Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Izzy
Izzy had expected nerves. She hadn’t expected to feel like she’d been struck by lightning.
She stood in the elevator, heart pounding in her throat, low in her belly, everywhere. Kiera was close — so close — her breath slightly uneven. The way she looked at Izzy, wide-eyed and flushed, sent a shiver straight down Izzy’s spine.
She’d written her room number on the napkin as a dare, both to Kiera and to herself. She hadn’t let herself believe Kiera would follow.
Izzy stepped back as the elevator door opened to her floor, her hands still tingling from where they’d gripped Kiera’s waist and motioned toward the open doors. “This is us.”
Kiera hesitated. Frozen.
It was slight, barely noticeable, but Izzy caught it instantly. She paused, blinking at Kiera, whose lips were still parted, her breath still uneven, but her eyes — her eyes had changed. A moment ago they’d been darkened with heady lust, and now they just looked wide in panic.
She stepped back toward Kiera, her hands slipping from her waist. “Hey,” she murmured, keeping her voice careful, controlled. “You okay?”
Kiera opened her mouth, then closed it again. She swallowed hard, shaking her head just slightly, and Izzy felt something crack inside her chest. The elevators doors shut, but they stayed put, neither daring to move.
“I… I don’t know,” Kiera admitted finally, her voice quieter now, like she hated having to say it out loud.
Izzy nodded, exhaling through her nose, willing herself to be okay with this, to not let the sharp pang of rejection sting more than it should. She shifted back further to give Kiera space.
Kiera pressed her hands over her face for a second, taking a deep breath, before letting them fall away. She looked… conflicted. “I want to,” Kiera admitted, and fuck , why did that make Izzy feel worse?
Izzy rubbed the back of her neck, forcing a small, crooked smile. “Wanting to and being ready are two different things,” she said, keeping her tone light, gentle. “Trust me, I’m familiar with the concept.”
Kiera let out a small, breathy laugh, but her eyes were still concerned. “I—” She shook her head again. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Izzy said immediately. She meant it. She did. But she couldn’t act like she wasn’t feeling disappointed and nervous for what this meant in the grand scheme of her and Kiera.
Kiera ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly.
“This… this is a lot,” Kiera said finally, looking down at her hands like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’m not usually even interested in sex like this. I’m not the kind of person who makes out in elevators or makes out at all. Like, I’m a mom. And I’ve never been with a woman.”
Izzy shook her head. “You being a mom only adds to how incredibly hot I think you are. And who you’ve been attracted to in the past has nothing to do with us. We have something, Kiera. I know you don’t want to deny it anymore, either.”
The elevator began moving down, and both of them fell into a tense silence.
She could push more. She wanted to push. But she wouldn’t. Not with Kiera. Not with this.
“Maybe I should go, and we could give this some space to get our heads on right,” Kiera murmured, reaching out to press the button for the lobby.
Izzy opened her mouth to say something — anything — but Kiera spoke first.
“But,” Kiera said tentatively, “I do think this is worth figuring out.”
Izzy blinked. The shift in her chest was immediate, warm and hopeful.
“Figuring out?” she repeated, eyebrows lifting.
Kiera gave a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah. I care about you.”
“As… friends?” Izzy asked.
Kiera shook her head. “Well, yeah, and… as more. I’m done pretending there isn’t something more here. I just also can’t deny we’ve got a lot to lose, and I’m a mess?—”
Izzy tilted her head, lips curving into a slow smile. “I don’t mind that you’re a mess.”
Kiera pursed her lips. “At least no one is denying that .”
Izzy grinned. “Don’t you think honesty is going to get us a bit further?”
Kiera exhaled, the sound almost a laugh, almost relief. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
As the elevator doors slid open to the lobby, Kiera reached to give Izzy’s hand a squeeze before stepping out.
It wasn’t the ending she’d imagined, but it wasn’t an ending at all. It was a pause. A breath. A door left cracked open.
