Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
Kiera
Kiera sat at the dining table, laptop open, scrolling through job listings she wasn’t even sure she needed anymore. The offer in Nebraska sat quietly in her inbox — safe, expected, easy to fall back on. But something in her couldn’t stop looking. When a new email notification blinked across the top of her screen, her breath caught.
Subject: Interview Invitation
A middle school near the girls’ elementary school. She stared at the screen, heart thudding. This wasn’t just another listing — it was a chance to stay. To build something real here. To stop feeling like she was camped out in someone else’s life, waiting for her own to restart.
“Mom?”
Eliza’s voice startled her. Kiera turned to find both girls standing in the doorway, dirt smudged across their faces and flower crowns crooked on their heads. Quinn’s tiny hands were caked in mud, clutching a small plastic chicken figurine like it was treasure.
“Grandma and Grandpa said we could name the new ducks!” Eliza announced proudly.
The words took a second to land. “ Ducks?"
Eliza nodded furiously, adjusting her flower crown. “I'm going to name mine Francine."
Quinn beamed. “Mine’s called Captain Quackington.”
Kiera couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out. “Perfect duck names."
Before she could say more, the front door creaked open and her mom stepped into the room with her dad in tow. “Surprise!” her mom said cheerfully. “We figured a few new additions to the coop would keep the girls busy.”
“Ducks?” Kiera repeated, still processing the new information. "You're really just leaning into the fowl play over here.”
Her dad winked, grinning. “That was good.”
“Thanks, I learned the dad jokes from the best of them,” Kiera said, shooing the girls back outside. “But let’s talk ducks.”
“Let’s not,” her dad added, shooing the girls back outside as her mom slid into a seat beside her.
Her mom dug a letter out of her gardening apron. “I accidentally opened this. It’s an offer from a school in Nebraska. Wanna talk, kiddo?”
Kiera didn’t reach for the letter. She just stared at it like it might say something new if she waited long enough.
Her dad leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossed. “We figured it was time to ask what you’re really thinking.”
Kiera let out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s a good offer.”
Her mom sat down across from her, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes steady. “No one’s saying it isn’t.”
Kiera closed the laptop slowly, like that might help quiet the noise in her head. “It’s safe. It’s a real job, in a district I did my student-teaching in. I could have the girls back in their old schools. I’d know the grocery stores, the weather. My way around.”
“But?” her dad asked.
She swallowed. “But I keep wondering if going back would just be… rewinding. Not moving forward. And I don’t know what forward even looks like yet.”
The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, just full.
Her mom nodded. “You’ve been working so hard to hold everything together — the girls, your routines, this job search. We’re happy to help where we can, but you’re stubborn like your Aunt Jade. You don’t have to prove anything to us. We know you can make either choice work. That’s not the question.”
Kiera glanced toward the back door, where Quinn and Eliza were still running in circles in the yard, yelling about ducks. Her heart ached a little — for them, for the life she was trying to shape, for the version of herself she had really started to like.
Her dad’s voice was quieter now. “Just don’t go back to something that didn’t serve you just because it’s easier to explain than staying here.”
That made her look up.
He shrugged. “We’ve been watching you soften. Not fall apart — soften. And that’s not a bad thing.”
Kiera blinked hard, pressing her fingertips to the edge of the table.
“Tonya says you’re nearly at the end of your metamorphosis,” her mom said with the nonchalance of a remark about good weather.
Kiera’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Tonya…”
“You know, Tonya. My spiritual guide,” her mom said, and Kiera took a deep breath.
“How’d Tonya know about the goo phase?” Kiera said, tilting her head.
“The what?” Her dad asked, opening a few drawers before finding whatever he was looking for. He slid a slim manila envelope across the table. “Jade wanted us to give you this, too.”
Kiera frowned, hesitating before pulling the flap open. Inside was a lease agreement — already signed — for a furnished townhouse near the girl’s school. A key was paperclipped to the top. Her stomach flipped. “She — what is this?”
Her mom gave a small shrug. “She wants to spend more time here in Denver but figured you could crash there with the girls until you land on your feet. It’s already paid through the end of the year.”
