filling the space.

Rebecca handed her a glass of wine. "Alright, so... give me the tour?"

Zoey grinned and gestured dramatically. "Welcome to Casa de Zoey."

She led Rebecca through the apartment, her voice animated as she pointed things out with familiarity. The space was bigger than Rebecca had expected: two bedrooms, a spacious living room, multiple bathrooms, and a cozy but well-worn kitchen. It wasn't flashy or over-the-top, but it had character. Not too big, not too small. Comfortable for one, perfect for two, and if life ever took a turn it'd work for three Rebecca mused, though she quickly pushed the thought aside.

Zoey stopped in the living room, gesturing proudly at her favorite spot right in front of the TV, where two large sofas faced each other.

"This right here is where I spend way too much time," she admitted with a chuckle. "I've fallen asleep on these more times than I can count."

"Yeah, that checks out," Rebecca said slowly but with a smile on her face as she recalled Zoey being able to sleep practically wherever, whenever. It wasn't perhaps a skill you'd put on a CV, but boy was she good at turning off her head.

They ate at the kitchen table, the lasagna surprisingly delicious despite the kitchen catastrophe it was born from.

"I will admit that I kind of expected chaos on a plate but this is comfort food done with heart," Rebecca began, somewhere between amused and impressed.

Zoey beamed.

"This is actually really good," Rebecca continued, trying not to sound too surprised.

"Told you I could cook."

"Still not convinced you didn't order it."

"Yeah, well, keep doubting me. You'll be begging me to cook again next week."

Rebecca smiled into her wine. "I'll consider it—if you promise not to destroy your kitchen next time."

"Hey, you cleaned up. I feel like that was a win-win."

"Mhm, you got a free housekeeper out of it."

"I got you out of it," Zoey added, keeping her eyes on her wine glass instead.

Rebecca looked down at her plate, a smile lingering.

From there, the evening unfolded naturally. They lost themselves in stories, reminiscing over shared memories and trading laughter that came easier than either of them expected. Rebecca spoke about her career, her challenges, the endless demands placed on her shoulders, and how her assistant Paul had been her one true constant. She skimmed over the harder details, something Zoey caught quickly, but didn't push.

Zoey, in turn, shared tales of her life overseas, the people she had met, the places she had traveled, the wild experiences that had shaped her. She spoke about food with the same enthusiasm she always had, and Rebecca found herself hanging onto every word.

One conversation led to another, branching into different topics with effortless fluidity. Hours passed unnoticed, the years between them shrinking. The space that once felt insurmountable dissolved into something familiar.

At some point, they ended up curled on the same couch, tucked under a shared blanket, as Jeopardy! played on the screen. It was one of Zoey's favorite shows, and though she put up a good fight, it became clear that Rebecca, being the academic, was the undisputed champion of the night.

Zoey groaned dramatically at her loss making Rebecca laugh, a real, genuine laugh. It was the kind of laugh that Zoey had missed, the kind she didn't even realize she had been waiting to hear again.

The warmth of the evening settled in, and as the day was about to close, Rebecca shifted under the blanket, fingers absently tugging at the edge of the fabric.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. "Forgot my meds."

Zoey, still focused on the tv, barely registered it. "Mhm? Did you say something?"

There was a pause, a hesitation, before Rebecca replied. "Nothing, just vitamins."

Eventually, Rebecca's blinks grew slower, her breathing steadier, until her head dipped against Zoey's shoulder. Zoey glanced down, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of her chest, the soft strands of blonde hair tickling her arm. A few moments later, sleep claimed Zoey too, their bodies leaning into each other as the quiet sounds of the television faded into the night.

Zoey woke in the middle of the night to the soft, distressed sounds of Rebecca's whimpering. Blinking groggily, she glanced down and felt Rebecca's hand pressed flat against her stomach, fingers twitching against the fabric of her shirt as if searching for something, like she was anchoring herself in sleep.

Rebecca's voice, small and frightened, clawed out from sleep. "Zoey."

"Becca?" Zoey murmured softly, her voice laced with concern. She reached down, her fingers brushing lightly over Rebecca's shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the blanket.

"Wake up, Becca, you're dreaming."

Rebecca tensed beneath her touch for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. Zoey could see her brows furrow even in the dim light, the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she struggled against whatever dream had taken hold of her.

"I'm here," Zoey repeated, pulling her close. She stroked Rebecca's shoulder in slow, gentle circles, the way she had when they were younger, when Rebecca used to wake up from bad dreams in the middle of sleepovers. "You're okay," she whispered.

Rebecca stirred with a small gasp, blinking awake, her blue eyes hazy with sleep and a lingering unease.

"It's the middle of the night," Zoey continued softly, voice coaxing. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Rebecca let out a breath, nodding wordlessly.

They made quick work of getting ready for bed. Zoey tossed her hoodie onto the chair in the corner while Rebecca disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time Rebecca emerged, dressed down, her face clean of makeup, she walked towards Zoey with an expression that made Zoey's stomach tighten.

"I don't want to sleep alone," Rebecca admitted.

There was a vulnerability there Zoey rarely got to see, the kind that turned her normally sharp, composed friend into someone softer, someone open. Her blue eyes were big, searching, and Zoey's heart ached at the sight.

"You don't have to."

The moment pulled Zoey back in time to long summer nights at sleepovers, sharing the same bed, whispering until dawn. In the winters, they had curled into each other, pulling the blankets high, chasing warmth. In the summers, they sprawled across whatever mattress they were sharing, limbs tangled, lost in the ease of each other's company.

She also remembered that Rebecca hated sleeping in complete darkness.

Without a word Zoey walked over to the lamp on her nightstand and turned it on, dimming it to a low, soft glow. The warm light painted the room in gentle amber, just enough to ease the heavy shadows.

"That okay?" Zoey asked, glancing at Rebecca who blinked, as if caught off guard.

"I can't believe you remembered."

Zoey shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck. "How could I ever forget?"

Rebecca's lips parted slightly, but whatever she was about to say, she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she simply nodded. As they both undressed, slipping into something more comfortable, Rebecca nudged Zoey with her elbow.

"Do you have a shirt I can borrow?"

Zoey turned instinctively—just in time to see Rebecca unclasp her bra, her bare back illuminated by the low light. The delicate curve of her spine, the way her toned arms moved as she let the straps slide down her shoulders, the slow rise and fall of her breath. It was intimate in a way that had nothing to do with modesty and everything to do with the way Zoey's chest tightened at the sight.

Rebecca had always been effortlessly beautiful, but this, this was different.

Her breasts were full, high, slightly above average for her frame, and even though Zoey had seen them before in locker rooms, on vacations, during their years of friendship, this was the moment that made her pulse stutter. Her skin was smooth, golden in the soft light, and Zoey's eyes traced the way she moved, how she seemed so at ease in her own body, unaware of the effect she had.

Zoey swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away before she let herself linger too long.

"Yeah, of course," she mumbled, quickly grabbing an oversized shirt from her closet and tossing it to Rebecca.

Rebecca caught it effortlessly and slipped it over her head. The loose fabric draped over her body, but Zoey's eyes still caught the way her breasts bounced slightly with the motion, the way the hem of the shirt barely skimmed over the curve of her hips.

"Thank you, tiger," Rebecca whispered, voice soft and warm.

She climbed onto the bed, and Zoey couldn't help but watch. The way she moved, graceful, completely at ease, was mesmerizing. The oversized shirt stretched slightly as she crawled forward, the hem riding up just enough to reveal the deep burgundy of her cheeky-cut panties. They hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating the smooth dip of her lower back, the gentle roundness of her ass.

Zoey bit the inside of her cheek. There were many reasons why Rebecca had been her first love. And the way she owned her body, the way she carried herself without even trying, that had always been one of them.

Zoey exhaled slowly, pushing down the tight feeling in her chest. She flicked off the main light, leaving only the dim glow beside the bed, and climbed in after her.

"Still afraid of monsters under the bed?"

There was no judgement. No jokes, or quips. Rebecca's nights had been difficult when they were young. Zoey had learned to recognize the signs—the way Rebecca would lie stiff and silent, staring at the ceiling, pretending she wasn't afraid. How some nights, she'd show up at Zoey's door without a word, a gentle knock calling for attention. Zoey had never asked why. She had just made space.

Rebecca gave a bitter smile. "No. The only monsters are the ones in my head."

Zoey looked at her friend. She wanted to pull Rebecca into her arms, but would she cross a line in doing so? She bit her lip, and then she wrapped the arm around her, pulling Rebecca into her embrace. Rebecca yelped in surprise as she became the little spoon.

"Monsters, huh? Then they will have to face the both of us."

She kissed the back of Rebecca's head, her arm securely fastened around her torso.

"Get some shuteye," she murmured, and soon both of them were fast asleep.

~~~

Rebecca woke the next morning to the gentle glow of dawn seeping in through the bedroom windows. The space next to her was empty. She shifted slightly, the scent of Zoey still lingering on the pillow next to her, a mix of warmth and faint citrus.

She blinked, yesterday flooding back in waves. The laughter, the long conversations, the comfort of familiarity. She stretched slowly, rolling onto her back, exhaling softly.

Then, she heard the front door open and close with practiced quiet.

Turning her head toward the doorway, she saw Zoey step in, dressed in joggers and a tank top, sweat glistening down her skin, her red hair damp at the edges from the cool morning air.

The morning run, Rebecca mused, a small smile tugging at her lips. Some things never changed.

"Morning," Zoey greeted, her voice a little breathless, a lazy smile on her face as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Morning," Rebecca murmured, her eyes trailing over her before she caught herself.

Zoey hesitated for only a second before moving toward the bathroom. "Gonna grab a shower," she said over her shoulder.

Rebecca sat up, running a hand through her hair before heading to the kitchen. She brewed coffee as the sun continued its slow ascent over the skyline, bathing the apartment in golden hues. It was going to be a beautiful day.

And, just like yesterday, time slipped through their fingers.

Morning turned into day, day melted into afternoon, and before either of them realized it, the sun was beginning its descent.

They took a long walk through the city, the crisp air biting at their cheeks as they lost themselves in conversation. They shared stories, like Zoey's attempt at skiing, which nearly ended in disaster, a tale that had Rebecca laughing so hard she nearly had to stop walking. In return, Rebecca told her about bungee jumping, a one-time experience she swore she'd never repeat. Zoey had nearly doubled over in laughter at the mental image of Rebecca, ever composed, screaming mid-fall.

They reminisced about their visits to the White House, how they had both but through entirely different paths ended up shaking hands with the president. Zoey had been honored for her athletic achievements, while Rebecca had been pulled into high-profile business meetings. Two entirely separate worlds, and yet somehow they always found their way back to each other.

By late afternoon, they were comfortably exhausted, wandering back toward Zoey's place when she finally asked, "It's only Saturday. Do you have to go home already?"

"I have to go. I'm sorry," Rebecca replied, her voice quieter now, like she didn't want to say the words out loud. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning for a business trip..." Her words trailed off, hesitation flickering in her eyes. "I really wish I could stay, though."

Zoey caught the way Rebecca's fingers twitched slightly at her sides.

"What's wrong?" Zoey asked gently.

Rebecca looked down, her jaw tightening. Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of passing cars. Zoey gave her a moment before stepping closer.

"Becca, sweetie? You know, you haven't actually said what you wanted to say. Why did you reach out to begin with?"

Rebecca exhaled slowly but shook her head and Zoey studied her for a long beat.

"Something's eating at you, mhm?"

A small nod.

Zoey smiled, biting her lip. It wasn't the first time she had to drag something out of her stubborn friend. Oh, how some things never changed. Without another word, she reached out and took Rebecca's hand.

Rebecca's fingers curled around hers instinctively, and for a second, she clung to the warmth Zoey offered before murmuring, "I miss my old home."

Zoey's grip tightened slightly. "Okay. Yeah, I get that." She let the words settle, considering them. "Do you miss home, or do you miss the way things used to be?"

Rebecca hesitated, then sighed. "Maybe a bit of both."

Zoey nodded slowly. "Is it your job giving you a hard time?"

"Kind of, yeah, but..." Rebecca's fingers twitched in her hand. Her voice was smaller now, almost fragile. "It's mostly me."

Zoey frowned slightly, watching Rebecca's face for any hint of explanation. "What do you mean?"

Rebecca didn't answer, her gaze flickering downward, avoiding Zoey's probing stare. Zoey wasn't sure what made her do it, but she pulled her keys from her pocket, unhooked one, and pressed it into Rebecca's palm.

Rebecca stared at it like it was something precious. "Why?" she finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Zoey rubbed the back of her neck. "If you need to get away from whatever's messing with you, I'm here, okay? And so is my place. I know it's not home, but maybe I... I don't know." She scuffed her shoe against the ground. "It's the closest to home I can offer."

Rebecca swallowed, still staring at the key in her palm, turning it over between her fingers. She let out a breath, something unreadable flickering across her face.

"Thank you," she said softly, and it wasn't just gratitude—it was something deeper, something more.

Zoey nudged her shoulder. "Hey, where's that girl who rules boardrooms and corporate empires?"

Rebecca grimaced. "She's been quiet lately."

"Huh," Zoey mused. "Rumor has it she's strong and powerful."

Rebecca scoffed. "An exaggeration."

Zoey tilted her head, eyes searching Rebecca's face. "Why don't you like her?"

Rebecca hesitated. "She doesn't feel like me. Or... like the person I want to be."

Zoey didn't respond right away. She just studied Rebecca, absorbing her words. After a moment, Zoey cleared her throat, shifting slightly.

"I'll be gone for a week or so. Training camp with the national team before the World Cup qualifications. Let's have a real chat when I come back, okay?"

Rebecca nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Okay." She stared at her for a second longer before glancing at the key again. "Hey, you're, um... not seeing anyone?"

Zoey raised a brow. "Me?" She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "I'm all over the place. Who'd even put up with me?"

Rebecca wanted to reply I would but the words stayed trapped in her throat. Instead, she forced a small smile.

"I'm sure there's someone out there for you."

Zoey just shrugged, unconvinced. "Yeah, maybe."

Rebecca stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Zoey in a tight hug. Zoey responded in kind, and for a moment she just held her there, letting the warmth of Zoey's embrace ground her.

"Thank you," Rebecca whispered. "So much."

Zoey exhaled softly, squeezing her back. "It'll be okay, Becca. I promise."

~~~

It was late by the time Zoey got home at the end of the week. The apartment was still, the kind of stillness that settles when someone has been waiting but has since given up. As she turned the key in the lock, stepping inside, her gaze immediately caught on a pair of heels neatly placed by the door—Rebecca's.

Her brows lifted slightly. She hadn't expected company, least of all at this hour. Glancing at her watch, she noted the time. Just past eleven.

Moving quietly through the dim apartment, she made her way to the living room. The soft glow of a single lamp cast warm light over the space, stretching gentle shadows across the walls. And there, curled against the couch, was Rebecca, fast asleep.

Zoey paused, taking her in.

A pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, slightly askew as if she had nodded off mid-sentence. Zoey's lips quirked. Since when did Rebecca need those? Papers rested haphazardly in her lap, some threatening to slip onto the floor, evidence of a battle lost against exhaustion.

