Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alba hovered near the stove, a wooden spoon in hand, even though she hadn’t actually stirred the sauce in the last thirty seconds.
She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know that Ellie was watching her.
She could feel her. She always felt her.
It was ridiculous, really. That awareness and the way it settled low in Alba’s stomach, distracting her from something as simple as cooking.
She’d made this dish a hundred times before—something easy and comforting—but tonight, her hands felt less steady, and her thoughts felt just out of reach.
“You’re staring,” she said as she focused on the sauce to go with their baked chicken.
Ellie exhaled a soft sigh. “I am, yes.”
“It’s not that exciting, you know.” Alba smiled to herself, her gaze still fixed on the pan. “It’s just pasta and some chicken.”
“I’m…not looking at the pasta.”
Right. Of course she wasn’t. Alba swallowed as her grip tightened around the spoon. She had to concentrate. “You’re going to make me mess this up.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” Ellie’s voice was right behind her this time. She was so close that Alba felt the shift in the room immediately. “It smells incredible, by the way.”
“Flattery will not speed this along.” She quickly glanced over her shoulder, only to find Ellie staring back at her with a smirk.
“I’m not trying to speed it along.”
Alba took a calming breath, then turned around.
She could keep her wits about her, she knew that, but Ellie did make it painfully hard.
It was the creases around her eyes when she smiled fully or when she laughed from deep within herself.
It was…the mere fact that Ellie was even breathing the same air as her.
Ellie stood at the kitchen counter, her arms folded loosely, watching Alba as though she was committing her to memory.
It was intense, but it wasn’t one of those looks that made Alba feel uncomfortable.
No, it was far worse than that. It was soft and intentional.
God, the look in her eyes almost took Alba’s breath away.
She turned back to the stove as her pulse picked up. “Five minutes. Then we can sit down to eat.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Alba stilled for a second, noting the shift in Ellie’s tone. “Go on.”
“Today in the staff room.” Ellie’s voice softened. “You said other people were making you uncomfortable.”
Ah. There it was. She’d hoped to put this conversation off a little longer. Not avoid it entirely—she knew Ellie would circle back—but just…delay it for a while. Alba exhaled slowly, and then she cleared her throat. “Jeanette.”
She felt Ellie move behind her, almost certain she’d just stepped closer. “What about her?”
Alba shrugged. “She caught me on the stairs this morning and asked if we’d come into work together.” Alba really didn’t want to cause a rift between anyone, but Ellie had asked…so Ellie would get the truth. “She said people would talk and that it could look odd…because I’m a lesbian.”
Ellie crossed the space and reached for her without hesitation. “Hey.” Her hand found Alba’s arm, then slid up and rested gently against the side of her neck. “That’s bullshit.”
“Is it? It’s not exactly unexpected, Ellie.”
“I don’t care if it’s expected,” Ellie said. “It’s still wrong.”
“I just don’t want them talking about you,” Alba gazed back at Ellie, searching her face. So long as Ellie wasn’t just telling her what she wanted to hear, then Alba wouldn’t dwell on Jeanette’s comments. “They already do enough of that as it is.”
Something flickered in Ellie’s eyes. Annoyance, maybe something even deeper than that. “I don’t care what they say about me.”
“You should.” Alba snorted. “You know what they’re like.”
Ellie shook her head as she stroked her thumb against Alba’s jaw. “Do you really think I care about a few people whispering in the staff room when I get to have moments like this with you? Dinner and a quiet evening in?”
“It’s not just whispering, Ellie.”
“I know what it is. I know exactly what it is.” She searched Alba’s face. “And I still don’t care.” Alba held her gaze, aching to lean in and kiss her. “They don’t get to dictate my life, and they definitely don’t get to dictate who I spend time with.”
There it was again. That certainty, that…steadiness that Alba wasn’t used to. Not when it came to this. Not when it came to her love life. “And you’re okay with that? All of it?”
Ellie didn’t even pause to think about it. She simply lifted a shoulder and smiled. “I’m more than okay with it.”
God. This woman…
Ellie’s hand slid from Alba’s arm to her waist. It was a little tentative at first; she was most likely giving Alba time to pull away, but she didn’t.
“Alba…” Ellie’s voice dropped lower, now threaded with something else entirely.
Alba lifted a hand, her fingers brushing against Ellie’s cheek. That softness, God…it was enough to unravel Alba completely. “You’re going to ruin dinner.”