Kiera stared at the document, throat tightening. “I can’t accept this.”
Her dad snorted. “Then don’t tell her that. You think she asks for permission? Have you ever tried telling Jade no? It’s impossible.”
“She said if you so much as try to thank her, she’ll pretend she doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” her mom added, standing to ready a cup of tea as if this wasn’t absurd.
Kiera ran a hand through her hair, overwhelmed. “It’s too much. I don’t even know if I’m going to get a job. It’s just way too much.”
“Jade has a different definition of ‘too much’ than the rest of us,” her dad said. “She loves you. She’s always had a soft spot for the girls. And she’s not going to let you make a decision based on where you can crash rent-free.”
Kiera looked back down at the lease. Her name was already written in neat, looping script at the top. The key felt small and heavy in her palm.
Her mom reached out, resting a hand on hers. “You don’t have to use it. But it’s there if you need it. You’re allowed to choose something for yourself.”
Kiera didn’t say anything, but she didn’t hand the key back either.
The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the two-story townhouse, casting shadows across the hardwood floors. It was small — cozy, as her mom had phrased it. She’d even lit her favorite candle, the scent of citrus and greenery filled the room, making it feel like it could one day be hers.
Her parents had offered to keep the girls for the night to let her stay over at the townhouse and get her bearings — to make an “informed” decision as they’d worded it. She had spent the first few hours of the day putting clean linens on the bed, cleaning, and shifting the couch in the living room into a configuration she liked better.
Kiera stood in the middle of it all, feeling the surrealness of starting over settle around her shoulders. It wasn’t the sprawling family home she’d once shared with Alex. There was no suburban backyard or impressive foyer. It also wasn’t her childhood home, so tied to her parents and who she’d been that she’d never had the space to figure out a different version of herself there. But this townhouse felt like freedom — a breath of fresh air after months of suffocating uncertainty.
A knock at the door snapped her from her thoughts.
Kiera froze at the knock, her heart stuttering. She wasn’t expecting anyone — the only possibility would be her parents or Aunt Jade, and neither seemed likely. She crossed the room slowly, brushing crumbs off her sweatshirt, still barefoot, still unsure if she even would be staying here. When she opened the door and saw Izzy standing there, everything inside her tilted.
For a second, she couldn’t speak. Her brain needed time to catch up to what her eyes already knew. Izzy — hair wind-tousled, cheeks pink, looking both sure of herself and completely out of breath — stood with one hand in her pocket and the other loosely holding something that looked like takeout. Like it was just any other afternoon.
Kiera’s stomach flipped. Not from nerves exactly — more like recognition. Like something she’d been holding back finally surged forward, uninvited and undeniable. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Izzy’s face until it was right in front of her. Now that it was, she had no idea what to do with all the feelings rushing in at once.
“Hi,” Izzy said, her smile shy.
“Hi,” Kiera said, though she was unable to hide her confusion.
“I stopped by your house, but your parents gave me this address,” Izzy said. “I grabbed some food on my way over.”
Kiera raised a brow. “What kind of food?”
“Now I know where Eliza gets her intensity from,” Izzy joked. “It’s Thai. I got you drunken noodles.”
Kiera stepped back. “Well, lucky for you, drunken noodles is the password.”
Izzy grinned, looking around as she crossed the threshold into the entry, pausing in the kitchen. “So, um, what is this place? Did your parents’ kombucha operation finally get off the ground and you're hiding in this safe house from a rival booch gang?”
Kiera couldn’t help herself. She moved, wrapping her arms around Izzy in a hug bordering on strangulation. She heard the rustle of Izzy setting the takeout down on the kitchen counter behind her, and then Izzy’s hands were on her back, in her hair, reassuring. Here. Izzy was here.
“I missed you,” Kiera whispered.
“I missed you, too,” Izzy said with a small laugh. “Should we, um, talk or maybe we could just silently eat this food, or…”
Kiera leaned back, looking into Izzy’s face.
Izzy's eyes were dark, her gaze drifting to Kiera's mouth. Kiera’s breath caught, her heart thudding against her ribs. The quiet stretched out, charged with possibility. She reached out slowly, her fingers brushing against Izzy’s hand. Izzy didn’t pull away — if anything, she leaned in, just enough to close the space.