The coffee table bore more traces of her presence. There were neatly stacked documents, an expensive pen resting atop crisp pages, and a sleek black leather notebook with a soft binding. Coffee cups. Her diary, maybe? Zoey's fingers twitched with curiosity, but she resisted, her focus drawn back to Rebecca.

She looked... different like this. Softer. The sharp edges dulled by sleep, tension smoothed from her features. There was a vulnerability in the way she rested, in the way her breath rose and fell in quiet rhythm, as if the weight of the world had momentarily slipped from her shoulders.

Zoey let out a slow breath. How long has she been here?

She glanced toward the guest room, its bed neatly made—Rebecca's doing, no doubt. A small smile tugged at Zoey's lips as she pulled back the covers, smoothing them out before padding back to the couch.

She crouched beside Rebecca, hesitating for a moment before reaching out. She removed the glasses from Rebecca's nose, setting them on the table. Her fingertips barely grazed her skin, but even that fleeting contact sent something warm curling in Zoey's chest.

Rebecca stirred, a quiet sound escaping her lips, but she didn't wake. Zoey exhaled, slipping her arms carefully and effortlessly beneath Rebecca's frame and lifted her.

Rebecca shifted against her, instinctively seeking warmth, her head resting against Zoey's shoulder. Zoey froze for half a second before adjusting her hold, the scent of Rebecca's perfume—subtle, expensive, familiar—brushing against her senses.

She carried her through the apartment, past the soft hum of the city outside, into the guest room. The bed was cool beneath Rebecca's weight as Zoey lowered her onto the mattress with deliberate care. For a moment, she lingered, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her lashes fluttered as if caught in a dream.

She really was beautiful.

Zoey brushed a few strands of golden hair away from her face, letting her fingers ghost over her cheek for just a second longer than necessary.

She swallowed, shaking her head at herself before stepping back. With quiet precision, she pulled the covers over Rebecca, tucking her in as if she belonged here, as if this wasn't something new.

After a final glance, Zoey dimmed the bedside lamp and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

For the first time in a long time, the apartment didn't feel quite so empty.

~~~

Zoey was taller, stronger. Hungrier.

Her thighs framed Rebecca's body, pressing into her with an authority that sent heat pooling between Rebecca's legs. The world around them didn't exist—only this, only Zoey, only the raw, unbearable heat of her presence.

Rebecca had no control, no thoughts beyond the feeling of Zoey's hands sliding down her body, fingers spreading her open with a deliberate ease. Like she already knew exactly how to take her apart. Then, without warning, her mouth was there. It was hot, wet, her tongue stroking deep, curling, flicking over Rebecca's clit with the kind of precision that shattered any hope of restraint.

Rebecca gasped, but the sound came out ragged, swallowed by the thick air between them. She was drowning in pleasure, but she didn't want to be saved.

Zoey moaned against her, the vibration sending a sharp, electric pulse through Rebecca's core. Her hips bucked, her body seeking more, needing more, and Zoey gave it to her—her tongue moving in slow, devastatingly deliberate strokes, each one dragging Rebecca closer to the edge.

The heat, the weight of Zoey's body, the slick, obscene sounds filling the air... It was too much and not enough all at once. Rebecca clawed at the sheets, then at Zoey's shoulders, her nails sinking into bare skin. Had Zoey been naked before? It didn't matter.

Because now Zoey was moving, her body shifting, and suddenly Rebecca's mouth was full of her, Zoey pressing down, grinding against her lips, the taste of her intoxicating and heavy on Rebecca's tongue.

Rebecca whimpered, her hands flying to Zoey's ass, pulling her closer until she was completely smothered beneath her, until there was no space left between them at all.

Zoey moaned. It was a desperate, breathless sound—and she rolled her hips in slow, sinful circles, riding Rebecca's tongue, her thighs flexing, tightening, locking her in place. Claiming her.

"Fuck, yes," Zoey groaned, her voice thick, vibrating through Rebecca's bones.

Rebecca's entire body shuddered. She wanted this forever. Her tongue flicked, stroked, devoured, and Zoey's moans turned into curses, then into broken pleas. Her fingers tangled in Rebecca's hair, tugging, guiding, her thighs slightly trembling as her pleasure built, threatening to snap.

Zoey fell apart. She shuddered, her pussy clenching around Rebecca's tongue, soaking her, drenching her lips. She ground down harder, riding out every pulse of her orgasm, using Rebecca's mouth the way Rebecca wanted to be used.

Rebecca was so close—on the very edge, teetering and needing, but suddenly the warmth vanished. She gasped, reaching for Zoey, but her fingers met nothing.

Her body jerked awake, heart hammering against her ribs. She swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling. The sheets clung to her skin, sticky with sweat, the pulse between her legs still throbbing from pleasure that felt too real to be imagined.

She inhaled slowly, reality settling in. The room was dark except for the dim glow of her bedside lamp.

Her hand slid between her legs, pressing against the heat, the wetness—undeniable proof of what had just happened. She slipped her fingers into her panties, chasing her own release, but it was nothing like what her dream had given her.

Yet, it had felt so real.

Wait, where was she? Memories clicked into place, slow and groggy. She had fallen asleep on the couch, papers spread around her. Was Zoey home? She must have carried her to bed.

A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought.

She pushed back the covers, her bare legs instantly meeting the cool air. It sent a shiver down her spine as she slipped out of bed, padding barefoot across the apartment, still wearing the blouse she wore to sleep.

The space felt different with Zoey home. Quieter, yet... warmer. Like something intangible but unmistakable had settled in with the night. Rebecca reached Zoey's room, the door slightly ajar. She stopped, fingers grazing the frame. Was this too much? She gnawed at her thumb, then exhaled and pushed forward, nudging Zoey gently.

Zoey stirred, barely conscious, her voice a sleepy hum. "Mhm... since when do you ask permission?"

A soft smile passed Rebecca's lips at the familiar, half-conscious response. She slipped beneath the covers, the warmth instantly engulfing her as she moved closer. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Zoey's waist, pressing herself against the familiar shape of her.

Zoey exhaled, the scent of Rebecca's hair filling her senses—something faintly floral, something distinctly her. She instinctively pulled Rebecca closer, their bodies fitting together the way they always had, like puzzle pieces falling into place.

"You're home," Rebecca murmured, the words soft against Zoey's skin.

"Came home late last night," Zoey replied drowsily. "You okay?"

"Mhm. Did you carry me to bed?"

"Yeah, didn't want to wake you. Should I have?"

"No," Rebecca whispered, smiling lazily, the memories of her dream her own.

Zoey hummed softly, her fingers dragging a slow, absentminded path along Rebecca's back. Rebecca purred in response, pressing her face against the hollow of Zoey's throat, warm breath fanning against her collarbone.

It wasn't new.

They had shared beds before—long summer nights tangled in sheets, stolen naps between study sessions, lazy mornings where neither of them wanted to get up. It had never meant anything, or at least never led to anything.

Or had it?

Zoey's mind turned over the thought, slow and careful, but it was difficult to think with Rebecca this close. The way she tucked herself against her, trusting, familiar.

Zoey had never shown an interest in men growing up, and Rebecca must have always known. And Rebecca? She had dated men before. Had kissed them, let them love her. It had never been clear to Zoey whether Rebecca had really loved them back. The relationships never lasted more than few weeks to a couple of months, but Rebecca had never seen distraught over it. The only thing Zoey was sure of was that she'd never seen Rebecca having an interest in women.

And yet... Now, the space between them felt charged. Different.

Zoey's fingers flexed against Rebecca's back, her thumb still stroking in slow, idle circles. She hadn't even realized she was doing it. Rebecca's breath was warm, steady. The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, but thick with something neither of them was saying.

A minute passed. Then another. And another. Time felt both suspended and fleeting, stretching impossibly long and yet slipping away too fast.

"I should go," Rebecca whispered, breaking the quiet.

Zoey's eyes opened, suddenly more awake.

"I don't mind having you here," she murmured, her voice rougher in the morning quiet.

Rebecca chuckled softly. "No, I need to get home. Can't freeload every day." A pause. "Thanks for giving me a place to stay."

Zoey swallowed, fingers twitching slightly before she finally spoke.

"Hey, uh... we have an exhibition game on Wednesday. Why don't you come?"

"Evening?"

"Yeah. Mhm."

"... I'll try. There's this stupid business trip but if I can make it, I will."

She inhaled Zoey one last time before finally shifting away, slipping out from the warmth of her arms. The loss of contact made something twist in Zoey's chest, but she didn't say anything. Rebecca tiptoed out, the absence of her warmth lingering in the sheets.

Zoey rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. Rebecca was gone, but her scent remained and her touch lingered. What were they doing?

In the kitchen, Rebecca quietly prepared the coffee machine, setting it up so that all Zoey had to do was press the button. How many times had they done that for each other when they were younger? A small gesture, a small thank you—something familiar for Zoey when she got up.

Satisfied, she gathered her things, slipped on her heels, and dialed her driver as she stepped out the door. Even as she left, a quiet ache settled in her chest, already missing the warmth of the apartment, the pull of Zoey's emerald eyes and the effortless confidence that always seemed to draw her in.

Chapter 3

It was halftime. Zoey leaned against the wall in the locker room, her mind replaying every missed opportunity, every blocked pass as the background chatter of her teammates buzzed around her. The opposing defense had been relentless, cutting off every angle before she could even think about taking a shot.

A low knock sounded at the door. Rebecca peeked her head in, her gaze flicking to the coach, who nodded in recognition.

"Zoey, can I borrow you for a few minutes?"

Zoey straightened. "Uh, yeah," she said, unable to mask her surprise. She followed Rebecca outside.

"What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be on a business trip?"

Rebecca shrugged, a little too casually. "Shuffled a few things around." Like takeoff. "I wanted to see you play."

Zoey dropped her gaze, hiding the ridiculous warmth blooming in her chest.

"Remember when we were young?" Rebecca asked, a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah?"

"And how I used to watch you play?"

Zoey swallowed, her lips twitching. "Uh-huh." God, she looks adorable.

Rebecca took a small step closer. "Do you know what the difference between then and now is?"

"Um..."

Rebecca's smile turned sharp. "You used to score." Any trace of softness vanished. Arms crossed, her tone edged with something dangerously close to disappointment. "So tell me, what exactly are you doing out there?"

Zoey huffed. "Uh, trying to win?"

"Oh, that's what we're doing." Rebecca clicked her tongue. "Must've forgotten what winning looks like. You see, in the old days, the ball actually went into the goal."

Zoey shot her an unamused look.

"What's wrong? You tired?" Rebecca pressed.

Zoey sighed, raking a hand through her hair. "No, I'm just frustrated. I can't get a hold of the ball."

"It's because they're baiting you."

Zoey's brow furrowed. "N-no, they're... not."

Rebecca sighed audibly. "Really?"

Zoey's frustration flickered. Her mind rewound through key moments of the first half, doubt creeping in.

"They're baiting you," Rebecca repeated, her voice firm. "And you're falling for it. Every time."

A beat of silence.

"... How?"

"Number 15 is key. She pulls you in, then you're flanked by two others. Your teammates can't get you the ball."

Zoey chewed the inside of her cheek, her foot tapping restlessly. "Why the hell don't I see this?"

And just for a moment, for the briefest of moments, Rebecca saw something rare—Zoey was unsure.

Rebecca fought the instinct to tilt Zoey's chin up, to center her like she had so many times before. Instead, she raised her fist and gently pressed it against Zoey's chest.

"They're rotating their players. A bold move, but they're pulling it off. They're building a pattern, cutting off your rhythm." Her voice softened, almost admiring. "It's actually kind of brilliant, if you know what to look for."

Zoey exhaled sharply, Rebecca's fist still resting lightly against her chest.

"Hey—"

Zoey's gaze lifted, meeting hers.

"—they respect you. Their entire defense is built around stopping you. That says something."

Zoey shifted, the weight of the words settling in. "Yeah? And what do I do about it?"

"That's for you to figure out."

Zoey's frustration morphed into something else—determination.

Rebecca glanced at her watch.

"You're starting any minute now, and I need to leave too, but..." she tilted her head, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Show 'em you got some heart, okay?"

Zoey nodded, but her mind was elsewhere, already working on a solution. She turned and disappeared through the door.

Go get them, tiger.

Rebecca lingered just long enough to watch the start of the second half. Then, just as she reached the stadium's exit, a deafening roar erupted from the stands. Rebecca's head snapped up, eyes flicking to the jumbotron, just in time to see Zoey's shot rocket toward the goal, ricocheting off the goalpost into the net.

A smile ghosted across Rebecca's lips. "There we go," she murmured to herself, letting the noise of the stadium wash over her.

~~~

The following day, late afternoon, Rebecca knocked on Zoey's door. It took a beat before Zoey opened, yawning.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," Rebecca said sheepishly, a newspaper tucked under her arm, a small paper bag in her hand.

"No, no, it's fine," Zoey mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I shouldn't be sleeping now anyway. Come in." She stepped aside.

Rebecca made her way into the kitchen. "Have you eaten yet?"

Zoey shook her head. "Just a shake."

Without another word, Rebecca pulled out a container of freshly sliced fruit, rummaged through the cabinets for a small bowl and spoon, and poured the contents in. She topped it off with some nuts before sliding it across the table.

"I heard you won yesterday."

"Thanks to you," Zoey said as she sat down, pulling the bowl closer.

Zoey blinked. "This isn't store-bought. You didn't have to—"

"I know, but I wanted to," Rebecca cut in smoothly, placing a chilled bottle of water in front of her.

A genuine smile crept onto Zoey's face as she dug in. Meanwhile, Rebecca flipped open today's newspaper, skimming a certain page before laying it in front of her friend.

"I usually avoid reading about you, to be honest. The things I've seen the papers say..." She shook her head. "But this one stuck with me."

Zoey's brows furrowed as she glanced at the headline:

'Is She Really In It to Win It?'

"What's this?" she muttered, scanning the article. The writer questioned her drive and her focus. He pointed out lackluster performances, missed opportunities, the games where she should have dominated but didn't.

Zoey scoffed. "You believe everything you read?" Her defenses went up as she took another bite of banana.

Rebecca shrugged. "You know I don't. But this time, I wonder."

Zoey's grip tightened around her spoon. "The papers are wrong. I haven't lost shit."

Rebecca arched an eyebrow. She heard the defiance, but something was missing. Conviction. She let the silence stretch.

"The other day, during the game—why didn't you see it?"

Zoey started to reply, then faltered. She should have caught it. Rebecca tilted her head, watching the flicker of doubt cross Zoey's face.

"You missed it. And you know you did," Rebecca pressed on.

Zoey's jaw clenched. "Everything's fine, Becca."

It wasn't. Rebecca knew better. But she also had her own secrets, her own ghosts. She wouldn't push, not now.

"Okay. I just wanted to check in on you."

She stood up, and as she turned to leave Zoey's hand shot out, catching her wrist.

"Wait."

Rebecca glanced back. "Mhm?"

