Chapter Eleven
Celeste
Celeste's hands shook as she fastened her seatbelt. The click of the buckle seemed absurdly loud in the silent car.
Why did I do that?
She'd kissed Ruby without the thinking or planning that usually accompanied every decision she made. Ruby had been standing there in the sunlight, grinning about a sparrow named Sparkle, and Celeste's self-control had simply evaporated.
It made no sense. She'd spent so many years perfecting the art of restraint, of keeping her desires locked away where no one could see them. And then Ruby had smiled at her with that ridiculous, unguarded joy, and every wall she had built came crashing down.
She couldn't even blame it on the moment. Yes, they'd just saved a bird's life, or at least given it a fighting chance, and the relief had been overwhelming. But that didn't explain the want that had been building all day.
Ruby settled into the passenger seat, and Celeste waited for awkwardness or for her to demand an explanation or attempt to do something to break the terrible tension.
Instead, Ruby just said in a straightforward tone, “So, there's clearly an attraction between us. Why not explore it?”
The directness of it stole Celeste's breath. No games or pretense. Just Ruby laying it out plainly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Her laugh came out strangled. “Why not? Because I made certain decisions a long time ago about how I'd live my life. And I intend to keep living that way.”
“And yet you kissed me.”
The observation hung between them, undeniable.
“That was—” She pulled onto the road, focusing on the merge with more intensity than it required. “A mistake.”
“Was it?”
Ruby was watching her patiently and knowingly and entirely too perceptive. Like she could see straight through every excuse Celeste was scrambling to construct.
“I'm attracted to you,” Celeste admitted, because what was the point in denying it now?
Ruby had felt it in that kiss, had tasted it on Celeste's lips.
“Every fiber of my being wants to touch you, hold you and kiss you again.
But I can't. I made my choice years ago, and I'm not changing course now.”
Even as she said it, she knew how weak and unconvincing it sounded.
“If that's the case,” Ruby murmured, “then you don't have as much control as you think you do.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means you already kissed me. The perfect control you're so proud of? It already failed.”
Annoyance flared hot in Celeste's chest—not at Ruby, but at herself and at the truth of what was just said. She’d spent years building this withdrawn life and Ruby had dismantled it in less than forty-eight hours.
She signaled abruptly, pulled into an empty gas station parking lot, and threw the car into park with more force than necessary.
“I have control. And I’ll prove it.” She leaned across the console and kissed Ruby again.
It was supposed to be quick. A point proven and then they'd move on and never speak of this again.
But Ruby's hand came up to cup the back of Celeste's neck, and the kiss deepened. She heard herself make a sound she didn't recognize, something between a gasp and a moan. Her fingers tangled in Ruby's hair, soft and perfect against her palms.
This wasn't proving anything except that she had no control at all.
Ruby's other hand found her waist, pulling her closer despite the awkward angle and the gear shift digging into Celeste's hip. She couldn't care about anything else except the way Ruby tasted, the way she felt and the small sounds she was making that drove Celeste absolutely wild.
Somewhere in the haze, she registered Ruby's tongue tracing her lower lip, and she opened for her without thinking. The kiss turned desperate. Celeste's hands moved to Ruby's shirt, fingers fumbling with buttons because she needed—God, she needed—
Ruby's hands were doing the same to her shirt, and then there was warm skin under her palms and Ruby's mouth moved to her neck, and Celeste's head fell back and oh God this was happening in a gas station parking lot in broad daylight where anyone could see…
Ruby pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, one eyebrow raised. The look was eloquent: See? This is what happens when you try to prove a point.
Reality crashed back in like cold water. Celeste yanked her hands away, refastening her buttons with shaking fingers. Her shirt was half-open and Ruby's was worse. They were both breathing hard, swollen, and Celeste's hair had come completely loose from its ponytail.
“That was yet another lapse in judgment. I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
Ruby was still watching her, and Celeste could feel the weight of her gaze. “It doesn’t need to be this way.”
Celeste stared ahead, her hands gripping the wheel.
“When I was nine, my cousin Marco came out to the family. He was living in Italy, engaged to a man. My grandmother—” She swallowed hard, forcing the words out.
“She cut him off completely and told everyone he was dead to her.
