Finally Loved

Chapter 18

T he song switched, a familiar, driving bass kicking in behind the DJ announcing that it was the final song of the night. Alba’s eyes lit up, catching Zainab’s as they both whooped excitedly. She’d danced on and off throughout the night, but she absolutely had to dance to this one. Plus, it was the end of the night and Zainab’s birthday. It needed to go off with a bang.

Zainab’s hands whipped into the air and she pointed towards the dance floor, rallying the eager group, minus Francisco and Tariq, who simply slipped back into their own little bubble at the table.

Alba laughed and slipped her hand into Neve’s. “Come dance?”

Neve looked up at her, eyes wide, and nodded. It really was unfair of her to look at Alba like that. She was already pretty enough without the puppy dog expression.

“Great.” Alba led her after the others quickly, refusing to let go of her hand.

Deep down, she knew she should have let go, knew she shouldn’t have been enjoying just getting to be the one holding Neve’s hand, or the number of people who had not-so-subtly asked if the two of them were together, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe she was a little bit tipsy and that was a good excuse for her actions. She hoped nobody would scrutinize that too closely.

She suddenly had a better understanding of the shy, happy looks Francisco and Tariq had always gotten in their eyes when she’d asked whether they were together. Given the amount she’d noticed them touching lately, she wondered whether they’d finally made it official, and, if they had, she wasn’t sure anyone would believe any excuse other than the fact that she was falling hard and fast for Neve.

They probably weren’t buying her excuses either way.

The two of them joined the rest of their group, but she kept Neve close, still holding her hand. Nothing Neve did suggested she wanted Alba to let go of her either, which soothed Alba’s guilt and kept her holding on. There was a significant blush across Neve’s cheeks, but Alba simply chalked that up to the crowded dance floor, which did feel several degrees warmer than the area they’d just left.

Bass pounded in Alba’s chest, her body moved to the music, her voice sang the lyrics, and the people around her crowded in on them until she and Neve were pressed up against each other. There were a couple of other people partly pressed into her too, but she wasn’t bothered about them.

Keeping their hands linked together, she wrapped her arm around Neve, and the back of her hand pressed into the small of Neve’s back. It was intimate. Too intimate for the location, probably. Too intimate for someone she was just friends with. Too intimate for her heart to ignore the way it made her feel. It was going to hurt like hell later, but, in the moment, it felt perfect.

Neve, blushing so furiously it was visible even in the dim light, smiled up at her before looking quickly away.

Alba’s heart clenched and her brain begged her to figure out what that look meant. In any other situation, she’d have interpreted it as flirtatious. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t been hit on while dancing before. But this was Neve. Her friend.

But Alba had a lot of friends and she didn’t dance like this with any of them.

She tried to shake it off, singing along with the others, with everyone on the dance floor, even as all she could really focus on was all the places her body touched Neve’s—especially when Neve adjusted her grasp slightly so that their fingers were half intertwined.

Alba was certain she was going to explode.

The song was speeding towards its conclusion, but Alba didn’t want it to end. She could happily stay there forever, dancing with her friends, and holding Neve for the rest of time.

Still moving with her, Neve looked back up. Her eyes were full of questions Alba didn’t know how to answer, but she met Neve’s gaze with a smile.

It felt like the rest of the world faded away. Part of her brain could still hear the music, could still feel the people moving around her, but all that really seemed to exist was Neve.

Their swaying became softer, gentler, no longer in time with the song they’d just been singing along to. Alba’s gaze slipped from Neve’s eyes to her lips and she watched them part slightly. She couldn’t tell whether it was just the music or whether she could feel both her own heart and Neve’s pounding. Her own heart felt like it was racing fast enough for the both of them.

And Neve smiled. Wide, beautiful, wondrous, real. She’d been through so much lately, but here she was, smiling so genuinely on a dance floor with Alba, surrounded by friends who already adored her. If Alba hadn’t already been a sucker for a great smile, she’d have been a goner from that moment.

As it was, she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, her heart jump into her throat, and every muscle in her body aching to kiss Neve. She would never do it, of course, not without very clear, open, sober consent, but she’d been looked at more than enough times like that and it had always meant someone wanted to kiss her.