"I live for this. You know I do. But soccer isn't what it used to be. Nowadays, it's as much about the game as it is about presenting the game. Interviews, red carpets, galas, promoting the sport—it's just..." She sighed. "It's a lot, Becca."

Rebecca lowered herself to Zoey's level. "So limit your perspective. Pick a target, pick a goal, like the World Cup. You can still do the other stuff, but know where your main priorities lie. I mean, out on the field, you used to have the eyes of a tiger. I didn't see those eyes yesterday."

"It's just different now," Zoey continued. "I'm in my early thirties. The women coming up now? They're hungrier. Stronger. Faster." Zoey fiddled with the edge of her napkin, looking for the right words. "I go to conferences. I try to engage in promoting women's soccer, you know? Pave the way for the future."

"I know, and it's because of people like you, who fight for the sport, for women's rights in it, that made it possible for the newer generations to really give their all." Rebecca smiled. "Remember that shitty gym you used to go to, with those scraggy weights? How much of a challenge it was before you had made a name for yourself? And look at the kids now, the possibilities they have, the facilities they have access to, because of you."

Zoey nodded slowly.

"But it doesn't matter. You're better. Your ball control, your eye for the game, the way you're able to still surprise spectators and other players alike with your soccer. You're not unbeatable, you're not invincible, no one is, but you're still at the very top of the echelon."

Zoey bit her lip, feeling a slow warmth creep up her neck, yet, she hesitated, her voice dipping lower as her fingers traced idle circles on the table.

"Like I said, I'm early thirties and, you know, I don't really have anyone at home. My life revolves around the game, like, all aspects of it. And a part of me is wondering... Where am I actually going?"

Rebecca's stomach tightened at that. She remembered Zoey mentioning she wasn't seeing anyone. She should've been relieved, felt relieved, but instead, something unsettled coiled beneath her ribs. She forced her voice to remain neutral.

"Is it hard to meet someone?"

Zoey sighed, leaning back in her chair. "It's difficult. I mean, I have dated. A few other players." She ran a hand through her hair, voice lighter, but something unspoken lingered underneath. "I can be... a lot sometimes. Hard to meet someone outside of the field."

Rebecca's expression softened. "Why didn't you tell me this was on your mind?"

Zoey looked away, staring at the wall as if the answer could be found there. Was it embarrassment? Shame? Something else?

"We've only just... reconnected," she said finally, her voice quieter now. "It feels like you have a lot on your plate."

Rebecca nodded slowly, taking that in. "That's fair," she admitted, "but I will always make time for you, you dingus."

Rebecca studied her, then tilted her head. "We okay? Your pride's intact?"

Zoey let out a small chuckle. "We're okay. I don't care what anyone else thinks." A pause as her fingers curled against the table. "I care what you think... So, What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Rebecca hesitated—long enough for Zoey to notice.

"Yeah, about that..." Rebecca's words trailed off, and for the first time, she looked uncomfortable. Zoey, sensing it, immediately switched gears.

"'Dingus'," she said, raising a brow as she grabbed a bite of pineapple. "I prefer being a tiger."

Rebecca hummed, pretending to consider it. Then, after a moment, she reached out and took Zoey's free hand in hers.

Her fingers were gentle, tracing over Zoey's knuckles before slowly turning her palm upward. The inside of Zoey's hand was rough—calloused from years of training, marked by her relentless dedication.

"You're a dingus in disguise," she murmured, her voice teasing but soft. "Show me the eye of a tiger, and maybe I'll give you your title back."

Zoey chuckled, but her gaze flickered down to where Rebecca's hand still caressed hers. The warmth of her touch sent something tight through Zoey's chest—something unspoken, something dangerous.

And then, suddenly, as if making a decision in real-time, Rebecca inhaled and said, "There's something I want to show you—" She corrected herself. "Something I need to show you."

Zoey blinked, her mind still caught on the feeling of Rebecca's fingers on her skin.

"Hmm?"

"Can we go to my place?"

Zoey studied her for a second, then gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Okay."

Rebecca exhaled, and something in her shoulders relaxed.

"We'll take the subway."

The ride through the city was quiet, but not the kind of quiet that begged to be filled. It was comfortable, the kind of silence that existed between people who didn't need words to understand each other.

Zoey sat beside her, stealing glances every now and then. Rebecca, ever composed, gazed at the world passing by outside, the lights of the city reflected in her distant blue eyes.

When they arrived, Rebecca led the way, unlocking the door and stepping inside first. The grand apartment unfolded before them. It was spacious, sleek, and perfect. The kind of place that money could buy, dressed in the finest furniture, adorned with carefully curated décor.

Zoey didn't say anything, but she could feel it. The shift in the air. The way Rebecca's shoulders tensed as soon as she stepped inside. The quiet, almost imperceptible hesitation in her movements.

"You okay?" Zoey asked gently, turning to her.

Rebecca's lips pressed together, her gaze sweeping across the apartment like she was looking at a stranger's home.

"It's been my home since I came back from abroad... But it isn't me." Her voice was quiet, almost lost in the vast space around them.

Zoey exhaled softly. "No," she admitted. "It's not." No books left open on the coffee table. No scattered papers. No forgotten coffee cups.

Rebecca rubbed her arms as if trying to shake off an invisible weight. "I don't like it," she murmured. "I feel like I've lost a part of myself."

Zoey frowned, a tightness settling in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. Rebecca feeling lost wasn't something she was used to, so, for now, she did what she could—she reached out and squeezed her hand.

"Do you remember how my old room used to be chaos?" Rebecca asked, her voice softer now. "At least it was mine."

Zoey did remember. She could still picture it perfectly, with Rebecca at her desk, scribbling away, surrounded by an avalanche of papers and books. And Zoey herself, usually perched by the window, watching the city, listening to the steady scratch of Rebecca's pen. And in college, it had been the same. Their shared space had been filled with life, cluttered in a way that was real, lived-in.

This? This was just... sterile.

Zoey gave Rebecca's hand another squeeze. "Now tell me," she murmured, "what did you want to show me?"

Rebecca exhaled, then turned and led the way deeper into the apartment. They stepped into the en-suite bathroom connected to her bedroom. Zoey watched as Rebecca hesitated for just a second before reaching for the cabinet. And then, she opened it.

Zoey's stomach tightened. The shelf was lined with pill bottles. Some were full, some half-empty, a few lying on their sides like they'd been abandoned mid-thought.

"What's this?" she asked, stepping forward. Her hand moved on instinct, fingers brushing over one of the labels.

"For insomnia?" she murmured. Her head turned slightly, catching the way Rebecca looked down at the floor, silent.

She reached for another. "This one's for sleep, too." Her voice lowered. "And this—stress. Anxiety."

One by one, she lifted them and read their labels. Her hand tightened around the last two: Antidepressants. Six bottles total. All of them saying more than Rebecca could.

Zoey exhaled sharply, looking at Rebecca with disbelief. "This isn't a bathroom cabinet, Becca. This is a pharmacy."

Rebecca let out a small, humorless laugh. "You asked me if I was seeing anyone. Well, no. I'm a bit of a handful myself."

Zoey turned to fully face her, heart hammering against her ribs. A million questions swirled in her mind, but the first one stuck out the most: Why didn't you tell me?

"Who knows?"

Rebecca looked small. "Only my psychiatrist. I guess Paul suspects something." A pause, and then quieter, "Are you disappointed?"

Zoey's expression didn't waver. "Only in myself. I should have seen something, but yeah, gotta say, you hide it well."

"I've had years of practice."

Zoey hummed as she carefully put the bottles back, one by one, realization dawning on her. "This is what made you pull me back into your life, isn't it?"

Rebecca gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"When did it start?"

"Hard to say. Started early, I think..." Rebecca began, her eyes flicking away. "It turned out I had a hard time adjusting to a life without you. I didn't adjust, not really. I just... existed."

Memories came flashing back, and her breathing became erratic. She blinked rapidly, hoping to hold the tears at bay but a few slipped through anyway.

"And holidays... god, I dreaded them. Sitting around tables with people I didn't care about, who didn't care about me. My family's a mess, Zoey. But at least back then..." She swallowed. "At least I had you." Her breath hitched. "And no one was ever like you."

Zoey's voice came quieter now. "That first time we were supposed to meet again... what happened?"

"I was so happy you called, you have no idea. But the closer we got to that day, the worse it got. My head started spinning. What if you were angry? What if you hated me?"

"Sweetie..."

"There was no rhyme or reason to it. Just shame." Rebecca took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "I was so scared you'd look at me like everyone else did, like I was broken. Or worse... a disappointment."

Rebecca swallowed and wiped away a few tears with her sleeve before she continued:

"I didn't even make it to the door. I couldn't. I'm sorry, Zoey, I really am. When you were waiting for me, I was on the floor, in the dark, crying so hard I couldn't breathe." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I hated myself for it. I still do."

Zoey's voice softened further. "And the other times?"

"It was like that, but worse, each time. The closer we got, the more I spiraled. The pressure, the fear, it all wrapped around my chest like a vice. Stress, anxiety... My psychiatrist says it feeds my depression. Like it's this neat little cycle. But living in it? It's not neat. It's just... endless."

Zoey nodded slowly, finally understanding. "I want to help, Becca. Tell me what you need. What can I do to make things better?"

Rebecca was silent for a long moment before she finally mumbled. "I don't know."

Zoey stepped closer, her voice gentle. "That's alright. You don't have to know yet."

She touched Rebecca's chin, gently lifting it so their eyes met.

"But whatever it is, whatever you figure out—I'll be here. We'll figure it out together, yeah?"

Rebecca stared at her, lips parting slightly, her breath shaky.

"I..." she swallowed, "I want help. I want a place to call home."

Zoey's heart clenched. She knew that took everything for Rebecca to admit. Nodding resolutely, she stroked Rebecca's cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against her skin.

"Then we start there."

Rebecca leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second.

"I was scared," she whispered. "Scared you'd be mad. Disappointed. That you'd leave."

Zoey's thumb continued caressing her cheek slowly. "Why would you think I'd leave you when you need me?"

The tears were making their way down Rebecca's cheeks before the words even came out of her mouth.

"Because I thought I didn't deserve you anymore."

There was no warning when the dam broke.

Rebecca's face crumpled like a child trying not to cry, and then she just... gave in.

Zoey didn't wait. She caught her instantly, wrapping both arms around her, holding tight—like she could protect her from the weight of everything: the past, the silence, the guilt. One hand pressed firm between Rebecca's shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of her head, fingers threading gently into her hair.

Rebecca collapsed into her. Her breath stuttered, snagged in her throat. The sobs came in broken starts, catching before they fully formed, her whole body trembling in Zoey's arms.

"Hey, hey," Zoey whispered, rocking her gently. "I've got you. I've got you, baby."

Rebecca clung to her like she might disappear, her fists curling into Zoey's shirt. The tears came harder now, raw and messy, pulled from somewhere deep. Zoey cradled the back of her head, murmuring quiet things against her hair.

"You're safe, baby. You're safe with me. You're not alone. You're so loved, Becca. So, so loved."

The world narrowed to just this—two bodies tangled in quiet surrender. Minutes passed, or maybe just moments. They blurred together, suspended in warmth and the quiet miracle of being held when it mattered most.

Eventually, Rebecca's sobs began to fade, no longer violent, just soft waves rolling back out to sea. Her hands uncurled. Her breathing slowed. She sagged in Zoey's arms, spent and quiet, cheek resting against the slope of Zoey's shoulder.

Outside, the world carried on. Traffic in the distance, wind against the windows, but inside there was only stillness. Zoey's thumb brushed absently across Rebecca's spine, tracing circles through the fabric. Rebecca's eyelashes fluttered once, then stilled.

Two people frozen in an embrace that held years of hurt and the fragile beginnings of healing. It wasn't loud, it wasn't dramatic, but for Rebecca and Zoey, it became the start of something new.

"You never stopped deserving me," Zoey whispered, brushing her lips against Rebecca's temple. She pulled back just enough to gently wipe the tears from Rebecca's cheeks with her thumb. "You made me who I am. Of course you deserve me. And so much more."

She kissed her again, just above her brow, and held her for a beat longer before easing back slightly, but still keeping her close.

"This is what we're going to do," she said gently. "Let's pack some clothes for you. You're staying at my place from now on. We'll call your psychiatrist together. And when you're ready..." She paused, fingers brushing a tear from Rebecca's cheek, "... we'll talk about the meds. On your terms."

Rebecca made a quiet, broken sound, but she nodded. Zoey gave her one last squeeze before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.

"Come on," she whispered with a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind Rebecca's ear. "Let's grab what you need and get out of here."

Chapter 4

The move to Zoey's place had gone smoother than Rebecca had expected. Zoey had taken charge in a way that was both supportive and effortless—setting up an appointment with Rebecca's psychiatrist, attending the session with her, and finally understanding what she had been too exhausted to explain.

It wasn't just about the job, though that had drained her in ways she hadn't anticipated. It was about the expectations. The weight of her last name, the loneliness and the crushing in-between where she had gotten lost. And when she couldn't cope, when the pressure built past what she could carry, her well-being had spiraled.

But now, at least, she wasn't alone.

The session had left Rebecca feeling lighter. And Zoey? It had given her clarity. She knew her role now, knew what Rebecca needed from her: love, support and stability. And those Zoey could do. She had started small. One of the biggest things? Routine.

The morning walk had become non-negotiable, something Zoey had insisted on. And, for the most part, Rebecca had gone along with it. But some days were harder than others. Some days, she didn't have it in her.

And today? Today was one of those days.

Zoey stood outside the spare bedroom—now Rebecca's bedroom—rolling her shoulders. She knew Rebecca well. Intimately, instinctively well.

Where Zoey was headstrong, Rebecca was careful.

Where Zoey pushed, Rebecca withdrew.

Where Zoey could be bullied into action, Rebecca would retreat further into herself.

Zoey had learned all of this the hard way, so today, she'd take a page from Rebecca's own playbook.

"Bait the hook well, and the fish will bite." Alright, Shakespeare. Let's see how true that is.

She knocked softly. "Hey, superstar."

The door creaked open, and Zoey stepped inside. Rebecca was still in bed, curled up on her side, half-buried under the covers.

"Wanna take a walk with me?" Zoey asked, keeping her voice light.

Rebecca didn't answer. Zoey sat down beside her, resting a hand on her hip, fingers idly tracing soothing circles.

"I wouldn't want to go alone," she tried. "And you've been doing really well with this."

Rebecca had been. They had gone out every day—just a simple walk, fresh air, movement.

"I'm not really feeling it," Rebecca mumbled, voice muffled by the pillow.

Zoey hummed, considering. "Mhm, I understand." She let her hand stroke gently over Rebecca's side. A long pause made its way between them. "Do you want me to leave?"

Rebecca shook her head, then, "Why am I like this?" she asked softly.

"Hard to say. Maybe it's the medication? We lowered your dose. The psychiatrist did say things might feel a bit off while your body adjusts."

She laid down next to Rebecca, curling around her back, her fingers moving gently along Rebecca's arm—a quiet reassurance. Rebecca as the little spoon was tried and true.

"Tell me what's on your mind."

Rebecca was quiet for a long moment.

"Right now? I feel bad for you."

