“I am a journalist,” Jamie replied. “I know hallway behavior.”
Erin covered her mouth. Harper shook her head.
Jamie took a long sip of champagne. “They are absolutely making out.”
Erin exchanged a look with Harper.
Harper shrugged.
Jamie wasn’t subtle.
But she was probably right.
Forty Seven
Tilly woke up with a kink in their neck and the faint smell of champagne still clinging to the apartment.
The couch was shorter than they remembered. Or maybe they’d just curled in too tight, trying to take up less space than necessary. They lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling fan, listening.
No voices. No movement. Just the low hum of the refrigerator and the muffled quiet of a place that had been full not long ago.
They hadn’t gone to Savannah’s bed.
They could have. She’d been warm and pliant in their arms the night before, kissing them as if she were afraid they’d disappear again. But Tilly had felt the line there, thin and dangerous. Stay close. Don’t crowd.
The couch had been the compromise.
They sat up slowly, wincing as their neck protested, and scrubbed a hand over their face. Their jacket was folded over the back of the chair. The door lined up their shoes like they were a guest who hadn’t quite earned the right to unpack.
They heard movement in the bedroom.
Tilly stayed still.
The door opened a minute later. Savannah stepped out, hair a mess, one of Tilly’s old sweatshirts pulled on over bare legs. She stopped short when she saw them on the couch.
“Oh,” she said, the word sharp with surprise.
“Hey,” Tilly said quickly, keeping their voice low. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Savannah pressed a hand to her chest, then dropped it, embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“I didn’t want to leave,” Tilly said. Then, softer, “But I didn’t want to assume.”
Savannah nodded like that landed. She glanced around the living room, at the empty cups and discarded streamers, the evidence of a night she’d hosted while holding herself together by sheer will.
“I was going to clean up,” she said.
“I can help,” Tilly offered immediately.
Savannah shook her head. “It’s fine. I just… needed to move.”
She crossed to the kitchen and started stacking cups without really looking at them. Tilly watched her for a second too long, then stood.
“Sav?” they said.
She paused, not turning around. “Yeah?”
Tilly took a breath. This wasn’t the apology yet. This was the doorway to it.