The lights came up.

Alba blinked, glancing around. The crowd was cheering, the music gone. The night was over.

She sucked in an unsteady breath. She’d never lost all sense of place and time like that before. It was intoxicating. Neve was intoxicating.

She shot Neve a smile, secretive, slightly confused, and undoubtedly besotted, and stepped back slightly as space was freed up around them.

Neve didn’t let go of her hand.

When Alba looked away, Zainab’s eyes were the first ones she met. She rolled her eyes at Zainab’s knowing expression and laughed. Somehow she had both always known and had no idea at all. If she’d had the slightest inkling of how hard Alba was falling, her teasing would have been a million times worse.

Alba led the way back to their table. Nobody said anything, nobody expected her to let go of Neve—even as they gathered their things and said goodbye to those going home separately—and nobody laughed, but Alba saw the smug expressions and the questions she’d be asked at a later date as she gave them one-armed hugs, refusing to let go of Neve, even when Neve loosened her grasp to allow Alba to let go. Alba simply held on tighter until Neve tightened her grasp again.

Neither of them put their jackets on given that doing so would have required letting go, but it was a warm night, so, by the time it was just the two of them, Zainab, Tariq, and Francisco walking through the parking lot together, Alba didn’t even feel the need for a jacket.

She laughed and jiggled Neve’s arm. “Race you to the car.”

Without further warning, she took off running, dragging a squealing Neve along with her.

“I came here in a cab. I don’t even know which car we’re looking for,” Neve yelled, laughing.

“I know.”

They ran straight before taking a hard turn, and Alba raced forwards until her hand slapped against the back of Tariq’s car. She pulled Neve in, sliding her between the back of the car and her own body. With her hand still against the car, up by Neve’s face, Alba knew undoubtedly that nobody could see the moment and think it was platonic.

She almost came to her senses and stepped back, but Neve looked up at her with those wide eyes again as her free hand found Alba’s hip, and every bone in Alba’s body was certain a friend had never touched her there.

“I win,” she whispered breathlessly, her face close to Neve’s.

Neve hummed as she pressed her lips together briefly. “Does it count if I didn’t know what the finish line looked like?”

Alba laughed. “It definitely does.”

“Would it have counted if you hadn’t known what the finish line was?”

Alba loved Neve like this—cheeky and open and relaxed. She loved every version of her, but there was something about this version that seemed like the most real, most concealed version of her, and Alba loved every second she got being around it. “Maybe. Perhaps we’ll have to race again and see.”

“Maybe.”

Alba didn’t miss the moment Neve’s gaze flickered to her lips. Every part of her body felt alive. She could feel her chest heaving, begging her to lean in.

Someone cleared their throat from behind Alba.

She jumped back slightly, turning to see Zainab giving her a very pointed look, Francisco shooting an amused look at Neve, and Tariq trying desperately to stifle a smile as they fidgeted with their keys.

Alba had been right to assume the moment hadn’t looked platonic.

She wasn’t really sure what to do with that, though.

“Are we standing out here all night, or shall we go home?” Zainab asked, her voice thick with amusement. “Pretty sure I have some cake back there that I could do with a slice of.”

Alba shot her a look. “We just had cake.”

“Eh. That was at least an hour ago. But, hey, if you don’t want any, that’s fine by me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Zainab gestured to the car with a flourish. “Shall we then?”

“Pretty sure Tariq’s the one with the power to unlock it.”

“Pretty sure they already did.”

“Oh.” Alba looked from Zainab and Tariq to the car. She’d been in it more than enough times to know the noise it made when the doors unlocked. She hadn’t heard it at all. Hadn’t noticed anything at all—nothing besides Neve.

She grinned, playing the moment off. They all knew the deal, they didn’t need to linger on it.

Tariq laughed and headed to the driver’s seat, breaking the stalemate moment for the others and allowing them to move too.