Zoey frowned. "For me?"

Rebecca inhaled deeply. "You took me in, and even then I'm... struggling. You must think I'm pathetic."

Zoey's hold on her tightened.

"I think you're absolutely amazing," she murmured. "I think you've been carrying far too much on your own for too long. And I think that just because you've taken a few steps forward doesn't mean the journey is over." She burrowed her face against the back of Rebecca's head, inhaling the soft scent of her shampoo. "It takes time. But we'll do it together." She paused, then added with a smirk, "I'll be, like, your luggage."

Rebecca raised her head. "Like a suitcase? I'm going to drag you around?" Zoey could hear half a chuckle slip out.

"You're right," Zoey corrected herself. "I'll be your backpack."

Rebecca turned fully now, an eyebrow arched. "Excuse me, but since when do you qualify as a backpack?"

"Uh... I mean—"

"Who packed your backpack when you went off to play?"

"... You did."

"Who made sure you had a snack? Or a banana?"

"You did."

"And a towel?"

Zoey swallowed. "... You did."

Rebecca leaned in, narrowing her eyes. "That one time, that one time I wasn't there and you had to pack your own bag, what did you forget?"

Zoey groaned, flopping back dramatically. Rebecca just stared at her, unrelenting and smug.

Zoey muttered under her breath. "My shoes."

Rebecca smirked. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you."

Zoey covered her face with a pillow. "I forgot my damn shoes, okay?! It only happened once!"

Rebecca laughed, shaking her head. "Once was enough, tiger." She laid down again, looking at Zoey. "You're always so sure of yourself. How do you do it?"

Zoey hesitated. "Honestly? My ego's pretty big," she admitted, a hint of teasing in her tone. "But it's not like I'm untouchable, you know? I break, too. Sometimes."

Then she grew quiet. Uncharacteristically quiet.

"Zoey?"

Zoey sat up, rubbing the back of her head as if shaking something off. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. From when things were... simpler."

Rebecca pushed herself upright next to her, curiosity flickering in her gaze.

"I was with you a long time ago, when things were simpler."

"I know."

"What was it?"

Zoey hesitated. "It's something I'd have to show you, rather than tell."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Zoey glanced out the window. "And it's raining. I don't know, Becca..."

Rebecca met her with a smirk of her own. "We have umbrellas."

Zoey clicked her tongue. "Mhm, I guess..."

Rebecca nudged her. "Please?"

Zoey eyed her. "What's got you so curious?"

Rebecca's fingers brushed absently over the blanket. "I can't imagine there's anything I wouldn't know about you." She glanced up, and there was something honest in her gaze.

Zoey studied her for the longest of seconds. Then, suddenly, something shifted in her.

Her smirk softened and the emerald eyes darkened just slightly. She stood, stretching lazily, and grabbed a hoodie from the chair.

"Nothing like the rain to bring out your flaws, mhm?" she murmured. "Come on. Let's go."

~~~

Rebecca let her gaze sweep across the old soccer field. The scent of damp grass and the gentle hum of leaves rustling in the wind, it was all achingly familiar.

"This brings back memories." She murmured the words as if they had been resting on her tongue for years, waiting for the right moment to be spoken.

"Yeah, it sure does," Zoey replied, her voice tinged with nostalgia too.

Rebecca used to lie in the grass, stretched out with a book in her hands while Zoey was off at practice. The summer air would be thick with the scent of earth, and the distant sound of soccer drills—coaches yelling, cleats thudding against the turf—became the backdrop to her afternoons.

Some days, she barely read at all. She would watch Zoey instead, tracking the way she moved across the field, always so alive, so utterly in tune with the game. Even then, Rebecca had known there was something different about the way she admired her.

Other days, she would let the sun lull her into an easy, dreamless sleep, the soft rhythm of Zoey's footwork in the background like a lullaby.

The heat would rise in waves, making the sky seem hazier, more golden. Sometimes, after practice, Zoey would drop down beside her, sweaty and breathless, gulping down water before nudging Rebecca's arm, asking "what are you reading now?"

Rebecca would roll her eyes, pretend to be annoyed at the interruption, but she would always let Zoey read over her shoulder. It was how things had always been, with Zoey running headfirst into things while Rebecca observed, calculated, waited.

It had been simple. It had been easy.

And yet, even now, standing here years later, Rebecca wondered how much she had really known back then. Zoey led her down the field, weaving through the memories of their past, before finally stepping into the forest clearing beyond.

The silence stretched between them. Zoey didn't say much, but she moved like she knew where she was going, like she had walked this path a hundred times before.

Rebecca caught up, watching as Zoey dragged a hand through her damp hair, something hesitant in her posture.

"I never intended to show you this," Zoey admitted, voice quieter than before. "Like, ever." She let out a short, self-conscious chuckle. "But what do they say? Statute of limitation is ten years?"

Rebecca frowned slightly. "Zoey, you're making me a little nervous."

"No, I'm the dingus here. Don't worry."

She took a step forward, pressing her fingertips against the rough bark of an old oak tree. Her hand traced along the surface as if reacquainting herself with something long forgotten.

"Can't believe it's still here," she murmured, taking a small step back.

Rebecca's gaze followed Zoey's, landing on the tree. And then she saw it—a carved heart, etched into the bark with care.

In the left corner of the heart was a Z. A dividing line ran down the middle, and on the right side, where an R should have been, there was only the beginning of one.

Rebecca inhaled sharply.

"You'd be surprised how long it takes to do this when you don't have a proper knife," Zoey chuckled, the sound light, but with something vulnerable beneath it.

Rebecca stepped closer, her fingers trailing over the rough carving, following the outline as if tracing the remnants of a past she had never known existed.

"When?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. Seventeen, eighteen?" Zoey swallowed, then sighed. "I guess, I dunno, I thought there was something between us. Something more. But then one day, you started dating that guy named Jim, and I realized... maybe I was wrong."

Her lips turned into something resembling a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I thought I'd read you wrong," Zoey admitted. "I figured that, yeah, maybe it was just me. You were my first love, you know. No one has ever really... Ever really compared to you."

Rebecca stood almost motionless, her fingertips still resting against the carving.

The rain began to fall a little harder, a rhythmic patter against the canopy of leaves above them. Zoey shifted, adjusting the umbrella, making sure Rebecca stayed dry beneath it.

Rebecca exhaled slowly, her mind racing, reconstructing. She thought of all those summers, all those moments that had seemed so simple, so easy.

Zoey smiled faintly, stepping back. "I'm showing you this to, I don't know, just to say that you've got a friend in me. You always will. And that I understand that sometimes, you really don't want to get out of bed. Sometimes we know why, other times we don't."

Rebecca's chest ached. She turned to face Zoey, her fingers leaving the empty space where an R should have been—a space that had always been meant for her.

Zoey hummed softly, her gaze drifting toward the open field beyond the clearing. The rain had softened to a mist, a quiet veil over the world around them. The memories of summers past felt closer here, almost like they were woven into the earth, the trees and the very air they breathed.

"It was a long time ago," she murmured, almost to herself. "Life moves on."

"Hey." Rebecca's voice was soft, but firm.

Zoey turned, eyebrows raised slightly in question. "Mhm?"

And then Rebecca's hand found her cheek. Her touch was warm despite the cool air.

"Let life move on together with me," Rebecca whispered. Zoey barely had a second to process before Rebecca leaned in, her lips brushing against hers—gentle, hesitant and careful.

Zoey froze as Rebecca's fingers cupped her cheek, anchoring her in place, a silent plea not to pull away.

"You were not wrong. I just didn't dare take the first step," Rebecca murmured against her lips. "I was too shy back then. And you slipped through my fingers. It has been my biggest regret."

Zoey inhaled shakily as Rebecca pulled back just slightly, enough for their eyes to meet. Rebecca smiled softly, wistfully.

"If I had known you felt the same there'd have been no other. There'd have been only you. There was only you back then."

Zoey's heart pounded, her mind spinning, not with doubt but with realization.

Rebecca exhaled, her forehead resting lightly against Zoey's. "I know I'm not at my best," she admitted, voice breaking just slightly. "But I can be better. With you."

Her fingers traced along Zoey's jaw, a touch that felt both fragile and reverent.

"Please," she whispered, her breath warm against Zoey's lips. "Give me a chance."

Zoey rubbed her nose softly against Rebecca's, her lips barely brushing hers.

"Give you a chance, you say."

Rebecca's breath hitched. "Mhm."

Zoey hummed, pulling Rebecca tighter into her embrace. "Are you ready to be seen with me when I embarrass myself again?"

Rebecca gave a half-smile, her voice low. "I'll survive. Probably."

Zoey chuckled, the sound warm and deep, as she let her fingers skim down Rebecca's back.

"Will there be coffee cups all over my place?"

"Uh-huh."

"Post-it notes?"

"Everywhere."

"And your clothes?"

"I actually figured out how closets work. Mostly."

"Good, that makes one of us." She sighed dramatically. "How could I possibly say no?"

Rebecca chuckled, but the laughter faded as something real settled between them.

"I'm serious though," Rebecca murmured.

"About the coffee cups? Yeah, I know. I'm willing to accept them."

Rebecca shook her head, her fingers curling into Zoey's jacket. "No. About... us."

Zoey pulled back just enough to see Rebecca's face, her expression open and unguarded.

"I'm a simple woman, Rebecca Sanders," Zoey said softly. "I think I was made for loving you. I—I feel complete with you by my side. I have wanted to see how far we can go, for so long now."

She reached up, tucking a few damp strands of blonde hair behind Rebecca's ear, her fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary.

"Don't worry," Zoey continued, voice steady. "When you fall, I'll be there to pick you up. When you're sad, I'll share your pain, and when you're happy, we'll be happy together."

She stood there, unwavering, tall, like she could hold up the sky if Rebecca asked her to. And then, just as effortlessly, she grinned.

"... And when I blow out my knees or tear a hamstring, I know you'll be there."

Rebecca let out a quiet laugh, but her fingers trembled slightly against Zoey's chest.

"Now," Zoey murmured, leaning in again, her lips a breath away, "can I kiss you?"

Rebecca didn't answer but she purred—a sound so soft, so content, it was almost feline. She melted into Zoey's embrace, their lips meeting in a kiss that felt long overdue.

Zoey held her close, her arms steady, her body warm against Rebecca's own. The rain fell steadily around them, but the umbrella shielded them, creating a world where only they existed.

Then, suddenly, Zoey pulled back just slightly, her brow furrowing.

"... Becca?"

"Mhm?" Rebecca barely opened her eyes, still dazed from the kiss.

"You will be there, right? Tearing an ACL's no joke, you know."

Rebecca blinked, and then laughed, the sound breaking through the quiet tension like sunlight through clouds.

"Maybe," she teased.

"Mhm, good enough."

Her hands instinctively tightened around Rebecca's waist, steadying her. But it was Rebecca who deepened it first—pressing in, lips parting just enough for Zoey to feel the heat of her breath, the quiet sigh she released against her mouth.

Zoey answered by pulling Rebecca even closer, her fingers sliding up, threading into Rebecca's damp hair, tilting her head just so. The rain drummed softly against the umbrella above them, muffling the world outside their little cocoon of warmth.

Rebecca's fingers curled into the fabric of Zoey's jacket, holding her as if she was afraid to let go. Zoey kissed her deeper, tasting the lingering hint of coffee on Rebecca's lips, with the years of unspoken words dissolving between them.

She kissed her like she had been waiting for this her entire life.

Rebecca whimpered softly into Zoey's mouth, her hands sliding up to cup Zoey's jaw, thumbs stroking over her cheekbones as if memorizing the shape of her.

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads remained pressed together, breaths mingling, fingers still tangled in hair and fabric.

Zoey let out a breathless chuckle, her lips brushing against Rebecca's once more.

"So," she murmured, voice low, teasing, warm. "Was that enough of a yes for you?"

Rebecca let out a shaky laugh, her nose nudging against Zoey's.

"Yeah," she whispered.

Zoey smirked, brushing her thumb across Rebecca's bottom lip.

"Good. You ready to head home?"

~~~

The speed at which they undressed was impressive, to say the least.

Rebecca barely had a second to process before she found herself tangled in Zoey's arms, her body pressed against warm, bare skin. Their kisses were hungry, filled with years of longing. Time lost, love paused, and a decade's worth of bottled-up need catching up all at once.

Zoey's hands roamed Rebecca's sides, her fingertips grazing her ribs, mapping out every inch of bare skin like she had always meant to claim it.

"You alright?" Zoey murmured between kisses, her lips barely parting from Rebecca's.

Rebecca gasped softly as she fell back onto the bed, still tugging one stubborn sock off her foot. "Never better," she breathed.

Zoey laughed. It was a low, sultry sound that sent a shiver down Rebecca's spine. And then she pounced. Rebecca yelped, laughing, as Zoey practically devoured her, trailing heated kisses down her neck, across her collarbone.

"Baby, wait—" Rebecca panted, her fingers digging into Zoey's shoulders.

"Wait?" Zoey groaned against her skin. "That's what we did the entire car ride home, and now you want me to wait more?" Her voice dipped into something dark, needy, her hips pressing into Rebecca's in emphasis.

Rebecca bit her lip, still breathless with laughter. "Wait, baby."

Zoey exhaled sharply, straddling Rebecca so she could finally see her, see all of her. The sight alone made something tighten in Zoey's chest. Her eyes softened immediately. "What's wrong, love?"

Rebecca swallowed, her hands trailing absentmindedly up Zoey's thighs. "I'm nervous," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zoey tilted her head, brushing a damp strand of blonde hair from Rebecca's face. "It's only me, Becca. You've seen me before."

Rebecca exhaled, her fingers starting at Zoey's sternum, tracing down the curve of her breasts, over the defined ridges of her abdomen—a slow, reverent path until they brushed over the faintest strip of hair leading lower.

She glanced up, ocean blue meeting forest green, searching for something like permission or reassurance. Zoey just smiled.

"Nothing fazes you," Rebecca whispered, her fingers lingering over the curve of Zoey's hip.

Zoey let out a low, sensual laugh, one that vibrated through both of them. It was genuine but knowing, like she had expected that response.

"I hear you," Zoey mused, "but there's no one on this earth I've shared a bed with as many times as I have with you. The only difference is that you're naked now."

Rebecca arched an eyebrow. "The only difference?"

"And that I can do this."

Before Rebecca could react, Zoey lowered herself, pinning Rebecca's hands gently above her head. She leaned in, slowly, letting the moment stretch, her breath warm against Rebecca's lips before she finally kissed her.

Rebecca moaned softly, her hips tilting in silent request, pressing against Zoey's, seeking friction, needing it. Zoey answered in kind, grinding down, her movements slow, teasing, controlled.

"Better?" Zoey murmured against her lips.

Rebecca let out a breathless sigh, her body arching into Zoey's.

"I can work with this."

Zoey's mouth was everywhere—trailing fire down Rebecca's neck, her teeth grazing She sucked at the delicate skin of her collarbone, pulling breathless, shuddering whimpers from Rebecca.

Rebecca's fingernails dragged down Zoey's back, sharp enough to sting, desperate to hold on, to ground herself in the pleasure building inside her.