Izzy slid into a booth at Sunny Side Up, a cozy brunch spot with mismatched mugs, checkered tablecloths, and the distinct smell of butter and coffee in the air. It was the kind of place Pete loved — no-nonsense, greasy, and perpetually packed with hungover twenty-somethings inhaling pancakes like their lives depended on it.
Pete had arrived before her and was nursing a cup of coffee, her arm draped over the back of the booth like she owned the place. She smirked as Izzy sat down. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t our very own heartbreaker. Should I be congratulating you or offering condolences?”
Izzy sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Jesus, Pete. Can we start with coffee before you start prying into my personal life?”
Pete snorted, waving down a server. “Coffee for my very grumpy friend, please.”
Izzy murmured a thanks, fidgeting with the sugar packet container. She could feel Pete watching her, studying her for some type of clue.
“So,” Pete started, stretching out the word. “Are you going to tell me what happened with Kiera last night, or do I have to guess? Because I love guessing, but I’d hate to embarrass you in public.”
Izzy leveled her with a look as the server brought coffees and cream. “You’re going to embarrass me in public no matter what, so let’s not pretend that would stop you.”
Pete grinned, unrepentant. “Valid.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Come on, though. Spill. You two had some serious tension happening at dinner. I figured something was bound to happen when you left at the same time.”
Izzy stared at her coffee, debating how much to say. She and Pete had been through so much together — college, bad relationships, even worse decisions — but this? This felt too tender and new and unknown.
Pete’s smirk faded slightly. “Okay, now I’m actually a little concerned. Did something bad happen?”
Izzy let out a slow breath. “I kissed her.”
Pete didn’t react right away, just nodded like she was waiting for the rest.
Izzy took a long sip from her mug. “And it was good. Really good.” She hesitated, then added, “But then it wasn’t.”
Pete tilted her head, her expression shifting from amused to concerned in an instant. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It was like… she wanted it. I felt that she wanted it. And then, all of a sudden, she didn’t. She seemed to panic, and I…” Izzy exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “I worry that I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I was too into it to realize that she wasn’t ready for that yet.”
Pete frowned, her brows drawing together. “Did she say that?”
“Kind of,” Izzy admitted. “But she looked… god, I don’t know. Torn? Upset? Like she wasn’t sure what she was doing?”
Pete let out a breath, tapping her fingers against the table. “Did she ask you to stop?”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Izzy said, shaking her head. “It was before we even got to my room.”
Pete sat back, considering her. “I don’t think you would have crossed a line if you were aware of that boundary. You’re not that kind of person.”
Izzy huffed an awkward laugh. “I just feel weird about it. I knew she wasn’t ready, and I shouldn’t have kissed her, but we were in the bar and… I think I just read into her flirting too much, maybe?”
Pete’s eyes softened. “Izzy.” She reached across the table, tapping her knuckles against Izzy’s wrist. “If Kiera wasn’t ready, that’s on her to communicate with you. If she’s figuring things out, she needs to be the one to say that. You can’t be a mind reader.”
Izzy swallowed, nodding, but the heaviness of the night before still sat on her shoulders. “I just…” She exhaled. “We talked about honesty, and I’m already reading into what she’s not saying, and I’m worried if I’m truly honest with her, I’m going to scare her off.”
Pete raised an eyebrow. “Look at me. I never told Danica explicitly how I felt, and we wasted so much time not being together just because we were both stubborn idiots. Don’t make my same mistakes.”
Izzy groaned, rubbing her temples. “I hate when you’re right.”
Pete grinned. “I know. It’s one of my many gifts.” She paused, tilting her head. “Look, I don’t know where Kiera’s head is at, but I do know she’s a grown-ass woman who needs to use her words. You’re not responsible to figure out for her what she is feeling.”
Izzy took a deep breath, letting Pete’s words sink in. She wasn’t sure if she believed them yet but hearing them out loud made her feel just a little bit lighter.
The server arrived with their food, and Pete immediately stole a bite of Izzy’s hash browns, grinning as she did it. “So. Are we done with the self-loathing? Because I’d like to enjoy my eggs without you brooding at me like a sad Victorian widow.”
