91
It was just after 7:00 PM when the doorbell rang.
Amanda stood in the open kitchen, pouring wine into three delicate crystal glasses.
The scent of roasted garlic and herbs from the charcuterie board lingered in the air, and warm, low instrumental music played from Ericka's sound system.
She looked up just in time to see Ericka walk to the door and open it.
Ava stood on the other side, dressed comfortably in a soft burgundy sweater tucked into black jeans, a bottle of red in her hand and a surprisingly humble smile on her face.
"Hey," she said, almost shyly.
Ericka didn't hesitate—she stepped forward and hugged her.
It wasn't a quick, polite hug either. It was slow and genuine, the kind that lingered just long enough to say: I see you. You're welcome here.
From the kitchen, Amanda paused, her gaze softening. She wasn't jealous. But she definitely noticed.
Ava stepped inside, her eyes flicking to Amanda. "Hey."
"Hey," Amanda returned with a smile. "You made it."
"I almost chickened out," Ava admitted with a shrug. "But then I thought, if I'm gonna be serious about this... about us, the team, everything—I need to show up."
Ericka closed the door behind her, her smile warm. "We're glad you did."
The three of them moved naturally into the living room, where the couch faced tall windows overlooking the skyline.
Amanda handed out the wine glasses, and they settled in—Amanda in the corner, legs curled under her; Ava in the middle, cautiously relaxed; and Ericka on the opposite end, elegant as ever with her glass balanced effortlessly in hand.
They clinked their glasses.
"To new chapters," Amanda said.
"To showing up," Ava added.
Ericka smirked. "To wine."
Laughter bubbled between them.
At first, the conversation stuck to safe topics—work, funny office moments, fashion week horror stories. But as the second glass of wine poured, something loosened.
Ava talked about her college days in Chicago, where she studied architecture before realizing her passion leaned more into creative direction.
Amanda shared how she used to sketch clothes in the margins of her science notebooks, back when she thought she'd end up in medicine.
And Ericka opened up about her grandmother, the woman who raised her and who taught her about structure and grace.
"You know," Ava said, swirling her wine, "I always thought you two were just... this impossible pair. Too perfect to crack. Like a power couple from a movie."
Amanda blinked. "We're a lot messier than we look."
Ericka added, "But we're honest. And that helps."
Ava nodded. "I'm learning that. I want to be honest too."
They sat for a while like that, the tension that once hovered between them slowly dissolving with every shared memory and quiet laugh. No games, no flirting, no unspoken pressure—just three women finding common ground.
By the time the third glass of wine was finished, Ava had kicked off her boots, Amanda had taken her hair down, and Ericka—surprisingly—had traded her usual crisp posture for relaxed ease, elbow resting on the back of the couch, fingers tapping softly against the glass.
Ericka watched Ava with a softness that surprised even her.
"You know..." she started slowly, swirling her glass, "if you're not in a rush to go home, you could stay over tonight."
Ava blinked. "Really?"
Amanda looked over at Ericka, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. "We've got a ton of movies. Wine. A guest room."
Ava looked between them and let out a laugh. "Well, when you put it like that..."
"Great," Ericka said, standing and already heading to the cabinet for another bottle. "Because we're opening this next one and watching Bridesmaids. No arguments."
Ava flopped back into the couch, laughing. "That movie is chaos. I love it."
By the time the movie started, they were all curled up in various throws, glasses refilled, shoes officially abandoned. They laughed at the ridiculous scenes, shouted quotes at the screen, and halfway through, Amanda got up to bring snacks that none of them actually needed but devoured anyway.
It was easy. Comfortable.
Not intense like the nights before. Not heavy with expectation.
Just three women slowly unraveling the space between strangers and something more.
And as Ava rested her head against the arm of the couch, wine glass held loosely in her hand and her laughter still echoing from the last scene, Ericka glanced over at Amanda.
