Not when she was already braced for disappointment. Not when she didn’t trust herself to look hopeful and be wrong.
She only turned when she heard Tilly’s voice.
“Hey. Sorry, I’m late.”
Their hair was wind-messed. Their jacket was still half-zipped. Their hands were in their pockets like they didn’t know what to do with them.
Their eyes found hers immediately.
Savannah looked away just as fast.
Too fast.
Jamie noticed. Harper noticed. Tilly noticed most of all.
Tilly hovered at the edge of the room for a beat, clearly unsure, then grabbed a plastic cup and came to stand beside her like it didn’t mean anything. Like their mouth hadn’t been on her neck weeks ago. Like they hadn’t left things unresolved and raw between them.
The countdown music swelled.
Ten.
Nine.
Savannah stared at the TV, pulse loud in her ears.
Eight.
Seven.
Tilly leaned closer, not touching her, just close enough to feel. “I didn’t know if you wanted me here,” they murmured.
Her throat tightened. She nodded once, unable to speak.
Six.
Five.
Tilly hesitated, like they were still fighting with themselves. Like they were still afraid of being the problem.
Four.
Three.
Savannah turned then. Really turned.
She met Tilly’s eyes and saw it all there. The apology they hadn’t figured out how to say. The regret. The wanting.
Two.
Their hand brushed hers.
Not accidentally.
One.
The room erupted.
Happy New Year rang out around them, champagne popping, laughter spilling over itself.
