Midnight
New York — December 2023
Leah should have answered the question immediately.
Instead she just looked at her.
At the curve of Elle's mouth wrapped around the edge of a smile. At the soft gold light catching in her curls. At the way her fingers rested loosely around the stem of her glass like she wasn't completely aware she was driving Leah insane.
The hotel bar hummed quietly around them.
Jazz somewhere in the background. Ice clinking against glasses. New York rain tapping softly against high windows.
But Leah barely noticed any of it.
Because Elle was looking at her like that.
"Well?" Elle pressed softly.
Leah leaned back against the booth with a grin she couldn't quite hide. "You always this demanding?"
"Yes."
"Good to know."
Elle laughed quietly under her breath and shook her head. "You're avoiding the question."
"Maybe I like keeping you uncertain."
"You texted me for two months straight," Elle replied. "There's nothing uncertain about this."
That hit harder than it should have.
Leah's smile softened slightly.
Because she was right.
There really wasn't anything uncertain anymore.
Not after late-night calls. Not after falling asleep mid-conversation. Not after Leah started instinctively reaching for her phone whenever something happened because somehow Elle had become the first person she wanted to tell.
And definitely not after the way her entire chest tightened every time Elle smiled at her tonight.
Leah looked down briefly before meeting her eyes again.
"Yeah," she admitted quietly. "It's a date."
Elle's expression changed immediately.
Not dramatically.
Just softer.
Warmer.
Like hearing Leah say it aloud mattered more than she expected.
"Good," Elle murmured. "Because I wore this outfit for a reason."
Leah nearly choked on her drink.
"Oh my God."
Elle laughed properly then, head tipping back slightly.
And Christ.
That laugh.
Leah had heard it through phones and voice notes for weeks, but hearing it in person was unfair somehow. Richer. Warmer. Real enough that Leah physically felt it in her chest.
"You're nervous," Elle said suddenly.
Leah blinked. "What?"
"You keep touching your rings."
Leah immediately stopped moving her hands.
"That's horrifying information."
Elle smiled smugly. "I notice things."
"Clearly."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Elle tilted her head slightly. "You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"You're calmer on television."
Leah laughed under her breath. "That's because television doesn't usually involve attractive women staring at me for two straight hours."
Elle's eyebrows lifted slowly.
"See?" Leah pointed. "That face right there is exactly the problem."
"What face?"
"The one that makes me forget basic sentence structure."
Elle bit back a smile, looking briefly down at her drink.
And that tiny reaction — that tiny flash of shyness — made something in Leah unravel slightly.
Because Elle was beautiful. Obviously. Anyone with functioning eyesight knew that.
But Leah hadn't expected her to be nervous too.
That changed things.
Made this feel less like admiration and more like possibility.
The bartender announced last orders around midnight.
Neither moved.
Neither seemed particularly interested in ending the night.
"You tired?" Elle asked softly.
"Not remotely."
"Jet lag hasn't hit?"
"I think my body's too stressed to process time properly."
Elle laughed quietly. "You're very intense."
"You like it."
"I really do."
The honesty in the answer landed heavily between them.
Leah looked at her for a second too long.
And suddenly the booth felt smaller.
Warmer.
The tension that had simmered all evening sharpened slowly into something unmistakable.
Elle must have felt it too because her voice dropped slightly when she next spoke.
"So," she murmured, tracing a finger lightly around the rim of her glass, "be honest."
"That's dangerous."
"How many times have you imagined this?"
Leah inhaled slowly.
Because there it was.
The thing neither of them had admitted aloud yet.
The wanting.
She could lie.
Probably should lie.
Instead—
"Too many."
Elle's eyes darkened slightly.
"Yeah?"
Leah nodded once, unable to look away from her now.
"Especially after FaceTime calls."
Elle let out the smallest breath of laughter.
"That's good," she said softly. "Because I thought I was insane."
Leah smiled slowly. "You probably are."
"True."
Another silence settled between them.
But this one felt different.
Heavy.
Charged.
Leah became hyperaware of every tiny thing — Elle's knee brushing hers beneath the table, the slow movement of her fingers against her glass, the way her eyes kept flicking briefly to Leah's mouth before returning.
God.
Leah's pulse thudded hard beneath her skin.
Outside, New York blurred gold through rain.
Inside, neither woman seemed capable of pretending this was casual anymore.
Then quietly—
"So what happens now?" Elle asked.
Leah looked at her for a long second.
Then stood slowly from the booth.
Elle's eyes followed immediately.
Leah held her hand out.
"Come find out."