Izzy rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stifle her smile as she reached for a bite of Pete’s pancake. “You’re insufferable.”
Pete grinned. “And yet, you love me.”
Izzy shook her head. Maybe Pete was right, but that didn’t make the next step clearer. She worried about reaching out first, or responding too quickly, or acting too eager. “Hey, can you not tell Maggie yet? I know there’s no chance of Danica not knowing, but I want to tell Meddling Maggie myself.”
Pete nodded, silently chewing.
They ate in companionable quiet until Izzy stabbed at the remains of her Eggs Benedict. Across from her, Pete stretched back in the booth, fingers drumming idly on the table, her coffee cup pushed to the side.
“You ready to talk about work?” Pete finally asked, tipping her head as she studied Izzy.
“Yeah, of course.” Izzy set her fork down and leaned back, crossing her arms. “You mentioned partnerships yesterday. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
“What do you think?”
Izzy paused, taking a long sip of her coffee. “I think you’re the brains and I’m the boots on the ground. So, you tell me what direction to go in and I’ll go.”
“I want to hear what direction you think we need to go in.” Pete watched her with skepticism.
“I have no idea.” She exhaled, staring at the salt shaker like it had answers.
“Come on, I know that’s not true.”
“You probably have better ideas, Pete,” Izzy confessed, shifting in the booth.
Pete’s brow furrowed, and for once, she didn’t jump in with a joke. “Do you think I hired you out of pity or something?”
Izzy winced. “Not pity. But… I don’t know. Maybe because we’re friends?”
Pete snorted. “Bullshit. You think I’d let anyone into my business just because we’re friends? If that was the case, Maggie would be our head of PR, and Danica would be performing impromptu physicals in the break room.”
Izzy let out a laugh, despite herself. “That’s horrifying.”
“Exactly.” Pete shook her head. “Listen, you have a good eye for people. You’re great at figuring out what people need. You know how to connect. That’s not something you can fake.” She tapped the table with her index finger. “And you’re fucking good at it, Iz.”
Izzy stared at her for a moment, unsure what to say.
Pete took another sip of her now-cold coffee, then set the cup down with a thud. “You’ve been pretty passive, though. You’re a part of Second Star, but you’re still acting like an outsider looking in. You wait for me to tell you what to do instead of taking the initiative. That’s gotta change.”
Izzy frowned. “I don’t want to step on your toes. It’s your vision.”
Pete leaned forward, leveling her with a look. “It was my vision, but you’re part of it now, so start acting like it.” She took a beat before adding, “So, what do you think? About Denver, about expansion, about where we should go next?”
Izzy blinked, caught off guard by Pete’s directness. Pete wasn’t giving her an out.
She hesitated, but then she thought about the last few months — the meetings, the outreach, all the times she’d had ideas and stifled them, too nervous to voice her opinion.
“I think…” She exhaled, choosing her words carefully. “I think to succeed in the states and especially in Denver, we need to focus more on long-term engagement. We’re great at funding, at getting kids into programs, but we don’t track what happens after that. Are they sticking with it? Are they growing? Are we actually making an impact, or just throwing money at things? That’s the kind of data that will help grow our partnerships here. That is the kind of data that builds trust.”
Pete’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Now that is what I want to hear.”
Izzy sat a little straighter.
Pete leaned back, looking satisfied. “So. How do we do that?”
Izzy took a sip of her coffee, rolling her shoulders back. “I have a few ideas. We need a mentorship program,” she said, the words forming as she spoke. “We’re good at funding activities, but if we want these programs to succeed beyond just funding, we need a way to connect the kids to people who can guide them. Not just teachers and coaches — actual mentors who’ve been through it.”
Pete nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “You mean like former participants?”
“Yeah, that could work in places where similar programs already exist,” Izzy said, warming to the idea. “In Denver that could mean people in the industries we’re supporting — artists, musicians, athletes. We always talk about access being the biggest barrier, but what about belonging ? These kids need to see themselves in the spaces we’re opening up for them.”