"You have no idea what you do to me," Zoey groaned, her breath hot against Rebecca's ear, her voice low, dangerous.

Rebecca's body trembled beneath her, her thighs parting, her breath coming in short, needy gasps as Zoey's hands slid down, fingertips teasing over the curve of her hip, the dip of her stomach. She created a slow, torturous path that left Rebecca squirming beneath her.

Zoey's fingers dipped lower, but not touching, just barely brushing over her slick, aching heat. Rebecca mewled, her body arching, searching for relief.

Zoey smirked against her skin, teasing. It was absolutely infuriating.

"Look at you," she murmured, watching Rebecca fall apart beneath her, the way her thighs quivered in anticipation.

"Zoey," Rebecca pleaded, her nails digging in as she tried to pull Zoey closer.

That was all Zoey needed.

She pushed inside her, slow and deep, curling her fingers in just the way she knew would make Rebecca gasp, shake and beg.

Rebecca's head fell back as her back arched. Her body tightened around Zoey's fingers, her pleasure building fast. It was too much and it felt too good, and all too soon.

But Zoey didn't stop, didn't slow down. Her mouth found Rebecca's breast which was plush and sensitive, her skin shivering under the first wet stroke of Zoey's tongue.

Zoey's lips closed around her, sucking deep and possessive, until Rebecca cried out, her hips grinding desperately against her touch.

"Fuck!" Rebecca's breath hitched, her thighs trembled as pleasure swirled inside her.

Zoey felt it—felt the way Rebecca clenched around her, felt the tension in her body, heard the broken sounds spilling from her lips—and pushed her over the edge.

Rebecca's face tensed, brows pulling together before her expression softened, mouth falling open in a silent cry as pleasure overtook her. Her body convulsed beneath Zoey's, back arching as waves of ecstasy coursed through her. Zoey hovered above, eyes dark with hunger, watching every tremor, every shuddering breath. She exhaled softly, her own breath shaky, drinking in the sight of Rebecca reaching climax.

Zoey didn't need more. She just wanted to see her, to watch as the aftershocks rolled through Rebecca.

Zoey shifted, settling beside Rebecca, her head propped on one arm as she let her fingertips trace slow, absentminded circles over Rebecca's stomach.

Rebecca's thigh still twitched, small tremors running through her body, and she let out a breathless, slightly dazed laugh, covering her face with her hands.

"God." She exhaled shakily, peeking at Zoey through her fingers, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, a mix of bliss and embarrassment in her expression.

"What?" she murmured, voice warm, teasing.

Rebecca groaned, still catching her breath. "My legs won't stop shaking."

Zoey chuckled, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder, letting her lips linger for a moment. Rebecca let out a slow sigh, sinking deeper into the mattress, relaxed, spent, completely at peace. And Zoey just watched, her emerald eyes soft, adoring every inch of the love of her life lying next to her.

Rebecca turned to face Zoey, shifting onto her side, her body still thrumming with aftershocks.

Zoey was beautiful like this, lying bare beneath her, chest rising and falling, flushed from pleasure, her dark hair tousled against the pillow. She looked soft, almost vulnerable, but the way her green eyes watched Rebecca—half-lidded, dazed, and full of need—made something deep inside her tighten.

Her thumb brushed over Zoey's bottom lip, and Zoey, without hesitation, kissed it, her lips warm, wet, slightly parted. Rebecca let her fingers trace Zoey's jaw, fingertips featherlight, mapping her skin like she was learning her for the first time. She traced along Zoey's sharp cheekbones, over her ear, then down the delicate slope of her throat, pausing briefly at the soft dip where her pulse thrummed steadily beneath warm skin.

Zoey swallowed, her breath hitching slightly.

Rebecca kept going, down the ridge of her collarbone, the faint lines of muscle across her chest, until she reached Zoey's breasts.

Zoey was small here, but wonderfully delicate and sensitive, which Rebecca quickly discovered when she brushed her thumb over a nipple, feeling it harden beneath her touch.

Zoey inhaled sharply, her stomach tensing, her thighs shifting restlessly. Rebecca squeezed her breast gently, rolling the peak between her fingers, watching as Zoey bit her lip, her eyes darkening.

She let her hand travel lower, fingers skimming the tautness of Zoey's stomach, tracing the lines of toned muscle, before she gently pushed Zoey onto her back and straddled her.

Zoey exhaled shakily, her hands already reaching up, palming Rebecca's breasts, kneading them just enough to make Rebecca shiver as they swayed with the motion.

Her mouth found Zoey's, and she kissed her deeply, messy, a wet glide of tongues until Rebecca pulled back just slightly, her breath warm against Zoey's swollen lips.

Zoey's eyes were hazy, her pupils blown wide with want. Rebecca sat up, her legs framing Zoey's hips. Then, keeping her gaze locked onto Zoey, she slid a finger past her lips, sucking on it slowly before moving her hand down, behind her. Her fingers made a path between Zoey's legs, and the moment she touched her, she let out a quiet hum.

"You're wet."

There were no quips from Zoey this time. No teasing remark, no cocky grin.

Just silence, with her lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly, utterly spellbound by the way Rebecca moved, the way she touched her.

Rebecca slid one finger inside, slow, teasing. Zoey's eyes fluttered closed, her back arching slightly, a sharp inhale breaking the quiet. Then another finger joined, and Zoey let out a breathy, shuddering moan, her legs tensing beneath Rebecca.

Rebecca leaned down, lips brushing Zoey's ear, her voice a warm whisper of command.

"Spread your legs for me."

Zoey obeyed, thighs falling open without hesitation, her breathing shaky. Rebecca withdrew her fingers, then, keeping her eyes locked onto Zoey's, she brought them to her lips, licking them clean.

Zoey whined softly, her fingers gripping the sheets.

Rebecca smirked, then began a slow descent down Zoey's body—kissing, licking, nipping her way over her ribs, her stomach, her hips, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling the way Zoey twitched, trembled, reacted beneath her touch.

When she finally settled between Zoey's thighs, she let her lips linger there, kissing the soft inner skin, feeling the way Zoey's legs trembled involuntarily against her shoulders.

She wasn't going to rush this, not when someone like Zoey deserved to be worshipped.

She kissed slowly, deliberately, her lips lingering against the soft skin of Zoey's inner thigh, savoring the way her muscles twitched beneath her mouth.

Zoey was a masterpiece beneath her, a blend of strength and softness, of raw power and complete surrender. Rebecca flicked her tongue out, tasting skin, dragging wet, open-mouthed kisses up the sensitive inside of Zoey's thigh. She felt the small, involuntary tremors in Zoey's legs, the way her breathing turned into short, uneven gasps.

And then she moved higher.

Zoey gasped as Rebecca's tongue found her, hot and soft, teasing at first, a slow, controlled drag that had Zoey's hips twitching upward. Rebecca exhaled against her, felt the heat, the wetness, the way Zoey reacted to her touch instantly.

"Fuck," Zoey whispered, her thighs quivering, her fingers curling into the sheets as Rebecca's tongue worked long, lazy strokes against her. Zoey's hips lifted instinctively, chasing the feeling, searching for more friction.

Rebecca hummed against her, slipping her hands beneath Zoey's hips, palms pressing into the toned muscle there, holding her steady as she continued.

"Becca," Zoey groaned, the sound half-plea, half-dazed praise.

Her fingers twitched, then finally moved, sliding down her own stomach, not to push Rebecca away, but to join her.

Rebecca moaned softly when she felt Zoey's hand in her hair, her fingers brushing over her scalp, not controlling, but anchoring. And then Zoey moved, her other hand spreading herself open, guiding Rebecca's tongue exactly where she needed it.

Rebecca followed her lead, lapping and sucking just right, flicking and teasing in time with the slow rock of Zoey's hips.

"God," Zoey panted, her voice breathy, wrecked, her hips rolling into Rebecca's mouth, searching for more pressure, more friction.

Rebecca's hands traced the curve of her waist, gripping gently, feeling the power in Zoey's thighs as they tensed and flexed beneath her.

And then Zoey lost herself completely. Her movements grew more urgent, her hips pressing down, grinding slowly against Rebecca's mouth, chasing every ounce of pleasure she could pull from the moment.

Rebecca felt the way her muscles began to tighten, the quivering tension building inside, the small, breathy gasps that turned into ragged moans.

Zoey's thighs trembled around Rebecca's head, her fingers gripping tighter, not pushing her away but holding her there, keeping her close, as if she needed Rebecca to be there with her when she came.

"Rebecca—"

The sound of her name, dragged from Zoey's lips in a desperate moan, was all it took.

Zoey's entire body clenched, her muscles contracting, forcing her to sit up, her fingers tangling in Rebecca's hair, her legs shaking violently as pleasure ripped through her.

Rebecca stayed with her, held her through it, lapping her through the aftershocks, feeling every pulse, every tremor of Zoey coming against her mouth.

Zoey let out a breathless laugh, her chest still heaving, her fingers loosening in Rebecca's hair as she collapsed back against the sheets.

Rebecca kissed her inner thigh softly, slowly, savoring the moment, pressing one last lingering kiss to the inside of Zoey's knee. She crawled back up, tangling herself into Zoey's warmth, pressing their bodies together, breath warm against her collarbone.

Zoey let out a contented sigh, pulling Rebecca closer, her lips brushing her temple.

"I didn't hurt you, right?"

Rebecca gently shook her head, and for the first time in forever, she felt whole.

Chapter 5

It was as if the universe had course-corrected itself, as if some unseen force had been waiting to pull them back together, to make up for the time lost between them.

Rebecca and Zoey fell into a rhythm, a new normal—one where their lives slowly wove together, not in a way that felt sudden or forced, but like something inevitable.

Rebecca found herself spending more time at Highpoint Stadium, her work shifting to accommodate the moments she could watch Zoey train and play. The VIP booths overlooking the field became her battleground, her phone buzzing with business calls while her eyes remained locked onto the field, following Zoey's every move. It grounded her, watching Zoey in her element, moving with the kind of confidence and control Rebecca had always admired.

And for Zoey life was no longer a lonely affair.

Her apartment had changed. Not just because Rebecca had claimed one of the rooms as her home office, but because Rebecca was there. Sometimes cooking, sometimes working, sometimes doing both at once, a pen in one hand, a spatula in the other, muttering something under her breath as she juggled two entirely different worlds.

They found harmony in each other, in the simple act of just being close.

But Rebecca's depression wasn't something that disappeared overnight. It was a journey with its ups and down. The insomnia, however, had become less frequent. It no longer held her in its grip every so often, no longer kept her staring at the ceiling, hollow-eyed, waiting for sleep to take mercy on her.

But tonight, it had returned.

Rebecca tossed and turned, frustration creeping into her tensed muscles, her mind racing when it should have been resting. She could hear the soft rhythm of Zoey's breathing, the rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her body beside her.

And yet, sleep refused to come. She sighed, rolling onto her side, fingers curling into the sheets, only for Zoey to stir moments later.

Still half-asleep, Zoey's arm found Rebecca's waist, pulling her close, instinctively.

"Mm," she murmured against Rebecca's shoulder, her voice thick with sleep, still laced with that easy, warm affection that had become second nature between them. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Rebecca hesitated.

"... Can't sleep."

Zoey hummed, her grip tightening slightly, as if she could physically hold Rebecca together, keep her from unraveling.

"Been a while since you had one of these nights."

Rebecca exhaled softly. "Yeah."

Zoey didn't push for why. She never did. Instead, she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of Rebecca's neck, her lips barely brushing the sensitive skin there, warm and soothing.

Rebecca sighed. "Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to wake you."

Zoey hummed, shifting closer, pressing a soft, sleepy kiss to Rebecca's cheek as her hand found the warmth of Rebecca's stomach, rubbing slow, absentminded circles.

"I may be drunk on sleep," Zoey mumbled, her lips grazing Rebecca's temple, "but I have an idea."

Rebecca tilted her head slightly, curious. "Mhm?"

"Let's go for a ride."

Rebecca blinked, turning onto her side to look at her properly. "Now?!"

"Why not?" Zoey replied matter-of-factly, already sitting up, stretching with a lazy grin before pulling a t-shirt over her head, then leggings on. "It's warm outside. C'mon."

Rebecca huffed a quiet laugh, watching her. "Yeah, okay."

"Oh, and grab a blanket."

Rebecca frowned, confused, but did as she was told, shaking her head with amusement.

The drive was quiet, different, softer, but Rebecca didn't mind. The hum of the engine, the occasional glance Zoey stole in her direction, the way the world felt so still this late at night—it was... nice.

Zoey had a destination in mind, and soon, they found themselves at Highpoint View, a scenic overlook on the outskirts of town.

During the day, it was packed with tourists, but at this hour? Not a single soul.

And the sky. God, the sky.

Rebecca went still, stepping out of the car, her breath catching slightly as her eyes lifted toward the endless sprawl of stars, the way they painted the night sky like something unreal.

"How have I never been here?" she whispered.

Zoey just smiled, leading her toward a nearby bench.

She sat down first, then gently tugged Rebecca down to lie in her lap, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her as the night air wrapped around them.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the kind that needed no words.

Zoey's fingers moved lazily through Rebecca's soft hair, dragging through the strands in slow, absentminded strokes. Rebecca lay peacefully across her lap, the blanket draped loosely over her, the night air cool but not cold.

Zoey looked down at her, at the soft glow of the moonlight catching the delicate slope of her cheek, the way the stars above seemed to paint her in silver light.

"Can I ask you something?" Zoey murmured.

Rebecca tilted her head slightly, looking up, her blue eyes reflecting the endless night sky above them.

"Paul said you used to watch soccer," her voice casual but curious.

Rebecca blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, I did. I watched your games when you were over in Europe."

Zoey shifted slightly, adjusting her position on the bench. "Paul said you stopped watching one day. Why?"

Rebecca hesitated, her fingers tensing slightly against Zoey's thigh.

"You were playing in the German league," she started. "You had an accident. The accident. You hit your head, and you were out cold. Remember?"

Zoey exhaled softly. "Ah."

She ran a hand through her own hair, shaking her head slightly. "I don't remember much," she admitted, chuckling softly. "I've seen the replays. They apparently flew in a specialist from Spain."

Rebecca's gaze flickered, looking past Zoey, out into the darkness. "Yeah, I know. You were unresponsive to the original treatment."

Zoey raised an eyebrow. "You knew? Becca, nobody knew."

Rebecca froze.

"... Uh, right, I didn't know. Sorry, got it wrong."

Zoey's lips twitched, her green eyes gleaming.

"How did you know, baby?"

Rebecca panicked slightly. "Timeout."

Zoey gave a mischievous grin. Timeouts had become a thing between them—a sacred pause, an unspoken rule where neither could be mad, neither could argue. It was as holy as anything could be.

"I need to know my options here," Rebecca muttered, still stalling.

Zoey hummed, pretending to consider. "Option one, I leave you here unless you tell me the truth."

Rebecca gasped dramatically, clutching her chest.

Zoey continued, grinning. "Option two, I stop loving you—"

"—but you were made for loving me," Rebecca interjected quickly, giving her the puppy-eyed look she knew always worked.