Their eyes met. Amanda gave a tiny nod, like she was thinking it too.
This was the kind of night that changed things—quietly, steadily, beautifully.
They weren't rushing. But they were getting there.
_____________
The first sign that the night had fully passed wasn't the sunlight peeking through the blackout curtains—it was the soft groan Amanda let out as she stretched and felt something... or someone... resting against her.
Correction: two someones.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she blinked against the warm glow that had managed to sneak in around the edges of the curtains.
Her head was on Ericka's chest, her arm wrapped loosely around Ava's waist. Ericka's leg was tangled between both of theirs, one bare foot sticking out from beneath the cozy throw they must've all pulled over themselves at some point.
There were empty wine bottles on the coffee table. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn teetering on the edge. One of Amanda's earrings was on the floor.
And no one had moved for hours.
Ava stirred next, groaning into the pillow she'd stolen halfway through the second movie. Her eyes cracked open, squinting at the light, then landing on Amanda's arm still draped across her waist.
"Well," she murmured sleepily, "this is... new."
Amanda laughed softly. "Yeah, a little."
"Are you both alive?" Ericka's voice was low and hoarse with sleep, her hand brushing Amanda's back as she tried to sit up. "Because I swear that last bottle of wine nearly ended me."
"Same," Ava mumbled, shifting just enough to snuggle deeper into the blanket cocoon. "But like, what a way to go."
Ericka looked down at them both, one brow raised. "I invite you over for a civilized evening and I wake up in a cuddle pile with my assistant and my office rival."
Amanda snorted. "Oh please, you were the one who brought out the second bottle and said, 'What if we watched Magic Mike next?'"
Ava chuckled, voice still drowsy. "You did say that."
Ericka grinned, leaning her head back against the couch cushion. "Well, clearly I make excellent decisions when I'm tipsy."
The moment felt oddly... natural.
There was no rush to get up. No awkwardness. Just the warmth of bodies and shared laughter in the soft hush of morning. They lay like that for a while—quiet, content. Breathing in sync.
Eventually, Amanda sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her curls were a soft halo of chaos around her face. "I'm gonna make coffee," she offered.
"I love you," Ava groaned dramatically from under the blanket.
"I heard that," Ericka teased, still reclined. "Better make two extra cups."
Amanda padded into the kitchen, barefoot, grabbing mugs while the coffee machine hummed to life.
Back in the living room, Ava rolled onto her back and looked up at Ericka, who met her gaze calmly.
"No regrets?" Ava asked, her voice gentle.
Ericka studied her. "None."
Ava nodded. "Cool. Just... checking."
Amanda returned a moment later, carrying a tray with three mugs, a little jar of honey, and almond milk. "Coffee's here," she said as she passed them around.
Ava sat up slowly, stretching with a groan. "You're a goddess."
"Tell me something I don't know," Amanda teased, handing Ericka her cup last before sitting beside her and leaning in.
Ericka took the mug with a soft smile and held Amanda's gaze. "Thank you," she murmured, leaning forward to brush a kiss against Amanda's lips—slow, intentional, filled with sleepy gratitude. "For this... and the coffee."
Amanda's lips curled into a shy, satisfied smile. "Anytime."
From her spot on the other side of the couch, Ava narrowed her eyes in mock offense. "Uh, hello?" she said, dramatically pointing to her lips. "Where's mine?"
Ericka paused, then turned to Amanda—her expression soft but asking. A silent check-in.
Amanda held her gaze, then gave a small, warm nod. "Go ahead."
That was all Ericka needed.
She leaned over Amanda and caught Ava's lips in a kiss that was equally slow but laced with something playful—teasing, warm, and just a little indulgent. Ava hummed into it, one hand curling around Ericka's wrist as she kissed her back.
When they finally pulled away, Ava smirked. "That's more like it."
Amanda shook her head, laughing. "Y'all are too much."
They sipped quietly, legs still entangled, the blankets a mess around them.