Pete leaned back in her chair, nodding. “That’s gonna take work. But you’re right — we can’t just be a revolving door. We’ve gotta be a foundation.”
Izzy felt a small thrill of validation, her nerves settling. “Exactly. And I’d include training the mentors and giving them check-ins to ensure it’s going in the right direction. We don’t want mentors who meet these kids once and fall off the face of the earth, you know? We have to make sure we’re starting with a solid foundation, or we’re never going to differentiate ourselves from something like Boys & Girls Club, who are already doing exceptional work.”
Pete bit her lip, considering. “That all makes total sense…” She drummed her fingers against the table, thoughtful. “Alright. Let’s start with the mentorship thing. We can run a pilot in Denver. If it works, we expand it.”
Izzy nodded eagerly.
“Oh, by the way,” Pete said, waving down their server for the check. “We should talk about a longer term hotel or rental, because you’re leading this.”
Izzy blinked. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me,” Pete said breezily, handing her card to the server. “You’re the one who came up with it, you’re the one who’s gonna make it happen.”
Izzy blinked in shock. “I… Pete, I don’t even know where to start.”
Pete shrugged. “You’ll figure it out.” She moved to put on her light jacket.
Izzy sat there for a moment, still processing, as Pete stood up and clapped her on the back. “Come on, boss babe. We’ve got work to do.”
The city outside her hotel room window was quiet in that late-night way that always made Izzy feel a little untethered, like everyone else had found their place to land, and she was still hovering just above the ground.
The day had been long, full of discussions and planning, emails piling up faster than she could answer them, but it wasn’t work that kept her awake now. It was Kiera.
It was Kiera, in her head. Again.
In the soft, pale blue glow of her phone screen, Izzy sat cross-legged on her bed. Kiera's name was at the top of their most recent text message thread. The last message hung there between them, unanswered for the last few moments.
Kiera
Can I call you?
Izzy stared at it. Her heart beat faster, like every second she hesitated, she was more likely to miss her moment.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she hit call .
It rang once. Twice.
“Hey.” Kiera’s voice was soft. A little breathless, like she’d been waiting.
“Hey,” Izzy replied, her voice low, steady. She swallowed hard. “Everything okay? You’re up late.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” There was a pause, long enough that Izzy almost said something. But then Kiera’s voice came back, quieter this time. “I keep thinking about you.”
Izzy leaned back against her headboard, phone pressed tighter to her ear. “Yeah?”
She was rewarded with a breathy laugh and “yes” from Kiera, then, “I… I keep thinking about that kiss.”
Relief flooded over Izzy. She hadn’t misread the situation the night before — not entirely, not in the way she’d feared. All day she’d been stuck in her own head, replaying the night before on a loop, second-guessing every playful flirtation. She’d convinced herself she’d pushed too far, moved too fast, that maybe Kiera had only kissed her because it had been late and emotional and impulsive after their game in the bar. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either,” Izzy admitted, voice quiet. “I just want you to know that I don’t ever want to pressure you. And that I just think you’re so… Is it too much to say sexy? Is that okay?”
The sound of Kiera’s breath caught on the other end of the line. “I can’t think of the last time anyone thought I was sexy.”
Izzy swallowed. She wanted to strangle Kiera’s ex-husband for ever letting Kiera think she wasn’t an absolute goddess. “Well, I happen to think you’re very sexy.”
A soft laugh. “Well, the feeling is very mutual.”
“ Very glad to hear it,” Izzy teased.
Another soft laugh. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t stop thinking about yesterday. I’m… this is all new to me. I spend most days feeling entirely invisible,” Kiera said.
Izzy smiled to herself. “Stop apologizing, first of all. You’re not invisible to me. I see you.”
There was silence. A beat too long. And then Kiera whispered, “I wanted you, too. Want. Present tense.”
A nervous flutter in Izzy’s stomach turned into a full-blown somersault. “I want you, too.”
