Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
Izzy
Izzy wasn’t sure how they made it up the stairs, tangled as they were in sloppy, desperate, exhilarated kisses and wandering hands. Every step they took was interrupted — Kiera pressing Izzy back against the wall, Izzy pulling Kiera closer until their bodies were flush, their mouths meeting again and again like they were making up for lost time. Each kiss deepened, more insistent, more consuming, until neither of them could think beyond the heat of the other’s body.
By the time they finally stumbled into the bedroom, they were both laughing and tripping over boxes — breathless, full of anticipation. Kiera reached for Izzy, but this time, Izzy was the one who guided her backward until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. Kiera fell backwards, bouncing slightly against the mattress, looking up at Izzy with dark, wanting eyes, her lips parted, her breath uneven.
Izzy climbed over her, knees bracketing Kiera’s hips, and kissed her again — slow and deep, her weight settling fully as their bodies rocked together in a steady, deliberate rhythm. This time, there was a different kind of urgency — one threaded with a deeper intimacy, a need to touch, to explore, to memorize every inch of each other. Kiera’s body was utter perfection, lush and curved and soft. Kiera’s breasts demanded far, far more exploration, and her nipples peaked against Izzy’s fingers, drawing a gentle gasp from Kiera’s mouth.
Kiera’s fingers skimmed over the sensitive skin at Izzy’s hips, making her shiver. Izzy’s own hands continued their languid exploration down Kiera’s body, fingertips tracing the soft curve of her waist, the heat between her thighs. Kiera gasped at the touch, her body arching, her fingers digging into Izzy’s skin with desperation.
They found a rhythm, hands moving with growing purpose — searching, adjusting, responding. Izzy dragged her fingers through the slick heat between Kiera’s thighs, slow and deliberate, just enough pressure to make Kiera’s breath stutter and her hips roll into the touch. Kiera’s hand slipped between Izzy’s legs in return, hesitant at first, then more confident when Izzy moaned low against her shoulder, her body tipping forward with the intensity of it.
Kiera like this — open, responsive, chasing her own pleasure — undid Izzy completely. Not just the heat of her skin or the way she gasped when Izzy’s mouth skimmed over her chest, but the way she gave in to it. No walls, no second-guessing, just raw want. Izzy wanted to memorize every shift of her hips, every tremble in her thighs, every breath that caught when Izzy's fingers moved just right.
They didn’t speak, didn’t need to. Their bodies communicated in short exhales and tightening grips. Izzy had spent so long keeping herself reined in, but this — this felt like permission to let go.
The pressure built, slowly at first, then all at once — a rush beneath her skin, a demand she didn’t want to deny. “Come for me,” she whispered, voice rough as she kissed along the side of Kiera’s neck, teeth scraping gently before her lips soothed the sting. Their hands kept moving, synced without effort now, chasing release together.
Kiera’s thighs tightened around her, stomach pulled taut as her hips jerked once, twice — the kind of full-body tension Izzy had already learned to read. She leaned in and grazed her teeth along Kiera’s jaw, feeling the way Kiera’s breath hitched, how her fingers dug into Izzy’s back like she was trying to hold on through the rush of it. “Good girl,” she gasped. The next words came in stutters as she pitched closer toward the edge: “Let go. Just like that.”
A moan escaped Kiera’s lips as she trembled beneath Izzy’s touch. The sound, the feeling of Kiera falling apart in her arms, was enough to send Izzy over the edge right after, her own release crashing into her like a tidal wave. Everything else dropped away: just their ragged breathing, the grip of fingers against skin, and the wild, unsteady thud of their hearts.
Izzy lay still, her skin cooling, heart starting to slow as Kiera’s breath tickled the edge of her shoulder. Everything felt a little disoriented — her limbs heavy, her thoughts sluggish — but not in a bad way. More like she’d been poured out and hadn’t quite settled back into herself. Kiera’s lips brushed her shoulder again, and Izzy didn’t flinch or pull away. She just breathed.