Alba had always assumed that the non-drinkers in a group must have reams of stories from nights out—some that their friends couldn’t remember, depending on the group, she supposed—but their group was pretty tame. Tariq didn’t drink at all, Francisco was sometimes open to a glass of wine with dinner, but not always, and the others had a couple, but nobody ever ended up particularly drunk. Ordinarily, Alba might consider that a positive—being the sober friend in a trashed group couldn’t be the most fun night out—but, now, she found herself realizing that that meant nobody was going to forget the way she’d been acting with Neve all night. And nobody had a better story to tell that would render this all unimportant by comparison.

She finally let go of Neve’s hand to get into the car, squeezing herself into the middle seat between Zainab and Neve, despite Neve’s insistence that she could go in the middle, and her hand felt cold. The connection between them was broken and all of the emotions that had been building up inside of her all night seemed to be bouncing anxiously around with nowhere to go.

She wanted to reach out and hold Neve’s hand again as they settled into the car and Tariq drove them home, but the situation wasn’t ideal, and she was painfully aware that she didn’t know what it meant. She’d never been particularly hung up on what things meant before, but she cared with Neve. The last thing she wanted was to take advantage, to push Neve into something she didn’t want, or to ruin their friendship.

Sure, she could no longer deny how strong her feelings were, but she wanted Neve in her life. She was perfectly happy to just be friends. Although, if they were going to do that, tonight’s antics had probably just demonstrated that a conversation was warranted. One where Alba explained her feelings, apologized for her actions, and was clear about not simply being interested in Neve for… sex.

She frowned, the conversation between the others washing over her.

There was a part of her that wanted Neve physically, of course there was, but it really wasn’t about that. She wanted Neve in a bigger way, a more complete way. In many ways, she didn’t want to have sex with her. Not because she wasn’t attracted to her, but because she knew Neve would never want that. She’d never understood or wanted someone like that before. Every relationship—fling, possibly—she’d ever had had been born from physical attraction, sexual attraction. She’d never dated anyone she’d known first. She’d never wanted to.

Not once had she ever just enjoyed someone sitting beside her in a car. Not once had she ever felt such an electric thrill from holding someone’s hand. Not once had she ached to kiss someone just to be consumed by kissing them. It had always been enjoyable, but it had been heavy with the anticipation of sex. The way she wanted to kiss Neve was so unfamiliar that she felt like a teenager waiting for her first kiss all over again. It wasn’t even comparable to anything that had happened in her adult years. The thought of kissing Neve felt like… wanting to kiss someone’s soul, rather than their body.

She had no idea how it all worked, but she was glad she hadn’t lived her whole life never feeling it.

Her eyes drifted to Zainab. Even she couldn’t have imagined this, but how had she known? Getting over Neve was going to be a million times more difficult than anything Alba had ever done before. Somewhere in her heart, she felt like she might never have truly been in love before. She’d thought she had, but then Neve…

Neve’s index finger brushed deliberately against the side of Alba’s knee. Zainab might have seen it, but the other two wouldn’t have.

Alba looked at her with a questioning smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked in the softest whisper.

Alba nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” How could she be anything but when Neve was there, looking out for her?

She was in so deep.

They made it back to their apartment, and through Zainab asking if Tariq and Francisco wanted to come in, without Alba zoning out again. They declined but spent so long saying goodbye to Neve that Alba’s heart began to ache again. They adored her. Of course they did. When the two of them first met, she’d spent an hour with Neve and basically rewritten the entire course of her life. Of course spending an evening with her caused them to love her too. Neve just fit in so well with the group. They were Alba’s family here, her chosen family, and she could see all of the ways Neve just fit, all of the relationships she’d build, all of the ways she’d be adored for exactly who she was. And, after everything with Charlie and Alice, Alba almost wanted to cry watching people genuinely appreciate Neve for all that she was.

Alba almost rolled her eyes at herself. She was so sappy in love.

The three of them made their way up to their apartment and, again, Alba was hit with how wonderful it was to see Neve relaxing here. Alba had never been one for the whole U-Hauling thing, but she finally realized why it was a thing. Neve could pitch up in her room and never leave and Alba wouldn’t spend one day of the rest of her life upset about it.

“Cake, then?” Zainab asked, grinning.

“Do you even need to ask?” Alba shot back.

Neve laughed. “Do you mind if I just take a quick shower first? I’ll only be a minute.”