Ellie smiled. “Oh, I think it’ll be worth it.”
That did something to Alba. Something she hadn’t felt in a while now. She stepped closer, the stove forgotten as the world narrowed to the space between them.
Ellie’s eyes flicked to her mouth. “Tell me to stop.”
Alba wished she could, she wished she had more self-control, but it was pointless. She wanted Ellie Hamilton. There were no two ways about it.
Ellie stepped closer, and their bodies met, the contact settling into something that felt far too natural.
Alba’s breath stuttered as Ellie’s hand tightened at her waist, the other lifting back to her jaw.
When their lips met slowly, Alba felt it everywhere.
The warmth of Ellie, the way she leaned in as though she had an inability to hold anything back.
This wasn’t just a kiss…it was a decision. And Alba was right there with her.
Her hand slid to Ellie’s hip, pulling her closer, the contact deepening as the space between them disappeared entirely. Ellie’s breath caught against her mouth, a soft sound that sent a piercing pulse straight through Alba’s chest.
You’re in so much trouble…
God, she could lose herself in this far too easily.
Alba drew back a little. At least, enough to breathe for a moment.
“A-Alba…” Ellie blinked at her, flushed and dazed. “I…did I—?”
“No.” Alba exhaled a breath, touching her forehead to Ellie’s. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Ellie’s hand still held her jaw, grounding her. “I just…there’s no need to rush this.”
Ellie searched her face, still close enough for Alba to feel every breath. “You want to slow down?”
“I want to do this right.” Alba regarded her with a reassuring smile, even though her own pulse was still racing. “I’ve wanted you like this for weeks now. I’m not going to mess it up by rushing into something we’re not ready for.”
A small understanding smile settled on Ellie’s lips. “Okay.”
Alba exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. And then the pan hissed on the stove behind her.
Ellie glanced past her and grimaced. “Um…dinner probably needs checking.”
“R-right, yeah.” Alba turned back and tried to salvage what was left of the sauce. It seemed okay, she just hoped it didn’t taste like it was burned. “I…it’ll be a few minutes. Maybe you could have a seat or something.”
Ellie’s fingers moved slowly through Colin’s fur, her nails lightly scratching behind his ears as he lay sprawled across her lap, completely content with himself.
He’d claimed her the moment she’d sat down.
No hesitation and no second thoughts, just a heavy sigh, a shift of weight so she really knew he was there, and then he’d put his head down and hadn’t moved since.
“I think he likes me.”
“He’s obsessed with you. It’s actually a bit embarrassing.” Alba curled up beside her with her legs tucked beneath her. “Though I know how he feels, so I should probably shut up.”
Ellie smiled, her gaze drifting down to the rise and fall of Colin’s chest. Everything about this moment felt natural and easy.
It was strange, really. How something as simple as sitting on the couch with a dog asleep on her lap and Alba beside her could mean so much.
Nights like this were something she hadn’t realised she’d been missing until it was right there.
She shifted a little, careful not to wake Colin, and relaxed back into the cushions.
Her fingers slowed in Colin’s fur…and then stopped altogether.
“I used to hate evenings.” That came out almost absentmindedly, but the second it was out there, Ellie felt it.
That familiar ache rising in her chest. Alba turned her head, her attention shifting fully onto Ellie.
“It was always the worst time of day for me,” she continued, mindful not to lower the mood.
“Mornings were manageable, and work kept me busy. There was always something to focus on or something that needed doing. But evenings… They were quiet. Far too quiet.”
Ellie’s hand slid into Alba’s, anchoring her.
“It didn’t matter what I did. I could sit in front of the TV, or I could read…I could try to fill the time with anything I could get my hands on, but…everything felt empty.” Ellie paused when emotion welled in her throat. “Because she wasn’t there.”
Alba’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand in slow circles, her cheek pressed against Ellie’s shoulder.
“I used to think that was it for me. That was my life from the moment I lost her. Work during the day, and then…just existing in the evenings.” She smiled faintly as she focused on the TV, the volume now muted. “I didn’t think I’d ever want anything more than that again.”
That was the truth of it. For a long time, it had felt easier not to want anything at all. It felt safer, and it reminded Ellie she would have less to lose if she didn’t get her hopes up when it came to love, or even just some kind of companionship.