Kiera’s fingers traced lazy shapes across her back, and Izzy focused on that — on the quiet, repetitive movement, the solid weight of her next to her. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was calm. Steady. And maybe that’s what caught her off guard most — the steadiness. Not having to guess what came next, not having to armor up or keep her distance.
The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing evening out. And somewhere underneath the leftover adrenaline and the rising awareness of how emotionally exposed she felt, Izzy could tell: she didn’t want to leave this. Whatever this was. It didn’t come with guarantees. But it made her want to stay long enough to see what might happen.
Morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains of Kiera’s bedroom, casting pale shadows across the sheets. Izzy lay on her side, Kiera’s body warm against her. It was comfortably quiet, and the silence felt like a bubble around them, fragile but full of something unspoken.
Izzy watched Kiera’s face, relaxed in sleep, her breath slow and steady. A soft pang of tenderness hit her square in the chest.
She didn’t know how to explain what had happened the night before — not out loud, not yet. But she felt it in the way they’d fit together without needing to talk it through, how hesitation had shifted into certainty. At first, their hands had been unsure, searching; but slowly, they’d started to figure each other out. The way Kiera gasped when Izzy curled her fingers just right. The way Izzy’s breath caught when Kiera mouthed along her collarbone. They adjusted. They learned. By the end, it felt less like guessing and more like remembering — as if their bodies already knew the language, even if their mouths hadn’t caught up yet.
Kiera stirred, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks before her eyes opened, still hazy with sleep. She blinked at Izzy with a slow, sleepy smile. "Hey," Kiera murmured, her voice rough with sleep.
Izzy’s heart did an embarrassingly traitorous flip. "Hey."
For a moment, they just lay there, caught up in something that felt dangerously close to more .
Then Kiera’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the spell.
Izzy couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. "Romantic.”
Kiera laughed, cheeks flushing a delicate pink. “I used up my romance quota last night.”
“Oh, was that romance? The part where you fucked me on the stairs?” Izzy teased.
Kiera’s eyes flashed and she leaned in to kiss to Izzy’s jaw. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“Oh, I wasn’t complaining at all,” Izzy clarified.
Kiera nuzzled into Izzy’s neck. “It’s funny. I’ve thought about this for so long, and now…”
Izzy sighed contentedly. “Did it live up to the hype?
“I think I’d put exceeds expectations on your review,” Kiera said, her face still nuzzled in Izzy’s neck.
Izzy blinked in surprise. “Really?” She pulled back to look down at Kiera, her thumb brushing along Kiera’s jawline. “Does that mean I get a raise?”
Kiera’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Sorry, best I can offer is more sex.”
Izzy laughed. “All this time, I thought I was the only one. We could have been having kitchen counter sex for decades .”
Kiera playfully nipped at Izzy’s collarbone, and then her thigh found its way between Izzy’s knees. “Literal decades.”
They eventually untangled themselves from the sheets and padded to the kitchen. Kiera made coffee while Izzy sat on the counter, swinging her legs, trying not to think about how comfortable this all felt.
The mundane act of making breakfast felt intimate in a way that surprised Izzy. It wasn’t big gestures that undid her — it was the small moments of closeness that made her feel loved.
“I would just like to announce that I formally retract my cheese statement,” Kiera said, holding a spatula in her hand, her brunette waves adorably mussed, her glasses slipping down her nose. “I think I was mistaken. I would not be choosing cheese over any of what happened on this counter.” She pointed with her spatula.
Izzy laughed. “We aim to please.”
Kiera looked at her a little shyly, then bit her lip. “So, what happens now?”
“What do you mean?” Izzy asked, buttering a piece of toast.
“Like…” Kiera angled the spatula toward Izzy, then back toward herself. “What… do we do now?”
“I have a few ideas,” Izzy said with an exaggerated wink.
“I do want to talk more about my offer in Nebraska. And this townhouse. And?—”
“Do we really need to decide anything right now? We’ve been waiting forever for this, right? Can’t we just bask in it a little longer?” Izzy interrupted, hopping off the counter to wrap an arm around Kiera’s waist, desperate to keep ahold of the fragile moment, the ease of the morning. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. She could see Kiera’s body tense as the question landed like an insult.