Kiera swallowed, scanning Izzy’s face for any flicker of hesitation. When she found none, she leaned forward and kissed her. It was careful, tentative — a question more than an answer. Izzy let out a soft, uneven breath against her lips, and Kiera felt her nerves melt into something warmer, steadier.
The room faded around them, like everything outside this moment had gone quiet. Izzy looked up at her, eyes wide and unreadable. Neither of them moved. Time felt suspended, held by the thread of what they weren’t saying yet.
Kiera stepped in. “I… I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to try,” she whispered, voice low, shaking just enough to betray how much this mattered. “I just — God, Izzy, I want you so fucking bad.”
Izzy’s lips parted like she might respond, but nothing came out. Kiera didn’t wait. She lifted a hand to Izzy’s jaw, her fingers trembling as she leaned in and kissed her again — deeper this time, with every ounce of emotion she hadn’t said out loud.
Izzy’s hands found her waist, pulling her close until their bodies met. The warmth of Izzy settled into Kiera’s skin, into her chest, everywhere. Kiera pressed in, her breath catching as Izzy’s thigh slipped between hers, slow and deliberate. Her whole body sparked at the contact — a jolt of heat rolling through her, sharp and sweet.
The counter dug into her back, but she barely noticed. Izzy’s mouth was on hers again, surer now, and Kiera kissed her back like she couldn’t help it. Her fingers slid into Izzy’s hair, holding tight, grounding herself in the dizzying rush of it all.
She moved against her, chasing that friction, that closeness, her breath growing more uneven with every second. Izzy exhaled roughly, her grip tightening at Kiera’s waist, guiding her closer, deeper into the kiss. Everything else — the silence of the house, the unanswered questions, the job offer sitting in her inbox — disappeared.
Hands roamed — over ribs, up backs, gripping hips. Kiera’s breath stuttered as Izzy’s teeth grazed her lower lip. She responded without thinking, chasing that edge, deepening the kiss until her knees nearly gave out. Every touch felt amplified, drawn tight with want.
She moved against Izzy’s thigh again, a low sound catching in her throat. Izzy’s hand slipped beneath her sweatshirt, fingers brushing hot against her skin, and Kiera gasped into her mouth.
And then a beat later she pulled back, chest rising and falling, lips still parted. "Wait," she said, breathless but suddenly remembering the very real world around them. Izzy’s eyes went wide with worry. "We should… put the noodles in the fridge. Before we get distracted, and it goes bad.”
Izzy blinked, still dazed, and then broke into a laugh, resting her forehead against Kiera’s shoulder. “Right. Priorities.” She stepped back to open the fridge and unceremoniously tossed the bag inside.
“How dare you treat my noodles like that,” Kiera joked.
Izzy grinned, smirking. “How can I make it up to you?”
“I mean, I have a few ideas,” Kiera said, reaching for Izzy again. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, tugging Izzy closer as she dropped her voice. “Though all of them end with us in bed, if I’m being honest.”
“I’m a fan of honesty.” Izzy’s hand slid up, fingers threading through Kiera’s hair, voice husky in the quiet. “Are you sure?”
Kiera nodded, voice soft but certain. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’m ready.”
As if those words were all she needed, Izzy’s lips crashed against Kiera’s, unraveling anything left of the careful restraint they’d been holding onto all this time. Kiera barely had a moment to gasp before Izzy’s hands gripped her waist, strong and sure, lifting her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. She clutched Izzy’s shoulders as a startled gasp slipped from her lips.
“Holy shit,” Kiera whispered in awe, staring down at Izzy.
Izzy stood between Kiera’s legs, hands sliding slowly up her thighs. “Surprised?” she murmured against her throat, voice teasing, but her eyes had gone dark, hooded with intent.
Kiera swallowed hard, heart hammering as she tilted her chin up, daring, wanting. “A little,” she admitted, breathless. “But I like it.”
Izzy’s hands drifted up her sides, slow and warm, fingertips skimming skin before finding the hem of Kiera’s sweatshirt. She paused, her gaze holding steady — one last check-in. Kiera gave a barely-there nod.
