Page 59 of Finally Loved

Their swaying became softer, gentler, no longer in time with the song they’d just been singing along to. Alba’s gaze slipped from Neve’s eyes to her lips and she watched them part slightly. She couldn’t tell whether it was just the music or whether she could feel both her own heart and Neve’s pounding. Her own heart felt like it was racing fast enough for the both of them.

And Neve smiled. Wide, beautiful, wondrous, real. She’d been through so much lately, but here she was, smiling sogenuinely on a dance floor with Alba, surrounded by friends who already adored her. If Alba hadn’t already been a sucker for a great smile, she’d have been a goner from that moment.

As it was, she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, her heart jump into her throat, and every muscle in her body aching to kiss Neve. She would never do it, of course, not without very clear, open, sober consent, but she’d been looked at more than enough times like that and it had always meant someone wanted to kiss her.

The lights came up.

Alba blinked, glancing around. The crowd was cheering, the music gone. The night was over.

She sucked in an unsteady breath. She’d never lost all sense of place and time like that before. It was intoxicating.Nevewas intoxicating.

She shot Neve a smile, secretive, slightly confused, and undoubtedly besotted, and stepped back slightly as space was freed up around them.

Neve didn’t let go of her hand.

When Alba looked away, Zainab’s eyes were the first ones she met. She rolled her eyes at Zainab’s knowing expression and laughed. Somehow she had both always known and had no idea at all. If she’d had the slightest inkling of how hard Alba was falling, her teasing would have been a million times worse.

Alba led the way back to their table. Nobody said anything, nobody expected her to let go of Neve—even as they gathered their things and said goodbye to those going home separately—and nobody laughed, but Alba saw the smug expressions and the questions she’d be asked at a later date as she gave them one-armed hugs, refusing to let go of Neve, even when Neve loosened her grasp to allow Alba to let go. Alba simply held on tighter until Neve tightened her grasp again.

Neither of them put their jackets on given that doing so would have required letting go, but it was a warm night, so, by the time it was just the two of them, Zainab, Tariq, and Francisco walking through the parking lot together, Alba didn’t even feel the need for a jacket.

She laughed and jiggled Neve’s arm. “Race you to the car.”

Without further warning, she took off running, dragging a squealing Neve along with her.

“I came here in a cab. I don’t even know which car we’re looking for,” Neve yelled, laughing.

“I know.”

They ran straight before taking a hard turn, and Alba raced forwards until her hand slapped against the back of Tariq’s car. She pulled Neve in, sliding her between the back of the car and her own body. With her hand still against the car, up by Neve’s face, Alba knew undoubtedly that nobody could see the moment and think it was platonic.

She almost came to her senses and stepped back, but Neve looked up at her with those wide eyes again as her free hand found Alba’s hip, and every bone in Alba’s body was certain a friend had never touched her there.

“I win,” she whispered breathlessly, her face close to Neve’s.

Neve hummed as she pressed her lips together briefly. “Does it count if I didn’t know what the finish line looked like?”

Alba laughed. “It definitely does.”

“Would it have counted ifyouhadn’t known what the finish line was?”

Alba loved Neve like this—cheeky and open and relaxed. She loved every version of her, but there was something about this version that seemed like the most real, most concealed version of her, and Alba loved every second she got being around it. “Maybe. Perhaps we’ll have to race again and see.”

“Maybe.”

Alba didn’t miss the moment Neve’s gaze flickered to her lips. Every part of her body felt alive. She could feel her chest heaving, begging her to lean in.

Someone cleared their throat from behind Alba.

She jumped back slightly, turning to see Zainab giving her a very pointed look, Francisco shooting an amused look at Neve, and Tariq trying desperately to stifle a smile as they fidgeted with their keys.

Alba had been right to assume the moment hadn’t looked platonic.

She wasn’t really sure what to do with that, though.

“Are we standing out here all night, or shall we go home?” Zainab asked, her voice thick with amusement. “Pretty sure I have some cake back there that I could do with a slice of.”

Alba shot her a look. “We just had cake.”

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