Kiera’s body felt stiff as she tried to force a nonchalant nod. “Oh, um, yeah. You’re right,” she said, clearing her throat and pushing her glasses back up her nose with the back of her hand. “We have time for all of that.”
Izzy could feel the shift in the room. Kiera pushed the scrambled eggs around the pan in silence.
“What’s on your agenda for today?” Kiera asked with a tone that Izzy could hear was slightly strained.
Izzy cleared her throat. “I have that big meeting with Pete tomorrow for the project you helped me with, so I’ll be out of commission for most of today, but then I was thinking maybe we could do dinner tonight?”
“I’ll be with the girls,” Kiera said, and Izzy hated how Kiera’s tone suggested that Izzy wasn’t invited. “It’s their first night in the new place… Maybe tomorrow night?”
Izzy didn’t want to admit that she felt disappointed. She understood exactly where Kiera was coming from, and she didn’t want her own selfish desires to get in the way. “Sure, of course. Tomorrow sounds great.”
Pete leaned back in her chair at Second Star’s main office — Pete's dining room table — crossing her arms and giving Izzy a knowing look. The remnants of their celebratory lunch, a veritable feast of half-eaten sandwiches and an empty plate of pastries, were scattered across the table. Gladys was lying nearby, enjoying a few slices of turkey that Pete had slipped to her.
The partnership Izzy had been chasing — a major mentorship organization that had been highly recommended by Sage Carson — had been her biggest challenge yet. It wasn’t just about expanding their outreach. It was about proving that Second Star had the infrastructure, the vision, and the leadership to handle something stateside.
When she’d first pitched the idea to Pete, her voice had trembled with doubt, but Pete’s enthusiasm had been unwavering. Still, finalizing the partnership had taken a lot of determination. She spearheaded the project, fine-tuned details late into the night, and fought to ensure that Second Star’s mission didn’t get lost. Then, finally, after weeks of back-and-forth, the agreement was official.
The victory wasn’t just hers — it was the kind of breakthrough that would help communities across the country. And Kiera had helped with an essential planning part of it.
“So,” Pete started, breaking the comfortable silence. “You gonna let yourself celebrate this win? Because this new partnership isn’t something you just brush off like it’s no big deal.”
Izzy let out a laugh, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table. “It’s… huge. I know. I just—” She hesitated, rolling a pen between her fingers. “It still feels like I’m waiting for you to realize you made a mistake by letting me lead on this.”
“ Ex-fucking-cuse me , Isabel Tierney?!” Pete balked, her brows high.
Izzy gave a weak smile, the weight of imposter syndrome still clinging stubbornly to her shoulders. “It just doesn’t feel real. Like… this is your baby, Pete. You built Second Star from the ground up. You just gave me a job because we’re friends.”
Pete snorted. “Because we’re friends? You’re kidding me, right? You convinced an organization with national reach to partner with us. You presented the idea, you led those meetings, you handled the details. You’re not just helping — you’re steering the damn ship.”
Izzy shifted in her seat, the praise making her uncomfortable, though a tiny part of her clung to it like a life raft. “Everything is happening so fast. I keep thinking I’m going to screw it up.”
Pete leaned forward, her voice gentler now. “I get it, but you’re not going to screw it up. You are not the same hesitant person who began this job unsure of their direction. You've had incredible ideas to grow what we're doing, that I wouldn't have even thought of.”
A sense of accomplishment sank in slowly. She had led the project. Not Pete, not anyone else. Her.
Pete’s expression was sincere. “Iz, come on. You earned this. The job wasn’t a pity offer, and I’ve never doubted my decision to bring you on.”
Izzy took a beat, absorbing the words. She picked at the edge of her notebook, then glanced up. “Do you ever feel like you’ve finally figured your shit out, but instead of feeling settled, you just... start looking for the exit? Like some part of you is already scanning for the next move, even if nothing’s wrong?”