The whole family followed her lead. I haven't seen Marco in twenty-five years.”
She could still remember that day. The phone call from Italy. Her grandmother's face going hard and cold. The way Vittoria had gathered the family together and announced that Marco no longer existed to them. That they were to never speak his name again.
Celeste had been too young to understand fully. But she'd understood enough to be terrified.
Ruby's sharp intake of breath was audible.
“My grandmother grew up dirt poor in a tiny village in Italy. Her family expected her to marry and continue that same cycle. But she risked everything and came to America on her own,” Celeste continued, the words tumbling out now.
“And built a life from scratch. She gave up everything so her children and grandchildren could have opportunities she never had. And I became exactly what she dreamed of. A successful and respected lawyer.” Her hands tightened on the wheel until her knuckles went white.
“I can't lose that, or her, or anyone else.”
The twins' faces flashed through her mind. Theo's gap-toothed grin and Luna's thoughtfulness. The way they looked at her like she hung the moon.
What would they think if they knew? Would they still look at her the same way?
“That's not your burden to carry.” Ruby's voice was thick with emotion. “What happened to Marco, that's on them, not you. You shouldn't have to hide who you are because your family can't handle the truth.”
Celeste shook her head, finally looking at Ruby. “You don't understand. Your family—when you came out, what happened?”
Ruby was quiet for a moment. “They were fine with it. Supportive, even. My mom threw me a 'congrats on the gay' party with rainbow cupcakes.”
“Exactly.” She felt tears prick her eyes and blinked them back furiously. “You don't know what it's like to know that being yourself could cost you everything. To watch someone you love be erased because of who they love. I can't and I won’t risk that.”
“I'm sorry that happened to your cousin. And I'm sorry you've been carrying that fear all these years. But hiding yourself, that’s costing you too. Your own life and happiness.”
Celeste didn't respond. Because even if Ruby was right, there was nothing that could be done.
They drove in silence for a while, the tension gradually easing into something less fraught but still heavy. Eventually, they stopped at a convenience store, one of those massive places that sold everything from lottery tickets to lawn furniture.
“I need caffeine,” Ruby announced, unbuckling her seatbelt. “And probably sugar. Lots of sugar.”
Celeste followed her inside, grateful for the distraction. The fluorescent lights were harsh after the afternoon sun, making everything feel surreal and slightly off-kilter.
Ruby made a beeline for the soda fountain. “What do you want? I'm buying.”
“You don't have to.”
“I'm buying,” she repeated. “Consider it payment for putting up with my chaos.”
“That would require significantly more than a fountain drink.”
Ruby released a bark of laughter. “Fair point. How about this, I'll buy you a drink now, and I'll continue to owe you indefinitely.”
“That seems like a bad deal for me.”
“Probably.” She was already filling a cup with what appeared to be seven different sodas mixed together. “But think of it as an investment in future adventures. I'm very good at adventures.”
“I've noticed.”
Celeste ordered a coffee—desperately needed after the emotional whiplash of the past hour—and they wandered the aisles while they drank. Ruby kept picking up random items and making up stories about them.
“This belonged to a cowboy named Slim Jim.,”
She held up a packet of beef jerky. I bet you didn't know that. It’s his actual name and not a marketing ploy at all.”
“That's completely false.”
“Prove it.”
Celeste found herself smiling. “I'm not dignifying that with a response.”
“That's because you can't prove it. Slim Jim is very real. I met him once.”
“Now you're just making things up.”
“Am I though?” Ruby's grin was infectious. “Are you willing to bet your legal reputation on it?”
“My legal reputation is not at stake in a discussion about beef jerky.”
“Everything is at stake in a discussion about beef jerky. That's literally the foundation of American jurisprudence.”
Celeste laughed, the sound surprising her. How did Ruby do this? How did she make Celeste forget, even for a moment, all the reasons this was impossible?
They paid for their drinks and some snacks for the road: chips that Ruby insisted were “essential for proper road trip nutrition” and candy that Celeste knew would make her teeth ache. Back in the car, the silence felt different. Less fraught and more thoughtful.
Memphis appeared on the horizon as the sun began to set, the skyline painted in shades of gold and deep pink. The city looked almost dreamlike in the fading light, the buildings silhouetted against the colorful sky.