Izzy tugged the sweatshirt up and over Kiera’s head in one fluid motion, her glasses disappearing with it. Kiera shivered — not from the air, but from the look Izzy gave her. Like she was seeing all of her and didn’t want to look away.
Izzy’s palms traced her sides, thumbs brushing beneath her ribs, and Kiera’s pulse skipped. Her lips found Kiera’s collarbone, the edge of her plain, thin bra, trailing down with soft, careful grazes of teeth.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Izzy murmured, voice rough at the edges.
The words punched right through her. When was the last time someone had looked at her like this — said it like they meant it? Izzy’s mouth was on her again, lips brushing down, tongue smoothing over each place her teeth had teased.
Kiera melted into it, her whole body alive to every movement, every breath. Her fingers slid into Izzy’s hair, holding on.
Izzy’s hands slipped lower, finding the button of Kiera’s shorts. She paused, her breath warm against Kiera’s stomach. “Still good?”
“Yes,” Kiera breathed, arching into her. “Yes.”
Izzy’s smirk was slow and knowing as she eased the shorts and underwear down, fingertips dragging softly along her thighs. She dropped a kiss to the inside of one knee, then another, higher, slower. Kiera trembled, her breath uneven, the electric energy in her body building.
“Izzy,” she exhaled, her voice rough. Her whole body drawn tight with anticipation, every nerve lit and reaching. She leaned back against the cabinet, head tipped, eyes half-lidded as Izzy kissed her way up. Hands firm at her thighs, parting her gently, reverently.
Izzy glanced up, eyes steady. “You’re going to be so fucking beautiful when you come for me,” she murmured. And before Kiera could answer, before she could even catch her breath, Izzy’s mouth was on her.
The moan that ripped from Kiera’s throat was almost embarrassingly loud, instinctive. Her back arched as sensation overtook her. Her hands reached blindly — Izzy’s shoulders, the counter edge, anything to hold on to. Izzy didn’t rush. She moved with slow, devastating control, taking her apart piece by piece. Every breath, every sound Kiera made, seemed to draw Izzy deeper.
Kiera had never been touched like this — not with such attention, such hunger. With Izzy’s mouth on her, she came undone. Izzy’s hands mapped her skin, grounding her, worshiping her, making her feel like she was the only thing that mattered.
When Izzy pressed two fingers inside her, Kiera let go. She cried out, hips jerking, body trembling under the rising wave. The pleasure was sharp, full, dizzying. It swallowed her whole.
She came with Izzy’s name on her lips, her fingers tangled in blonde hair, pulling her close as the rhythm crested and broke. Izzy didn’t stop — just eased her through it, her mouth pressing gentle kisses along Kiera’s thighs as she shuddered and sagged against the cabinets.
Kiera’s breath came in shallow pulls, her chest rising and falling in sync with the thrum still moving through her limbs. When Izzy finally lifted her head, her lips were kiss-swollen, her expression soft and impossibly smug.
Kiera let out a breathless laugh, dazed and entirely undone. She reached down, threading her fingers through Izzy’s hair, pulling her up into a kiss that was slow and deep — full of an emotion Kiera didn’t want to name just yet. She could taste herself on Izzy’s mouth, something she realized she’d never done before. It was intoxicating — the way Izzy kissed, the way she moved, the way her hands skimmed along Kiera’s skin, warm and knowing. Every touch sent a jolt through her, a reminder that this was real, that this was happening.
“We should go upstairs,” Kiera murmured against Izzy’s lips, her voice shaky, her fingers gripping at Izzy’s hips like she needed to keep herself steady.
Izzy let out a breathy laugh, resting her forehead against Kiera’s for a beat. They didn’t move right away. The suggestion hung in the air, unhurried.
Eventually, they stumbled toward the stairs, hands exploring, mouths finding each other again and again in kisses that burned slow and hot. Kiera had never been kissed with this kind of intensity — not just wanting but knowing. Her body pulsed with need, her skin flushed with it. She wasn’t shy about being naked against Izzy’s clothed body, a first for her.