“Not at all.” Alba waved in the direction of her room and the bathroom. “You know where everything is. Help yourself.”

Neve gave her the sweetest, most grateful smile, and something delicious shot through Alba at the idea of Neve really treating this place like it was her home—going through Alba’s toiletries, helping herself to towels… It wasn’t anything, really—anyone could do it—and yet, it felt so achingly sweet when it was Neve.

Neve turned and walked away, and Zainab snorted. “You’re going to try to act like you two aren’t a couple?”

Alba barely heard her. She shot off after Neve.

“Hey,” she said, catching her up in the bedroom—Alba’s bedroom, their bedroom?

Neve paused like she’d been caught doing something wrong. “Hey?”

Alba smiled. “What are you doing for the holiday weekend?”

“Oh.” She relaxed. “Nothing really.”

Alba nodded. She’d never taken anyone home. Not once. Not ever.

Well, she’d taken friends home. So, wasn’t this supposed to feel the same? She was just bringing a friend. Supposedly.

“Why?” Neve asked, taking a step forward.

“My family does this beach house thing every year. You know, cousins, grandparents, everyone hanging out.”

“Okay.”

Alba breathed against the butterflies in her stomach. It was just two friends, hanging out. Her mother would be thrilled to meet another one of Alba’s friends. “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh.” Neve blushed again. Alba was really starting to love the sight of it. “Are you sure your family wouldn’t mind me crashing at the last minute?”

Alba laughed. “Not at all. My mother is from the school of invite and feed everyone you’ve ever met . And even the more discerning members are always happy to meet friends, family, partners of those attending.” She tried not to notice the way her voice sounded slightly strangled when speaking about partners in attendance.

Neve smiled nervously. “You’re not going to ditch me the whole weekend to fend for myself, are you?”

“Of course not.” Alba would never do that to her. It was much more likely that she wouldn’t leave Neve’s side for even a minute.

“Okay. Then, uh, yeah. I’d love to go.”

Alba couldn’t keep the dazzling grin off her face. “Great.” She nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll let you take that shower now.”

Neve nodded, waiting until Alba was right by the door before she whispered, “Thanks. Alba.”

The pause in the middle did something strange to Alba’s insides. She felt herself blushing as she headed back towards Zainab and the kitchen.

Zainab didn’t look up from her phone when Alba entered and set about boiling the kettle for drinks to go with the cake. With Alba being so mesmerized by Neve, it took a minute, but she finally caught the little smile on Zainab’s face. She couldn’t help but think it likely wasn’t a million miles away from the look she’d had on her own face back when Neve first texted her.

She cleared her throat lightly. “Someone interesting?”

Zainab looked at her with dangerously narrowed eyes. After being caught pinning Neve to Tariq’s car, Alba supposed she was playing a dangerous game. But what was life without a little danger?

“Or something,” she added, entirely unnecessarily.

Zainab finished typing and slipped her phone into her pocket. “You know, I’ll at least give you this, it’s not as unrequited as I thought it would be.”

Alba watched as Zainab opened the fridge and pulled out the remnants of the cake her colleagues had presented her with earlier in the day. “What’s not?”

She sighed heavily. “It’s actually insulting that you somehow managed to get someone as intelligent as Neve interested in you.”

“You’re changing the subject,” she pointed out, willing the slight desperation of wanting Zainab’s words to be true not to show on her face.

“Right, because you never do that.”

“Nope.”

“I don’t know what she sees in you.” She sliced the cake and placed three servings on the table.

“We’re just friends.”

“Ha. You just spent all night with friends and not once have I seen you act the way you do with her with any of them.” She looked pointedly towards Alba’s hip. “And you and I have been friends for a long time, but I don’t think you’ve ever found my hands on your hips.”

“To be fair, it was just one hand.”

“Yes, because the other was holding yours.” Zainab rolled her eyes and sat down. “You cannot be this clueless.”

Alba wasn’t sure she was clueless. Confused, perhaps, but not clueless. She knew Zainab was right. Hadn’t she been thinking the same thing all night long? And, if Zainab was seeing it too, that meant her interpretation wasn’t simply being favorably filtered through her own hopeful feelings. But she still didn’t totally understand it. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t lose Neve.