Kiera was quiet for a moment, though Izzy could still hear her quiet movements and breaths on the line.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about that’s keeping you awake,” Izzy said, her voice softening. If Kiera was so worried she wasn’t able to sleep, Izzy wanted to reassure her.
Kiera’s breath hitched again. “You. Your hands on me. How it felt when you pulled me close in the elevator. Izzy…” She broke off with a quiet moan.
Oh.
Oh .
She just thought Kiera was letting herself be vulnerable again, letting the walls fall for a second. Izzy would’ve taken that. Happily. It wasn’t until Kiera’s breath caught, sharp and uneven, that Izzy felt the shift. Something in her tone, her rhythm, the way she exhaled Izzy’s name like it meant something — that’s when it hit her. This wasn’t just closeness. This was want. This was Kiera reaching for her in a way Izzy had barely let herself hope for.
Izzy exhaled slowly. She was ready. “Tell me what you want, Kiera.”
There was nothing but the sound of their breathing on the line for a moment.
“I want to feel you again,” Kiera whispered, breathless and open. “I want to feel you dig your fingers into my hips again. I want… I want to remember what it felt like when you kissed me. Like I was the only thing you wanted.”
“You are.”
“Izzy.”
And just like that, the tension between them snapped into something sharp and undeniable, something sparking, electric and real.
The way Kiera whispered her name, Izzy wanted every second of it. “Close your eyes,” Izzy said, her voice low and sure.
The line was quiet for a heartbeat, and then Kiera’s voice came through, barely a whisper, but steady. “Okay.”
Izzy steadied her own breath as she settled deeper into the bed, letting the quiet stretch between them — not uncomfortable, but charged with something far more intimate. Every ounce of hesitation from earlier had slipped away, leaving behind a palpable connection.
“Tell me where your hand is,” Izzy murmured.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. She could hear the sound of Kiera’s breath, a soft rustle like she was shifting in bed.
“I’m sliding it under the band of my underwear,” Kiera whispered.
“Just let your hand drift down… feel how warm you are. Find that little spot that makes you gasp and touch it like you’d want me to. Slow. Gentle,” Izzy said softly, her voice warm and encouraging.
An unsteady breath from the other end of the line. Izzy could practically picture her: lying in bed, cheeks flushed, hands trembling slightly against her smooth, fair skin. Vulnerable. Trusting.
“Izzy,” Kiera whispered, but her tone had shifted into something more ragged.
Izzy’s breath caught, her own skin hot and electric. “Good,” Izzy murmured, letting her own hand trail lightly over her thigh, her body buzzing with anticipation. “What are you thinking about?”
The sharp inhale on the other end of the line was like a spark, like a fuse catching flame.
“I’m thinking about you,” Kiera whispered, her words spilling out like a confession. “About the way your hands felt on my breasts. And your mouth on my skin. The way you were so desperate for me in the kitchen at the beach house… in the elevator…”
Izzy squeezed her eyes shut, the memory hitting her like a wave — Kiera’s body pressed against hers, the heat of her breath, the softness of her mouth yielding beneath her own. She let out a low, quivering exhale.
“God, Kiera,” Izzy rasped. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to keep going. I wanted to feel every inch of you under me, hear you fall apart for me.”
Another breath from Kiera, wavering and uneven. “I wanted that too. I still want it.”
Izzy swallowed hard. “Tell me how it feels right now. I want to imagine you.”
Kiera didn’t answer right away, but then her voice came back, soft but certain. “Warm. I’m so wet. My heart is pounding. I keep thinking about the way you bite my lower lip when you kiss me, how solid you feel against me.”
“I wish I was there,” Izzy admitted, her fingers sliding through her own wetness, her forearm tensing as she began slow circles. “I’d show you just how much I want you. I want to take my time with you.”
Kiera made a soft, involuntary sound — somewhere between a gasp and a whimper — and Izzy’s stomach tightened in response.