Pete’s smile looked suddenly sad. “Are you kidding? I started Second Star because I was bad at staying still. But that’s not a sign of failure. It’s a sign that you’re still growing. You’re allowed to grow. You’re allowed to want more, to do more.”
Izzy nodded slowly, her gaze dropping back down to the table.
Pete’s brows lifted with curiosity. “What’s going on?”
She thought of Kiera — her laugh, her eyes, the awkwardness of their goodbye yesterday morning. Izzy swallowed hard. “I think I fucked things up with Kiera.”
Pete didn’t press, just offered a small smile. “I doubt that. Kiera seems head over heels for you. I bet you could start wearing cargo shorts and she’d not only tell you they looked good but also defend their usefulness.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Well, unfortunately, I panicked yesterday when she tried to talk about the future.”
“Yeesh.” Pete grimaced, which didn’t make Izzy feel better at all. “Why?”
Izzy rubbed at her temple. “I think I’m figuring out I don’t know how to be still in love. I only know how to reach for it."
“Well, here’s what I know. Danica and I got our second chance. We remembered just how much we liked each other. And then because we didn't actually communicate with each other about what was going on, we didn't talk for months. Months where we were miserable.”
“Oh, I remember.” Izzy grimaced.
“And you meddled, giving her my location in the airport, if I remember correctly,” Pete added. “And didn’t you fake sick, too?”
Izzy felt a grin tug at the corner of her mouth. “Which I have no regrets about. You two just needed to get out of your own way.”
Pete looked at her for a long moment, eyebrows raised. “And I would like to extend the courtesy back to you in this moment. If you’re scared of stillness, that’s only because you’ve never had someone fully reciprocate love back to you, and so you’re sabotaging it before it even gets to the good part. Pull your head out of your ass and go fix it. I will not tolerate months of wallowing when I know that a simple conversation can change this. You want to be with her. Don’t be such a baby.”
Izzy sat with the words. Pete was right. She’d messed up this morning by not letting Kiera be honest with her. Kiera hadn’t pushed her away. She hadn’t disappeared. Izzy had misread the pause, assumed silence meant retreat. But it didn’t. Not this time. If she wanted something to come of this — really come of it — she had to stop waiting and say what she felt.
Because this wasn’t just about hooking up. She liked being around Kiera. She liked the quiet steadiness of her. The way her presence made things feel less chaotic. And if there was a chance for more — for something steady, something that could actually last — Izzy didn’t want to waste it by letting Kiera move away without knowing exactly how she felt. And if Kiera needed to move, she was going to fucking figure that out, too, even if it meant spending much more time than she’d like in Nebraska, visiting her and the girls.
“That was like, some really tough love,” Izzy said after a long while.
Pete smiled, giving her a gentle punch on the shoulder. “I’m just basking in the idea that it’s finally my turn to be the voice of reason.”
Heart pounding with a powerful combination of hope and nerves, she drove to the townhouse. She rehearsed what she might say — I do want this. I want you. The whole package. Let’s make it official. She took a deep breath before knocking, the memory of that epic night they’d spent together still fresh and tangled in her chest.
Kiera opened the door with a confused smile. “Hi,” she said.
“Hey.” Izzy took a deep breath. “I just needed to tell you—” She was interrupted as two little heads popped out from behind Kiera — Eliza and Quinn, both wearing oversized pajamas, grins wide and messy with paint, or perhaps frosting.
Eliza giggled, grabbing Izzy’s hand without hesitation. "Izzy! We’re playing princess-pirates! I can make you a crown."
Before Izzy could react, she was being tugged inside, watching Kiera shake her head with a bemused smile. Kiera walked back into the kitchen, looking absolutely stunning in a soft cream sweater and jeans. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun, and Izzy’s stomach fluttered at her casual beauty. Kiera's gaze met hers, shy yet welcoming.
Quinn interrupted before they could exchange a word, holding a crown made of construction paper and glitter. "You’re the pirate queen now!" Quinn declared, placing the crown precariously on Izzy’s head. "We’re about to go on a treasure hunt!"
Izzy couldn’t help but laugh. "Guess I better earn my title, huh?"