"—things change, babe," Zoey quipped, her grin widening.

Rebecca groaned, covering her face.

"Option three," Zoey went on, "you don't have to tell me at all, knowing full well it'll drive me insane, and that—"

Rebecca sighed, her voice defeated. "—isn't good for anyone..."

Zoey nodded sagely. "Correct."

"Option four?"

Zoey tilted her head, her voice softening.

"Option four... you tell me, and I promise I won't get mad."

Rebecca let out a quiet mumble, her voice barely audible.

Zoey grinned, looking back up at the stars.

"Good girl."

Rebecca sighed again. "I knew because I was the one who spoke to your club in Germany. I flew the doctor from Spain to Germany."

Zoey's breath caught, her head snapping down to look at Rebecca.

"... But... how?"

Rebecca let out a soft, nervous laugh, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket.

"I called your agent. Germany has excellent healthcare, but something was wrong with your insurance. You didn't get to see the specialist your team thought you needed. While they got tangled in red tape, I went around them. Your agent was very helpful."

Zoey stared at her, utterly speechless.

"... You did that for me?" Zoey finally replied, finding her words.

"I had to call in a few favors for that one but it was worth every cent."

"Why didn't I know this?"

"Your agent wanted to tell you but I said no. He insisted, and I asked him if it was worth getting fired over." Rebecca went quiet for a spell. "I guess he never told you then."

Zoey shook her head slowly.

"True to his word, huh. Keep him."

"But, but why? Why wouldn't you say something?"

Rebecca inhaled sharply, her fingers gently squeezing Zoey's thigh.

"When you fell, there was a German player who was by your side in an instant. The way she moved, the panic in her eyes. You were more than friends, I was sure."

Zoey looked away, embarrassed. "I dated someone, yeah. It didn't last long. She wanted more than what I was willing to, you know, give."

"I figured. It didn't feel right to butt in." Rebecca paused, gathering her thoughts. "I had nightmares for days after. All I could see was your limp body on the field."

Zoey felt her heart twist at the quiet sob that slipped from Rebecca's lips.

"I stopped watching your games after that."

Zoey didn't hesitate. She gently lifted Rebecca up, pulling her into her arms, holding her close, cradling her in the quiet of the night.

"I love you," Rebecca whispered against her shoulder, voice shaky but certain.

Zoey closed her eyes, her chin resting on top of Rebecca's head, her fingers stroking her back in slow, reassuring patterns.

"I love you too," she murmured.

She pressed a soft kiss to Rebecca's hair and began humming quietly, a melody she wasn't even sure where she had picked up—maybe from childhood, maybe from some forgotten song—but it filled the silence, wrapped around them like a lullaby.

Rebecca's breathing slowed, her fingers gripping Zoey's shirt loosening, her body finally relaxing. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Just as Zoey settled in, she noticed a few soft flickers in the air. They were tiny lights, drifting lazily. Fireflies. More appeared, blinking on and off in the quiet, scattered across the overlook like the night was gently coming alive. One floated past Rebecca's cheek but she didn't stir.

Zoey brushed a hand through her hair, letting out a quiet breath. The stars were above them, the fireflies around them, and Rebecca was asleep in her arms.

The world felt still.

Zoey adjusted herself slightly with a small, contented smile tugging at her lips. She gazed up at the stars, holding Rebecca close.

Chapter 6

It was one of those days.

The kind where the world felt distant, muted, like it had been placed just out of reach. Where the weight of everything felt too much, pressing down too hard, making every movement feel like it required twice the effort, twice the energy.

Rebecca didn't want to get up. Didn't want to exist outside of the warmth of the blankets, outside the quiet solitude of her own mind.

Even Zoey, the bright, loud, all-encompassing Zoey, felt like too much. And she had noticed. She had come home from a morning run, still sweaty, still catching her breath, and the first thing she had seen was that Rebecca's door was closed.

So, she didn't knock right away, but stood there for a moment, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, knowing that sometimes... it was okay to just not be okay. And that meant Rebecca didn't have to do anything right now. She knocked lightly, didn't wait for an answer, and then stepped inside.

Rebecca was lying half under the covers, only her hips and legs hidden beneath the sheets, her bare back exposed to the dim light filtering through the curtains.

Zoey didn't say anything.

She just crawled onto the bed, laying on top of the covers, draping an arm around Rebecca's waist, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the back of her head.

"It's okay," she murmured.

She didn't expect a response, didn't expect anything, really. So when Rebecca turned, shifting under the sheets, curling into Zoey's embrace, her face pressing into Zoey's neck, Zoey let out the smallest breath of relief.

Rebecca's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

"You always smell nice."

Zoey chuckled, her hand running in gentle circles over Rebecca's back. "I haven't even showered yet."

Rebecca flushed, tucking her face deeper into Zoey's skin. "You smell nice when you're sweaty too."

Zoey let out a genuine laugh, tilting her head to press a kiss to the crown of Rebecca's head.

"Is this a new kink?"

Rebecca purred, her fingers tugging lazily at the hem of Zoey's shirt, her touch featherlight, teasing.

"Take a shower with me?" she asked suddenly.

Zoey blinked, pulling back slightly to look at her properly.

"Sounds like an awful lot of work," she teased, though there was a hint of something else in her voice now—something softer, warmer.

Rebecca leaned in, her lips brushing Zoey's collarbone, kissing, dragging, nipping.

"Please? I may even let you win at Jeopardy! later."

"Well, that is a noble cause," she replied, her face suddenly stoic and serious.

Rebecca grinned against her skin. Zoey sat up, reached for Rebecca's hand, their fingers tangling easily, naturally, like they were meant to be woven together as they headed for the showers.

The bathroom was warm, the steam curling around them as they stepped under the spray together. Water ran in rivulets down their bare skin, catching on curves, sliding over the soft slopes of their hips, the dips of their backs, the stretch of toned legs.

Rebecca sighed, melting into the warmth, her body pressing naturally into Zoey's. Skin against skin, the quiet hum of heat and water wrapping around them.

Zoey's arms slid around her waist, pulling her in. "You fit here too well," she murmured, her breath warm against Rebecca's damp hair.

Rebecca hummed, her head resting against Zoey's collarbone. Her back pressed into Zoey's front, a perfect fit—the contrast of firm muscle and soft curves.

Zoey reached for the shampoo, flipping the cap open with one hand. "Tilt your head, baby."

Rebecca obeyed, letting Zoey's fingers glide through her hair, massaging her scalp, working the lather in slow, lazy circles.

A quiet sigh escaped Rebecca's lips. "If you keep this up, I might never leave."

Zoey chuckled, pressing a slow kiss to the nape of Rebecca's neck. "Good. I like you here."

The lather foamed between Zoey's fingers as she smoothed it through Rebecca's blonde strands, her touch gentle, savoring every moment. The scent of shampoo mixed with the steam, the heat sinking into their muscles, unraveling tension that had sat in them for too long.

Zoey rinsed Rebecca's hair carefully, letting the water carry away the suds before brushing damp strands over one of her shoulders. Rebecca turned in Zoey's arms, blinking up at her through damp lashes, her skin glistening from the heat and water. Zoey let her fingers trail over Rebecca's spine, following the path of a single droplet rolling down her back.

"There," Zoey murmured. "All clean."

Rebecca smiled lazily, her hands sliding down Zoey's sides, over the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips. She fit into Zoey's space so easily, like they were built for this. Finally Zoey patted Rebecca's hip lightly, nudging her toward the edge of the shower.

"Alright, you've had your fun. Out."

Rebecca blinked up at her. "Excuse me?"

"I still have to actually shower, and you are a known distraction."

Rebecca gasped, placing a hand over her chest. "I am wounded."

Zoey nudged her again, laughing. "Go, you menace. I'll be out in five."

Rebecca huffed but stepped out of the shower, a lopsided smile as she grabbed a towel.

"Fine," she said airily, wrapping it around herself. "But if you slip in here and die, I'm telling everyone it was your own fault."

Zoey grinned, reaching for the shampoo. "Noted. Now go be adorable somewhere else."

Rebecca shook her head, laughing softly as she walked out, leaving Zoey to finish her shower.

The afternoon blurred into hours spent lounging. At some point, Zoey had pulled out a book, and Rebecca had stolen half the couch, scrolling through emails, her body half-draped over Zoey's legs without a second thought. The TV played in the background, but neither of them was really paying attention.

As evening crept in, Zoey suggested they get ready for bed beforehand. When they curled up on the couch, it wasn't just comfort. It was familiarity, closeness and love.

Zoey lounged in just a fitted tank top and panties while Rebecca had changed into a different pair of cheeky-cut panties, but kept the same oversized shirt Zoey had lent her ages ago. The dim light softened the edges of the space around them, but not the tension. Not the way Zoey was all too aware of Rebecca beside her, the way their bare legs brushed under the shared blanket, the heat of Rebecca's body seeping into her own.

At one point, Rebecca got up to grab a glass of water, and Zoey hadn't meant to stare.

But she did.

Her green eyes followed Rebecca as she moved, her focus locked onto the sway of her hips, the way her curves shifted beneath the fabric of her oversized shirt. The hem lifted slightly with each step, exposing more of her toned thighs, the smoothness of her skin. And then, the way her ass bounced with every step, a slow, hypnotic movement, accentuated by the cut of her panties that hugged her in all the right ways.

Zoey's mouth went dry. She swallowed, forcing herself to look away, but it was already too late.

When Rebecca returned, she carried a glass of water, but there was something in her eyes. A mix of mischief, knowing, power.

"I think you looked," Rebecca teased as she settled back onto the couch, slipping under the blanket once more.

Zoey barely had time to react before Rebecca was right there again, her body pressing into Zoey's side, warm and soft, her scent enveloping her completely.

"Looked at what?" Zoey tried, playing innocent.

Rebecca smirked. "My butt."

"Why would I look? I didn't look!" Zoey blurted, too quickly, too unconvincing.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with the denial. "Uh-huh," she hummed, unconvinced. "I'm going to write in my diary that you looked," she teased.

Zoey snorted, shaking her head, but her heart was hammering.

Rebecca leaned in just a fraction closer, her voice lower, silkier. "Did you like what you saw?"

Zoey swallowed hard.

"When I write in my diary that you looked, I have to follow up with whether you liked it or not," Rebecca continued, her tone still low but there was something underneath it now, something charged. "Well?"

Zoey's cheeks burned. She was suddenly hyperaware of how close Rebecca was, of the way the blanket cocooned them, locking in warmth and the faintest hum of electricity.

"I..." Zoey's voice betrayed her, cracked just slightly. "Yeah, so maybe I liked what I saw."

Rebecca's smirk softened into something more dangerous, more intimate.

Slowly, deliberately, her hand slipped beneath Zoey's tank top, fingers splaying over the toned expanse of her stomach.

Zoey inhaled sharply.

Rebecca's palm was warm against her skin, the contact sending a slow, lingering shiver up Zoey's spine.

"Is this okay?" Rebecca asked, her voice different now. Softer but thick with something Zoey couldn't ignore.

"Yeah," she said, her voice slightly strained, her pulse thrumming in her ears. "It's fine."

But she wasn't sure anything about this was fine. It was dangerous. It was inevitable.

It was Rebecca.

She was silent for a long moment, her head resting against Zoey's chest, her fingers absently tracing the faint ridges of muscle along Zoey's stomach. Her breath was warm against Zoey's skin, each inhale and exhale syncing with the rise and fall of Zoey's chest.

"You're the fittest person I know," Rebecca murmured. "But your heart..." Her fingers splayed out over Zoey's ribcage, feeling the rapid thud beneath her palm. "It's beating like you just sprinted."

She tilted her head up, her lips grazing Zoey's collarbone as she whispered, "Tell me why."

Zoey swallowed hard, her pulse hammering beneath Rebecca's touch. She knew exactly why.

Rebecca lifted her head, her blue eyes locking onto Zoey's. The air between them shifted, thickened, time stretching impossibly thin. Rebecca leaned in, her breath fanning over Zoey's lips before she finally, finally pressed into her.

Rebecca parted her lips, her tongue slipping between Zoey's in a slow, tentative glide, tasting, teasing. The hesitant push-and-pull didn't last long. Within seconds, the kiss grew urgent and desperate.

Rebecca moved without thinking, shifting her weight, rising onto all fours, one knee slipping between Zoey's legs. Zoey exhaled sharply at the contact, her thighs instinctively parting, heat pooling between her legs.

Zoey cupped Rebecca's face between her hands and kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of restraint she'd ever had into something that now felt impossible to contain. Rebecca responded instantly, sinking into her, letting the kiss consume them both. She shifted again, pressing her knee between Zoey's legs, applying the faintest amount of pressure.

Rebecca straddled Zoey's hips, her thighs snug against Zoey's sides, pinning her in place. She looked down at her before bending forward to kiss her again. She moved slower this time, deeper, like she was savoring it.

Then, barely a breath away from Zoey's lips, she whispered, "Touch me. Please."

Zoey swallowed hard as Rebecca's hips shifted, pressing down just enough to make Zoey's pulse spike. Her hands slid between them, fingers trailing along Rebecca's stomach before moving lower, dipping past the oversized shirt, tracing the band of Rebecca's panties.

The only thing separating them now was the thin layer of lace, a delicate barrier that did nothing to hide how warm and how utterly drenched Rebecca already was. Zoey's fingers brushed over the damp fabric, eliciting the smallest gasp from Rebecca.

"That's all you," Rebecca murmured, her voice hushed and breathy.

Zoey's fingers pressed firmer against the heat pooling between Rebecca's thighs, feeling her body shudder at the touch. Her control was slipping fast.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," Zoey managed, sitting up suddenly and her arms instinctively wrapping around Rebecca's waist as she did.

Rebecca let out a surprised yelp, her laughter light. Zoey gave a coy smile, but Rebecca was already climbing off her before she could say anything else. She turned first, leading the way to the bedroom. Zoey followed with her heart pounding, hands still tingling with the memory of how Rebecca felt beneath her fingers.

Zoey reached for the hem of Rebecca's oversized shirt. Her fingers curled around the fabric before slowly pulling it up and over her head, exposing the soft curves beneath. She let the shirt fall to the floor, taking a step forward, closing the space between them.

She placed her hands on Rebecca's hips first, her palms sliding over the smooth expanse of skin, thumbs pressing into her waist before gliding lower. Her fingers traced the swell of Rebecca's ass, kneading it, squeezing firmly before letting her nails drag lightly across the sensitive skin.

Rebecca shivered.

Zoey's hands traveled back up, brushing along Rebecca's stomach, reveling in the subtle tension in her muscles before moving higher, cupping her breasts in her hands.

Rebecca inhaled sharply at the contact, arching slightly into Zoey's grip. When she raised her arms, offering herself fully, Zoey let out a quiet, shaky breath.

She held them, explored them, fascinated by the weight, the softness, how perfectly they fit in her palms. She lifted them slightly, watching how they moved, how they jiggled at the slightest motion, how her fingers sunk into the plushness before she gave an experimental squeeze. A deep, possessive satisfaction settled in her chest.