“Izzy,” Kiera breathed, voice strained with need. “God, I wish you were here, too.”
“I am,” Izzy breathed. “And I want this to feel good for you. However that looks. Just be in it.”
There was a long pause, just the sound of breathing — Kiera’s unsteady and quick, Izzy’s low and tight in her chest. The honesty of Kiera’s voice and the way she let herself ask for more hit Izzy harder than anything else could have. It was quiet, but it undid her completely.
“Kiera…” Izzy’s voice came out rougher than she meant it to. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to prove anything. Just let yourself feel good. That’s all I want.”
A soft sound followed, almost a whimper, and then Kiera said, barely audible, “Tell me what you’d be doing if you were here.”
Izzy exhaled slowly, her body already humming. She let the image fill her mind, let herself want without restraint, let herself imagine Kiera — flushed, open, and close enough to touch.
“I’d run my fingers along your thighs,” Izzy said, voice quiet and certain. “Not too fast. Just enough to tease, to let you know I’m not in any rush.”
She heard the way Kiera’s breath caught, a slight hitch that only made Izzy sink deeper into the feeling.
“I’d kiss your stomach,” she said, her tone thick with warmth, “soft and slow, until I felt you trembling. I’d glide my tongue along the inside of your thighs, feel you arch into me.”
Another pause, sharper this time — like Kiera was trying not to make a sound but couldn’t hold it back.
“I’d look up at you,” Izzy went on, quieter now. “Just to see your face when I finally touched you. I’d make you wait for it, just a little longer, until you asked for more.”
A sharp inhale on the other end of the line, followed by a breathless whisper: “Izzy…”
Izzy closed her eyes. “I’ve got you,” she said softly. “Just feel it.”
Kiera let out a sharp, stuttering breath.
“Izzy…” Kiera’s voice cracked, rough with need. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
Izzy’s breath hitched. “Good,” she said, low and warm. “That’s the idea.”
There was a pause. A breath. Then Kiera spoke again, quieter now. “I wish it was your hand. Your fingers. I keep pretending it is.”
The admission hit Izzy hard, heat blooming under her skin. “Me too,” she said, voice softer now. “If I were there, I’d take my time. I’d learn exactly what you like and give it to you until you can't think straight.”
A shaky exhale came through the phone. Izzy could hear how close Kiera was, how much she was holding onto every word.
“You’re doing so well,” Izzy murmured. “Just keep going. Let it build.”
She could hear it in Kiera’s breathing now, faster, uneven. It made something deep in Izzy tighten.
“You sound amazing right now,” she said, her voice dipping lower. “I wish I could see your face, see how good it feels. I want you to keep going. Don’t stop.” Another soft, broken sound. Izzy’s fingers curled tighter around the phone. “Kiera,” she said, her voice steady, coaxing. “Are you close?”
A gasp. Breathless. “Yeah.”
Izzy closed her eyes. “Then come for me,” she said. “Let yourself take it. I’m right here.”
Kiera’s breath stuttered — shallow, uneven — then a hitched gasp slipped through the line. Izzy felt it in her gut. It wasn’t just release. It was more like something Kiera had been holding in for too long, finally breaking loose.
Izzy closed her eyes as her own orgasm swept over her, quiet and consuming, like everything outside her body had dropped away.
The line went still, just the sound of Kiera breathing — each inhale a little deeper than the last. When she finally spoke, her voice was wrecked, but calm. “Oh my god, that was so hot.”
Izzy let out a soft laugh, breath catching on the tail end of it. “Yeah. It really was.”
Kiera’s voice came again, quiet, more certain this time. “Iz?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay on the phone? Just until I fall asleep?”
Izzy’s throat tightened with emotion. She turned onto her side, holding the phone a little closer. “Yeah. I’m here.”
And that was it. No big declaration. No need to fill the space. Just two steady heartbeats on either end of the line, settling into quiet together.
For once, silence didn’t feel like absence. It felt like enough. It felt like a shift — like they’d stepped over an invisible line together and neither of them wanted to go back.