The next hour dissolved into delightful chaos. They crafted treasure maps, built pillow forts, and turned the living room into an imaginary pirate ship. Kiera played along, her laughter infectious, and Izzy couldn’t take her eyes off her — especially when Kiera looked so at ease, so happy with her girls. Kiera even seemed at ease around her, like she was glad Izzy was here with her.
At one point, while Kiera and Eliza debated whether the couch cushions were a good hiding place for their treasure, Quinn crawled into Izzy’s lap with her favorite stuffed bunny. "Do you love my mommy?" Quinn asked in a whisper, looking at her with wide, curious eyes.
Izzy froze, the question landing like a small, sharp stone tossed into still water. Her eyes flicked toward Kiera — who was laughing as Eliza climbed over the arm of the couch, her cheeks pink from the effort — and something in Izzy’s chest shifted. She thought of the way Kiera always made space for other people, how her hands were always busy caring for someone else, but she still managed to look at Izzy like she mattered. How she was still figuring herself out but trying. Really trying.
“Yeah,” Izzy said quietly, her voice low and honest. “Yeah, I do.”
She didn’t notice Kiera looking over until it was too late — her head tilted, lips parted like she'd caught the tail end of something unexpected.
Izzy met her eyes, heart tripping in her chest. But Kiera didn’t say anything. Not yet.
"She’s really great, isn’t she?” Izzy whispered conspiratorially.
“She’s the best.” Izzy’s arms wrapped around Quinn without thinking, and the feeling that settled in her chest was sharp and bright, like being handed something fragile and precious.
Later, after Kiera took the girls upstairs for baths and pajamas and Izzy picked up toys and began to clean the kitchen, Kiera came down to join her.
Kiera wiped down the counter, her voice quiet. "They really like you."
Izzy placed a plate in the dishwasher, glancing up with a bashful smile. "Yeah? I like them, too. They’re… amazing."
Kiera turned to face her, holding a towel in her hands. "You’re so good with them."
Izzy hesitated before answering, her throat tight with emotion. "I didn’t expect to feel so, um… It was really easy to hang out with them."
Kiera took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
For a heartbeat, Izzy thought Kiera might kiss her, but instead, Kiera reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Izzy’s ear. The tenderness of the gesture made Izzy’s breath catch.
Eliza's voice, calling from the hall, interrupted them before either could speak. "Mama, Quinn stole my blanket!"
"Duty calls." Kiera’s soft laugh made Izzy’s insides swirl with affection and tenderness.
Izzy watched her disappear down the hallway, heart pounding, realizing that she wasn’t just falling for Kiera. She was falling for everything that came with her — the girls, the chaos, the laughter. All of it.
When Kiera returned downstairs, they curled up on the couch together, watching a mindless sitcom. Halfway through the episode, Kiera rested her head on Izzy’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry for what I said yesterday morning,” Izzy said finally, taking an unsteady breath. “I panicked, and I should have listened to your concerns so we could talk through it instead of acting like they weren’t important.”
“And I think I could be more realistic about what it truly means for you to consider being with me. It’s not just me you’re signing up for. I’m a package deal, you know?” Kiera said. “We can take our time, if you want to figure some things out.”
Izzy just reached out, squeezing Kiera’s hand gently. "I’m ready for the next step when you are. I love you, Kiera.”
Kiera’s eyes stayed locked on hers for a moment. Izzy held the silence like a breath, waiting for it to shift into something — a word, a nod, even just the soft yes, I love you, too she was hoping for. But Kiera didn’t say anything. Just looked at her, eyes wide and unreadable. And that look — that not knowing — dug in deeper than any spoken rejection might have.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull her hand back. She just nodded like she understood, even if she didn’t yet.
Because this was always the risk, wasn’t it? Wanting someone who was still figuring out if they could want you back.
Her stomach twisted, but she kept her smile gentle, careful. She’d meant what she said — she was ready. But now, she had to accept that maybe Kiera wasn’t. Maybe she never would be. And Izzy would have to decide what to do with that truth — how much she was willing to wait, and how long she could sit in uncertainty without losing herself in it.