She had always been entranced by Rebecca's body, but this was different. It wasn't just looking anymore. It was about feeling and having.

Her thumbs brushed over Rebecca's nipples, and she felt them stiffen beneath her touch. She rolled them gently between her fingers, marveling at the contrast—firm against soft, delicate yet incredibly responsive.

"Is that something you like?" Rebecca asked, voice quiet.

Zoey hesitated, heat creeping up her neck. "Yes," she admitted, barely above a whisper.

Rebecca turned her head slightly, enough for Zoey to see the small, knowing smile on her lips. "Don't be embarrassed," she murmured, her tone like silk. "They're yours."

She couldn't get enough of them. Palming, kneading, teasing, watching how Rebecca reacted to every touch. And when Rebecca turned fully, her lips seeking Zoey's in a deep, languid kiss, Zoey took the opportunity to pinch her nipples between her fingers.

Rebecca moaned into her mouth, her body tensing before melting completely. Zoey swallowed hard at the sound, at the way Rebecca trembled beneath her. She wanted more.

"Take off your panties for me," Zoey said, her voice lower now, rougher, more commanding than she intended.

Rebecca didn't hesitate. She turned, hooking her thumbs into the band of her panties, and in one smooth motion she slid them down her thighs, letting them pool at her feet before stepping out of them.

Zoey barely had time to admire the sight before Rebecca was reaching for her, fingers slipping under the band of Zoey's panties, pushing them down. The brush of Rebecca's hands against her skin sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between Zoey's legs, but she let Rebecca strip her completely before gently guiding her toward the bed.

Rebecca climbed onto it first, lying back against the pillows, her legs slightly parted, inviting. Zoey crawled over her, hovering just above, drinking in the view. She dragged her fingertips across Rebecca's lips, watching as she parted them, as if waiting—ready for anything Zoey might do. The silent permission was intoxicating, but Zoey had other ideas.

Instead of claiming her lips again, she kissed a slow path downward, across her jaw, along the curve of her throat, down between her breasts, lingering to tease them one last time before continuing her descent.

Rebecca felt like her skin was on fire when Zoey's mouth reached her stomach. Her muscles were twitching beneath the soft press of lips.

And then Zoey was between her thighs, her breath warm against sensitive, already slick skin.

She didn't rush. She kissed the inside of Rebecca's thigh first, then the other, savoring the way Rebecca's body reacted. Like how her hips lifted just slightly or how her thighs tensed in anticipation.

When Zoey finally parted her lips and pressed her tongue against Rebecca's folds, she was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Rebecca was so wet, her body already responding as if it had been waiting for this.

Zoey moaned softly, the taste of Rebecca sending a rush of heat straight through her own body. She flicked her tongue slowly at first, teasing along Rebecca's entrance before dragging it up, swirling lightly over her clit.

Rebecca whimpered, her fingers tangling in Zoey's hair.

Zoey took her time, alternating between soft strokes and firmer ones, learning every little sound Rebecca made, every way she reacted. She pressed her tongue against her clit, circling with steady, deliberate pressure, before easing back down, dipping her tongue inside just enough to tease.

Rebecca's hips lifted slightly, a silent plea for more. Zoey slipped two fingers inside, her entrance welcoming the stretch.

Rebecca gasped, her back arching off the bed.

Zoey curled her fingers just right, pressing against the soft, velvety spot deep inside. The way Rebecca clenched around her was enough to make Zoey's own legs press together, the ache between them impossible to ignore.

Rebecca's breathing came in shallow pants now, her body completely at Zoey's mercy. She rocked her hips subtly, guiding Zoey's movements without even realizing it. Every now and then, Rebecca's fingers in her hair tightened, pulling her down harder against her clit, then easing up slightly, lost in the rhythm of pleasure.

Zoey could feel her getting closer, her body strung tight, on the edge. She flicked her tongue faster now, sucking lightly, curling her fingers deeper.

Rebecca cried out, her body trembling, her thighs tightening around Zoey's head.

"I'm so close," Rebecca gasped, her fingers tightening in Zoey's hair.

Zoey didn't falter. She kept her movements steady, reading Rebecca's body like a language she had always known but never been allowed to speak. The way her walls clenched around Zoey's fingers, the way her thighs trembled and the way her breath came in short gasps—it was all leading to something inevitable.

Rebecca's head fell back against the pillows, her fingers tightening in Zoey's hair again, her other hand desperately seeking purchase against the sheets.

"Zoey, I'm—" she stuttered, her voice breaking.

Zoey looked up then, her green eyes locking onto Rebecca's. The sight of her flushed lips parted in a silent plea, was nearly enough to undo Zoey completely.

"Zoey, I'm c—coming," Rebecca stuttered, her voice raw, desperate.

Then it hit.

Rebecca's entire body tensed, her back arching off the bed as the orgasm crashed through her, sharp and overwhelming, the pleasure cresting in waves so intense she couldn't contain them. Her thighs snapped shut around Zoey's head, locking her in place, her legs shaking violently as she rode out every shuddering pulse of release.

Her fingers clutched Zoey's hair so tightly she might have pulled it, but Zoey didn't stop, didn't pull away. If anything, she pressed in further, her mouth working her through it, coaxing out every last tremor until Rebecca was completely spent.

Her body trembled beneath Zoey, her breath coming in shallow gasps. One hand gripped the sheets so hard her knuckles had gone white, her other still tangled in Zoey's hair, anchoring herself to something real as her mind floated somewhere far beyond the present.

When Rebecca's body finally relaxed, her thighs loosening their grip around Zoey's head, Zoey didn't immediately pull away. Instead, she placed soft, lingering kisses along the inside of her thighs, her hands running over the smooth expanse of skin, squeezing them gently.

She loved how soft Rebecca was—how incredibly feminine she felt beneath her hands.

Zoey had always been drawn to that softness, the way Rebecca's curves fit against her body in ways that made her head spin. The contrast between them had never felt more intoxicating with the way Zoey's hands, strong and calloused from years of sports, glided over the silky smoothness of Rebecca's skin, how delicate and warm she was in contrast to Zoey's own muscle-toned body.

She pressed one last kiss to Rebecca's hip before finally looking up. Rebecca's chest was still rising and falling rapidly, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted, flushed and dazed in the aftermath.

Zoey crawled up beside her, brushing a damp strand of hair from Rebecca's forehead before murmuring, "Are you okay?"

Rebecca let out a slow, shuddering breath, turning her head to meet Zoey's gaze, her blue eyes still glazed with pleasure.

A small, exhausted smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I think you just killed me," she whispered.

Zoey gave a lopsided grin. "Nah," she murmured against Rebecca's thighs. "You're still breathing."

Rebecca chuckled softly. But as Zoey pulled back slightly, she caught the way Rebecca was looking at her—soft, open, something deeper than just physical satisfaction lingering in her gaze.

And it made Zoey's heart stutter. Zoey shifted, pushing herself up between Rebecca's legs, her lips still glistening with Rebecca's arousal. She didn't wipe it away. Instead, she leaned forward and gave Rebecca a quick, heated kiss, letting her taste herself on Zoey's tongue.

Then, with slow deliberation, Zoey moved higher, straddling Rebecca's face. She hovered for a moment, looking down, silently asking for permission, for acceptance.

Rebecca's answer came in the form of a knowing smile and firm hands gripping Zoey's hips, guiding her down. The first swipe of Rebecca's tongue sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through Zoey, making her gasp, her thighs tensing on either side of Rebecca's head.

They aligned effortlessly—like they had always been meant to fit together this way. Zoey started slow, rocking her hips gently, feeling out the rhythm, learning how Rebecca moved beneath her, how she responded, how her tongue flicked and pressed in just the right ways.

But soon, instinct took over.

Zoey had always been physical in a way Rebecca wasn't, and here, in this moment, that physicality turned into something entirely different. She rolled her hips in steady, measured movements, her hands gripping the headboard above her for support. Her muscles flexed with every roll, every push forward, every breath. Rebecca's tongue was everywhere, pressing, teasing, devouring.

Zoey groaned, her head tipping back as she surrendered to the sensation.

"Becca," she rasped, her voice distant, lost in the haze of pleasure.

Rebecca understood.

She could feel it in the way Zoey's thighs tensed, in the way her pace subtly increased, in the way her breath came in quicker, more ragged gasps.

Zoey looked down, and her eyes met Rebecca's. Those blue eyes. Dark with desire. Focused. Determined. Possessive.

And then it hit Zoey like a crashing wave, the orgasm coiling tight and snapping all at once.

A raw grunt tore from her throat as her body jerked, her thighs jerking involuntarily from the overwhelming pleasure. She tried to lift herself slightly, her muscles locking, the tension too much, but Rebecca wouldn't allow it.

Rebecca's hands gripped Zoey's hips harder, pulling her down, holding her there, making her ride it out.

Zoey gasped, her head falling back, her grip on the headboard tightening as the orgasm wracked through her in relentless waves. Each surge of pleasure sent another moan, another breathless cry spilling from her lips. Her stomach clenched, her muscles quivering, her chest rising and falling in jerking motions.

Rebecca had felt and seen everything.

First, she felt it in her hands—the way Zoey's hips bucked, the tension in her muscles as she lost control, the way she gave in and let herself be taken. Then, Rebecca felt it in the vibrations. The tremors coursed through Zoey's body as she rocked against her mouth, chasing every last bit of pleasure, wringing out every ounce of sensation.

And then, she saw it. It was the most breathtaking thing Rebecca had ever witnessed.

The way the orgasm rippled through Zoey's body, from the way her thighs clenched around Rebecca's head, up to her stomach, where muscles flexed and shuddered beneath sweat-slicked skin. The way her nipples peaked, taut with pleasure, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

And then there was her face. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted in a silent cry, expression twisted in pure, beautiful agony.

Rebecca was spellbound. She couldn't move, couldn't look away.

Even as Zoey's movements slowed, her body coming down from the high, Rebecca remained beneath her, kissing the inside of her thighs, savoring every twitch, every aftershock, every moment of having her like this.

Eventually, Zoey slumped forward, catching herself on the headboard, her body still buzzing with the remnants of pleasure. She forced out a breath, her mind still floating somewhere between the physical and something much deeper. Slowly, she pulled back, shifting off Rebecca, her legs shaky as she collapsed onto the bed beside her.

She turned her head to Rebecca, eyes heavy, lips slightly swollen, and managed a lazy, satisfied smirk.

"You're so fucking good at that," Zoey breathed, her voice filled with exhaustion.

Rebecca laughed softly, her expression just as dazed.

"You're not bad yourself."

As Rebecca settled beside Zoey, she glanced up at her, taking in the softness of her expression, the way the dim light painted shadows along her jawline.

"Can I ask you something?"

Zoey turned her head, her green eyes warm, hazy with lingering pleasure.

"Anything, baby."

"What made you fall in love with me?"

Zoey tilted her head, considering. "We were sixteen, I think? There was this game after school where a bunch of us got together and played. Mostly boys, a few girls. Some idiot tackled me, and he got me good. I cried."

Rebecca's breath hitched, her memory already catching up before Zoey even finished.

"You were on the field in seconds," Zoey murmured.

Rebecca's eyes glazed over, her mind slipping back to the moment, vivid and sharp despite the years. Zoey on the ground. The guy standing over her. The pure, blinding instinct that had taken over.

"You were hurt," Rebecca said, her voice quieter now. "One of the opponents was hovering over you."

Zoey's lips curled into a smirk. "You tackled him."

"I shoved him," Rebecca corrected, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

Zoey chuckled, low and knowing. "Not sure he felt it that way."

Images flickered in Zoey's mind. She remembered how Rebecca stormed onto the field, fury in her eyes, all sharp lines and unyielding protectiveness. She had used all her strength to shove the guy aside, chaos erupting around them. There had been yelling, whistling and the clash of teammates. But all Zoey had been able to focus on was her; Rebecca, standing over her like she belonged there, like she was always meant to shield her from the world.

Zoey exhaled softly. "Anyway... when things settled, you pulled me aside. You told me I was holding back, that the older players were taking advantage of me." She shrugged. "I guess I was."

Her gaze flicked down to Rebecca, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. "Remember what you said?"

Rebecca's fingers fidgeted with the hem of the sheets, rolling the fabric between her fingers.

"Spread your wings," she murmured. "Only then can you fly."

Zoey hummed in agreement, the sound deep and satisfied.

Rebecca bit her lip, shaking her head. "Such a corny line."

"Maybe, but it made me fall in love with you."