They only made it a few steps before Izzy groaned against her mouth, pulling back just enough to say, “If we don’t stop kissing, we’re not making it to the bedroom.”
Kiera grinned and pressed her hands to Izzy’s chest, gently pushing her down onto a step, straddling her hips without hesitation. “Then we won’t make it.”
She kissed Izzy’s jaw, then down her neck, taking her time as her fingers tugged at the hem of Izzy’s shirt. Her mouth brushed lower, and Izzy’s breath came rough and fast, her skin warming under Kiera’s touch.
“I think this is the perfect place,” Kiera whispered, her voice low, lips grazing the hollow of Izzy’s throat, “to take this off you.”
There was no doubt in her movements. No second-guessing. She explored Izzy’s body with a hunger she didn’t try to hide. Not worried about doing it right. Just letting herself want, and take, and feel.
“I always knew you’d be trouble,” Izzy teased.
Kiera slid her hands beneath Izzy’s shirt, pushing it up. "You like trouble," she teased, her voice husky as she peeled the fabric up and over Izzy’s head, tossing it somewhere behind them.
“I like you ,” Izzy said, her gaze steady.
Kiera smiled. The sight of Izzy beneath her, out of breath and flushed, sent a wave of want through her so strong it shocked her. She leaned down to brush her lips over Izzy’s collarbone. “You are like, unfairly attractive,” she whispered against Izzy’s skin.
She could feel Izzy’s silent laugh as she kissed down Izzy’s sternum, her lips brushing the warm skin there, trailing lower, lower, feeling every shift of Izzy’s body beneath her as she navigated down a step or two, reveling in every small sound she made. It was overwhelming, the taste of her, the softness of her skin, the way she arched under Kiera’s touch.
She had never wanted someone like this before, never felt such a deep pull to touch, to taste, to learn someone so intimately. She kissed just below Izzy’s navel, exhaling slowly, savoring the way Izzy arched beneath her. Then, with aching slowness, she tugged Izzy’s shorts and underwear down, fingertips tracing every inch of newly exposed skin.
When she finally dipped her tongue between Izzy’s thighs, she felt Izzy exhale a shuddering breath, felt Izzy’s fingers tighten in her hair. Kiera took her time, reveling in the way Izzy melted beneath her touch, the way Izzy tasted like warmth and earth and salt. She couldn’t get enough. She was desperate to experience it all. The uneven rise and fall of Izzy’s chest, the soft gasps spilling from her lips. Kiera pressed harder, her tongue teasing, exploring, drawing Izzy closer and closer to the edge with every calculated movement.
Izzy let out a broken moan, her hips lifting against Kiera’s mouth, one hand gripping the railing while the other stayed tangled in Kiera’s hair. "Don’t stop," her voice cracked, desperate.
Kiera glanced up, catching the wrecked expression on Izzy’s face — her parted lips, the blush blooming across her skin, how her eyes were squeezed shut with pleasure. It made Kiera’s stomach tighten with a rush of satisfaction that had nothing to do with ego and everything to do with the fact that she was the one making Izzy fall apart like this.
She didn’t slow down, didn’t stop, not until Izzy was gasping her name over and over like a prayer. Her body tensed, trembling, then shattering in Kiera’s hands.
Izzy exhaled sharply, collapsing back against the stairs. Kiera pressed a lingering kiss against her inner thigh before shifting up, kissing a slow path back up Izzy’s body, taking her time to explore every inch of her. When their mouths met again, Izzy kissed her like she needed Kiera for air, like she needed her closer still.
“Jesus,” Izzy finally managed when they broke apart, her voice shaky. She let out a dazed laugh, fingers trailing over Kiera’s heated cheek. “You—” she exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re unreal.”
Kiera smiled. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
Izzy let out a soft, contented hum before pulling Kiera up onto the step beside her. Izzy brushed a hand through Kiera’s hair, her thumb skimming over Kiera’s jawline.
“We really didn’t make it upstairs,” she murmured, amusement threading through the exhaustion in her voice
Kiera laughed, nudging their noses together, then reached down to take Izzy’s hand. “Not yet. But I’ve got big plans for christening the bedroom, so hurry up.”
“You’re relentless,” Izzy sighed.