She scrubbed a hand over her face, not bothering about whether she smudged her makeup. “I don’t know what to tell you. We are just friends.”

“Only because neither of you has bothered to ask the other out yet.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Why? Because someone dumped her a short while ago? Because she’s going through the experience of figuring out her friends are shit?”

“Well, now that you mention it, yeah, those two things probably are a bit relevant, wouldn’t you say?”

“No. I wouldn’t.”

Alba gaped at her. “Explain?”

Zainab shifted in her seat and watched Alba drop into the one across from her. “The breakup was clearly rough, but she knows it wasn’t the relationship for her. She doesn’t seem to miss her ex, she doesn’t seem all that bothered by the loss of that relationship. She’s clearly not just rebounding.”

“How could you possibly know all that?”

Zainab glared. “Because I’ve spent time with her, asked questions, and because I pay attention, maybe? You might have brought her into our lives, but she’s my friend now too.”

“Fine.” Alba could barely suppress her grin at hearing Zainab describe them as friends. Neve really did just fit with them.

“And the Charlie thing… Well, life is always going to have shit bits. It doesn’t mean you can’t have good bits during them. If everyone sat around waiting only for the good moments, nobody would ever do anything.”

“I’m not going to take advantage of her while she’s going through something difficult.”

“I don’t think it counts if she’s looking at you like she wants you to take advantage.”

Alba pursed her lips. Neve didn’t look at her like that. Zainab’s comments had a very clear, sexual undercurrent, but maybe that was what Neve had been getting at when she’d asked Alba about being allo. Maybe it hadn’t simply been a way to rationalize her experience in the face of those who treated her differently because she was ace. She’d seemed surprised Alba had such a clear differentiation between sexual and romantic attraction. To her, when Neve looked at her, it felt like everything. Like she wanted to promise her whole life to Alba. Maybe from the outside, when you were only used to allo relationships, it looked like something else.

Either way, it didn’t look platonic.

Alba waved her hand as she heard the shower shut off. “Whatever. For now, at least, we’re just friends.”

“Sure you are.” She laughed. “Do yourself a favor and at least have the conversation. Or make a move. Pretty easy way to prompt the conversation, I suppose.”

“Never thought you’d be so invested in my love life.”

Zainab watched her, deadpan, before shaking her head. “What can I say, I like her. She deserves to be happy. Besides, against all odds, you’ve somehow gotten her to fall for you too. People who don’t want to be together don’t look at each other the way you two do.”

“Oh, that’s all it is? Just thinking about Neve?” Alba smirked.

“Ugh. Fine. I suppose I want you to be happy too. Even if you’re forcing me to compliment you when it’s my birthday and you should be complimenting me.”

Alba laughed. “I worry about you if you think that’s a compliment.”

“I know what a compliment is, thank you. I get plenty of them. Not from you, obviously, but plenty.”

Alba perked up, leaning on the table. “Was whoever was texting you complimenting you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you do. If you’re going to sit here and talk about how I look at Neve, you don’t get to avoid me talking about how you were looking at your phone.”

“You’re clearly in love, though. It’s different.”

Alba waved the accusation away. She didn’t need to get into that, especially not when Neve could reappear at any moment. “Any chance it was the new person from work?”

Zainab shot her a dangerous look right as they both heard the bathroom door open. “As it so happens, it was simply a colleague wishing me a happy birthday.”

“At midnight?”

They heard Neve enter Alba’s room, both knowing she’d rejoin them shortly.

Zainab leaned in closer. “You’re playing a very dangerous game when your girlfriend is about to be within earshot.”

“Not my girlfriend,” Alba said in a hurried, hushed voice before sitting upright.

Zainab’s gaze flicked to something over Alba’s shoulder and she smirked. “Yeah, right,” she muttered.

Alba turned around to find Neve walking towards them, freshly showered, and wearing one of Alba’s oversized college sweatshirts. She almost groaned—at the sight, at the situation, at Zainab’s annoying comments.

She really did want to be Neve’s girlfriend.