Rebecca barely had a second to react before Zoey was tilting her chin up, brushing her lips against hers in the softest, most deliberate kiss. It was nothing like the fire from before. This was tender, slow and meant to be remembered. She sighed into it, letting herself sink into Zoey's warmth.

~~~

Rebecca was pacing nervously in Zoey's apartment, wearing nothing but her underwear: a black thong and bra. She wasn't sure what to wear for the evening.

It was supposed to be just a casual get-together with Zoey's friends, mostly people from the team, but Rebecca wasn't very good with "casual" or "get-together."

Suddenly Zoey was in front of her, tilting her chin up.

"Hey, babe. You holding up okay?"

Rebecca looked up. "Um, what do I wear?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable with." Zoey's voice was calm, encouraging even.

Rebecca groaned. "That's not helping."

"Whatever you wear, you'll outdo every single one of them. They'll show up like me, you know, jeans and hoodie. So, something comfortable, mhm?"

Rebecca glared at her.

"Okay. I—I don't have any hoodies. What about this blue jumper, and these jeans?" she said, holding up the two items.

"Perfect."

Suddenly Rebecca was in her arms, her hair still damp from the shower. "You know I'm not good with people."

It was remarkable, Zoey thought. Physically, Rebecca was several inches shorter than her. Sometimes that wasn't noticeable, as Rebecca could dominate a room when she wanted to, her presence outshining her height. But other times, like now, she looked so small. Insecure. And sexy.

Zoey swallowed, pushing those thoughts aside as she wrapped her arms around Rebecca, her hands resting on her hips.

"You're excellent with people. But yeah, this isn't a business dinner, I know."

"Will you be there?"

Zoey tightened her hold a little. "Right by your side."

Rebecca looked down, searching for an excuse. She suddenly wished she hadn't said yes so easily when Zoey had asked. But she also wanted to be good. She wanted to show herself she could do this, and to show Zoey that her friends mattered to her too.

"I have a meeting on Wednesday on the East Coast..." she began.

"It doesn't have to be late. And if at any point it feels like too much, we leave."

Rebecca looked up.

"I think it'd be good for you," Zoey whispered, her voice calm, her eyes steady.

Rebecca lost herself in those emerald eyes, her hands resting on Zoey's chest.

"I'm so proud of you, you know," Zoey continued. "You've done exceptionally well."

"I have not," Rebecca mumbled, but she knew how hollow the words were as she said them. There had been progress.

Zoey smiled and kissed her forehead. "Yes you have. But I'll never force you to do anything you don't want to."

"Okay," Rebecca whispered. "Blue jumper and jeans it is."

She resolved herself and disappeared into the bathroom.

Good girl, Zoey thought, smiling to herself as she watched the way Rebecca's legs moved, the sway of her hips, the slight jiggle of her butt.

"Becca?"

"Mhm?"

"Can you come back for a second?"

Rebecca padded back until she stood in front of her again, looking a little lighter. "Yeah?"

"Sorry. Just wanted another look at you."

Rebecca tilted her head, her face puzzled.

Zoey shrugged. "It's not my fault you're gorgeous."

Rebecca let out a light laugh, kissed Zoey on the cheek, and turned back toward the bathroom.

At the door, she paused as glanced over her shoulder. Then, with a playful tilt of her hips, she made her cheeks jiggle.

Zoey exhaled sharply through her nose. "Dammit, woman."

Rebecca smirked and then disappeared into the bathroom.

The time flew by, and before they knew it, they were on their way to one of the local pubs called Mary's, on King's Street.

Mary's was one of those rare places that felt both lived-in and quietly elegant. The dim lighting bathed everything in soft amber, reflecting off polished brass fixtures and the deep grain of dark wood tables. Old leather chairs, cracked and worn at the edges, and an air that carried the comforting weight of aged whiskey, woodsmoke, and something faintly sweet.

Even with the crowd thicker than usual, the pub held its charm. Laughter echoed warmly against the brick walls, and every clink of glass seemed to land softly, absorbed by the wood and leather. It wasn't the kind of place that demanded attention.

They were greeted with a chorus of hi's and hello's. Some shook hands; others went straight for the hugs. Zoey stuck close to Rebecca's side, a physical anchor against the gentle chaos. There were mostly women, a few men, laughter already curling through the air like smoke.

Somewhere in the mess of conversations, Rebecca caught an offhand comment about wanting to go to Japan. She heard it, but dared not say anything, until Zoey, smooth as ever, nudged her in.

"Hey, Jessie!" Zoey called out, "Rebecca's been to Japan. Didn't you want to go there?"

Suddenly a petite dirty blonde appeared, eyes bright with curiosity. "Yeah! What's it like?"

Rebecca blushed, caught off guard. "What's what like?"

"The food!"

Rebecca smiled and began to explain the dishes she had tried. One story led to another, one country blended into the next, and soon Rebecca was in the thick of it—the center of attention, telling tales from her travels around the world. The good, the bad and the downright ugly. And she was laughing. Bright laughter that lit up the room.

When Zoey felt confident enough that Rebecca was fully in her element, she quietly pulled back, leaning against the doorway, watchful but content.

That's when Paul stepped in. Ever the well-dressed older gentleman, his crisp suit and neat gray mustache made him look wise, even a little timeless.

"Good evening, Ms. Carter. I was asked to come pick you up."

"You might have to wait a few minutes," Zoey said, smiling.

"Oh?" He followed her gaze.

There was Rebecca, laughing in the middle of the crowd, animated and shining.

Paul chuckled quietly. "She looks so happy."

"She does, doesn't she?"

"Well done, Ms. Carter."

"Team effort," Zoey replied, grinning and raising a fist. Paul chuckled again and bumped it with his own.

Together they watched Rebecca coming out of her shell. Even though she was shy, she was smiling and laughing freely. For Zoey, it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen, and somehow, she loved her even more in that moment than she ever thought possible.

Finally, Rebecca looked up, scanned the room, and found Zoey watching her. She excused herself, weaving through the crowd, greeting Paul on the way with a soft hello.

Her voice was small when she reached Zoey, her eyes big and shining. Zoey thought she looked absolutely adorable.

"I don't wanna go home."

"You having a good time?"

Rebecca nodded, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"I'm sorry, baby, but you've got a flight tomorrow morning at eight. You're off to the East Coast, mhm?"

"I know, but..."

"There'll be other chances. I promise. Now come on, let's say goodbye. Paul's waiting to take us home."

Zoey grabbed her hand gently, and together they made their way back to the crowd to say their goodbyes.

In the car on the way home, there wasn't much talking. Zoey stole glances at Rebecca, catching her smiling softly to herself, replaying the night in her mind. There was no need for conversation because the happiness, or rather the feeling of it, was more than enough.

~~~

Weeks later, they ended up on the couch—legs tangled under a shared blanket, the soft glow of the TV flickering across their faces, Rebecca's head on Zoey's chest.

"You've been quiet all evening," Rebecca said softly. "What's on your mind, tiger?"

Zoey tried to look at her but glanced away.

Rebecca's hand slid gently across her cheek. "Baby, look at me."

"I don't wanna."

Rebecca bit her lip, fighting a smile. "Zoey Carter. What's wrong?"

Zoey hesitated, then glanced over, her voice low. "I've met someone else."

Rebecca's hand shot up in offense, gasping dramatically, her lips twitching.

"Yeah, not sure I told you. You're not the one for me anymore," she continued, as she fiddled with her fingers.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yeah, the truth is... I like men now. I love penises and stuff."

Rebecca burst out laughing. "You love them, huh? What exactly do you love?"

"You know... the hardness. And stuff."

"The hardness, and stuff," Rebecca nodded slowly. "Yes, enticing aspects but, you know, you didn't complain last night. In fact, you seemed pretty content with my fingers."

Zoey's lips tugged into a reluctant smile, and as she fought it, Rebecca grabbed her hand.

"Have you even been with a man?"

Zoey shook her head, sheepish.

"Ah. But now you've met one." Rebecca dropped her gaze, pretending to pout. "When do I need to move out?"

Zoey winced. "No, don't move out. I lied."

"Really? You sure I can stay?"

"Uh-huh."

Rebecca leaned forward and gave Zoey a peck on her cheek. "Thank you." Her fingers tightened gently around Zoey's. "Don't be like me, sweetie. It's enough that we have one disaster in this home. Tell me what's wrong."

Zoey's smile faltered. Her thumb brushed against Rebecca's hand, slow and distracted. She looked down for a moment, then back up—her eyes softer, less guarded.

"Becca, am I good enough?"

That made Rebecca shift, leaning back on one arm and lifting her head to get a better look at her.

"Baby, is this about the other day? When you almost burned down the apartment?"

Zoey shot her a look.

"I told you! There was a lot of grease. It wasn't my fault. I was trying to make something nice, for you, you know."

"And you did. A full kitchen fire." Rebecca smirked. "I've never seen flames like that outside a barbecue. We both agreed you're not cooking unsupervised ever again."

"What would you have done if the apartment burned down?"

"I'd have bought us a new one from the money I got selling my place." She chuckled, then kissed Zoey gently on the cheek. "You take care of me, and I take care of you. Still... something's on your mind."

Zoey gave a small nod.

"It's not about us, I don't think," Rebecca continued.

Another nod. "I rock your world. And you rock mine right back. We're awesome together."

Rebecca smiled. "Is it about me?" she tried with slight hesitation in her voice.

"No." She kissed Rebecca's knuckles. "You've done so well. You feel lighter these days, like yourself again. I'm proud of you." Her lips brushed Rebecca's knuckles once more.

"You're sweet. Thank you." Rebecca tilted her head. "If it's not about the past, and not the present... then it is about what comes next?"

"Maybe."

Ah. There we go.

"This is about the baby talk. Did I scare you when I brought it up over dinner? Sweetie, we're not running to the store to pick one up tomorrow. It was just a thought. A seed. Something we can talk about, you know, together." She bumped her forehead gently against Zoey's. "Okay?"

"Yeah, but, what if I'm not good at it?" Zoey sighed. "This whole parenting thing."

"You've always been good at whatever you set your mind to. The unknown can be scary. But we've got each other, yeah?"

Rebecca straightened her back slightly, squeezing Zoey's hand.

"If you don't want a baby, that's okay," she continued. "That's reason enough. But if it's fear holding you back... that's something we'll face together."

This time, it was Zoey looking up with wide eyes.

"Aren't you scared?"

"Oh honey, I've got you by my side. What do I have to be scared of? Besides, for a team made up of a dingus and a strong, capable woman I think only the sky's the limit."

"Wait, who's—"

"I'll let you figure that one out." Rebecca grinned.

Zoey groaned, but before she could protest, Rebecca's lips were on hers. Firm, certain and full of everything they'd been dancing around.

Zoey kissed her back, deeper and slower, until the world around them disappeared, and there was only this. Only them.

Epilogue: A Few Years Later

"We should have done this years ago," Rebecca mused, shifting her weight, each step carefully placed as they walked.

"I know. You okay?"

"Never better."

"I mean, if you'd walk any slower we'd go back in time."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "That's not how time travel works."

"It's not?"

Rebecca deadpanned. "Really? We're doing this now? You'd have to go faster than the speed of light, bend spacetime or something."

Zoey nodded solemnly. "Exactly what I said. Go fast enough and boom, walking with dinosaurs."

Rebecca stared at the back of her head as they made their way forward.

"That's not how it works."

Zoey kept on walking, pretending to think. "Or maybe you just have to drive your car backward at 88 miles per hour."

"That's Back to the Future!"

"Science fiction is still science."

"Please tell me you're joking."

Zoey came to a halt, grinning wide. "Of course I am." She started walking again, tilting her head. "Everyone knows you just throw it in reverse at light speed."

Rebecca kept her eyes on the trail, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Can't believe I lost to you atJeopardy! last night. God, you're lucky you have that ass."

As Zoey chuckled, Rebecca adjusted the harness strapped snugly against her chest.

"You know what, you try carrying an extra eight pounds and then we'll talk."

"It can't be that bad. You are carrying him in a harness. Oh, look, we're here."

"Oh? Alright, then let's switch."

Rebecca carefully lifted their baby boy and handed him off to Zoey. Max yawned, completely unfazed.

"Did you bring the knife?" Rebecca asked.

Zoey blinked. "No? I thought you did?"

Rebecca let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes to the sky. "Good lord. There's hopeless, and then there's you." She tilted her head. "It's still in the car?"

Zoey grinned. "Maaaybe."

"I should've met someone competent."

Zoey gasped, clutching Max tighter. "How dare you? Look at this perfect child I'm holding. I contributed half of this greatness."

Rebecca couldn't help but smile. "Debatable."

Zoey gasped again, scandalized. "Max, you hear this? Your momma is a bully."

Max stirred slightly but remained peacefully asleep.

"Hold on to him. Don't drop him, okay? I'll run and get the knife."

As Rebecca got a move on, Zoey walked aimlessly around, holding on to Max. She scoffed.

"Like I'd drop—" Her foot snagged on a root, and she stumbled, clutching Max with both hands like he was the holy grail.

"Shit. That was close. Don't tell your mom."

"Don't tell me what?" Rebecca said behind her.

Zoey spun around. "Since when did you get so fast?"

Rebecca smirked, closing the space between them. "Since we got a baby boy."

She leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss against Zoey's lips. Their foreheads remained touching as they both glanced down at Max, still perfectly nestled in Zoey's arms.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

It took only a few minutes with Rebecca's hands working quickly with the knife.

It would be years before someone stumbled upon what they had done. But that didn't matter, because the tree that had once held a single heart, carved with a Z, was now complete—joined by an R.

Their love, etched into the world, for anyone to see.

They stepped back, admiring their work with their baby boy still sleeping soundly against Zoey's chest. A quiet settled over them as they stood side by side.

Finally, Zoey broke it as she handed the harness and Max back to Rebecca.

"I love our story. Can you imagine it? This would've been the perfect ending. The camera pulls back, us standing here... everything tied up in a neat little bow."

Rebecca shifted beside her. "You think they would end it with us staring at a tree?"

Zoey chuckled as she looked at it one last time. "Guess not. How would you end it?"

"Oh, I have an idea or two," Rebecca began, adjusting Max against her hip. "Honey, help me down?"

Zoey turned, catching Rebecca about to kneel.

"Why? You drop something?" Zoey helped guide her down, glancing at the ground, eyes scanning the grass.

"Sweetie," Rebecca said, giving her a look. "You're gonna have to get back up."

Zoey straightened slowly. "Baby, what are you doing?"

Rebecca patted her pockets, muttering under her breath. Shit.

"Uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Can you come down again?"

Zoey dropped back to one knee, a smile tugging at her lips.

"My ring's stuck in my pocket. I can't reach it. Help?"

Zoey's smile turned into a full blown grin. "Are you really doing this?"

"I'mtrying to," Rebecca said, half-laughing.

"Alright." She reached into Rebecca's pocket, fished out the ring and gently pressed it into her hand.

"Okay, up again."

Zoey stood, and the air shifted between them.

"Zoey," Rebecca began, her voice earnest, but then she stopped. "You know what? It's like trying to propose to a skyscraper. Come back down."

Zoey laughed and soon they were both kneeling, Rebecca holding the ring, Zoey beaming.

"Zoey, my love, will you—"

"Wait, babe,"

Rebecca arched an eyebrow.

"This isn't an act of desperation, right?"

"What? No!"

Zoey cupped Rebecca's face in her hands.

"I figure that since you lost at Jeopardy! last night, you realized you met your match, and now you're trying to lock me down in a panic."

Rebecca covered her mouth to hide a laugh. "You're such an idiot."

Zoey grinned. "So I've been told."

Rebecca bit her lip, smiling. "That's what's happening, huh? You bested me at a game show and here we are."

"Only thing that makes sense to me."

"It's not because you're the most amazing person in my life?"

"I mean..."

"It's not because when I'm struggling with Max, you step in without a word, with that huge, ridiculous grin, and give me time to breathe?"

Zoey gave a light shrug.

Rebecca's voice turned slightly more earnest and serious.

"It's not because you pulled me out of my darkness and never, ever, made me feel small for it?"

Zoey swallowed. "I'd do anything for you. With you."

They were so close that Rebecca leaned her forehead against Zoey's.

"I know. That's why I'm asking you to marry me. I want you to be my idiot. You mean the world to me."

Tears welled up in Rebecca's eyes, slipping free.

"I'm sorry," she laughed through it. "I can't help it. Happy tears. Ever since Max came, they just... happen."

Zoey brushed them away with her thumbs. "I know. God, you're beautiful."

Rebecca closed her eyes, smiling. "You complete me."

"We complete each other. Of course I'll marry you."

Rebecca gave her a light kiss on the lips.

"Okay, now, let's go home."

Zoey helped Rebecca up, took over the harness and their baby boy, and together they headed for the car.

"So," Zoey said, "who are we inviting?"

"Nobody from my side, that's for sure. Maybe Dad. Mostly your friends and family."

"Your dad's in heaven," Zoey replied, an eyebrow raised.

"I know. He'd approve of us, though. Got the best seat in the house too."

Zoey laughed. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

They walked quietly, the weight of it all settling around them in the best way.

"Hmm, babe?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry."

Rebecca smiled as they reached the car. She popped the trunk and dug into one of the bags.

"Here, a square of dark chocolate."

Zoey's eyes lit up as she took a small bite. "Thank you," she mumbled. "So is this how you would end the story? On a parking lot, next to an open trunk?"

"I'd end it on us, silly. You nibbling chocolate, like a tiger with a sweet tooth, and me, kissing you on the cheek."

"I love you," Zoey said through a grin, still nibbling.

"And I you."

Rebecca leaned in, cupping one side of Zoey's face, and pressed a kiss to the other—light as a breath, sure as a vow and full of the things yet to come.

The End