The city lights twinkle below us like fallen stars as I adjust the blanket on our makeshift rooftop bed. Zoe’s sprawled next to me, her dark curls catching the golden glow of the string lights we hung earlier. My heart does that familiar flutter it always does when she’s close – something that’s been happening more and more lately.
“Read me something spicy from one of your BookTok recommendations,” Zoe teases, nudging my shoulder. My cheeks burn instantly, and I’m grateful for the dim lighting.
“You’re never going to let me live down my reading choices, are you?” I laugh, trying to hide my nervousness. The truth is, those romance novels have started hitting differently since I realized my feelings for her weren’t strictly friendly.
“Never,” she grins, shifting closer. “Come on, Lily, share the goods. What’s the steamiest scene you’ve read this week?”
I grab my water bottle instead of answering, taking a long drink to buy time. “How about we talk about your obsession with KatsEye instead?”
“Don’t deflect,” she says, but she’s already reaching for her phone to play her favorite song. The familiar beats fill the night air, and she starts moving her shoulders to the rhythm. “Though I do love how you pretend to hate my music.”
“I don’t pretend,” I protest, but we both know it’s not true. I’ve grown to love everything she loves, even if I’d never admit it.
A breeze sweeps across the rooftop, and Zoe shivers slightly. Without thinking, I adjust the blanket to cover her better, my fingers brushing against her arm. The contact sends electricity through my skin.
“You always take care of me,” she says softly, and something in her voice makes me look up. She’s watching me with an expression I’ve never seen before, or maybe I’ve just never let myself see it.
“That’s what best friends are for,” I manage to say, though the words feel wrong in my mouth. They’re not enough anymore.
“Is that what we are?” Zoe asks, and my heart stops. “Best friends?”
I force myself to meet her eyes, trying to read what’s behind them. “What else would we be?”
She sits up, hugging her knees to her chest. “I don’t know, Lily. Sometimes I wonder if… if there’s more.”
My pulse is racing so fast I’m sure she can hear it. “More?”
“I saw you watching me at swim practice last week,” she says, and I freeze. “Not like you usually do. Different.”
“I wasn’t—” I start to deny it, but she cuts me off.
“And I liked it,” she whispers. “I liked knowing you were watching me.”
The city noise below fades away, and all I can hear is my own heartbeat and Zoe’s quiet breathing. “I always watch you,” I confess. “I can’t help it.”
She reaches out, her fingers finding mine in the darkness. “I’ve been trying so hard not to feel this,” she says. “You’re my best friend, Lily. I didn’t want to mess that up.”
“You couldn’t,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You couldn’t mess anything up.”
She laughs softly. “Says the girl who gets flustered when I just mention her spicy books.”
“That’s different,” I protest, but I’m laughing too, even as my face heats up again.
“Is it?” She shifts closer, and suddenly the air between us feels electric. “Because sometimes I think about being in one of those books with you.”
My breath catches. “Zoe…”
“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” she whispers, and then she’s leaning in, her free hand coming up to cup my cheek.
The kiss is soft, tentative, nothing like the confident Zoe I know. It’s perfect. When we break apart, I can see the vulnerability in her eyes, the same fear I’ve been carrying.
“You’re not reading it wrong,” I say, and this time I’m the one who leans in.
Above us, the stars shine dimly through the city’s light pollution, but I swear they’ve never looked brighter. Zoe pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against mine.
“We should have done this ages ago,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Better late than never,” I reply, snuggling closer as she wraps an arm around me.
We spend the rest of the night talking, really talking, about all the moments we’d missed or misread, all the times we’d both wanted to say something but couldn’t find the courage. The sun rises over Brooklyn, painting the sky in pinks and oranges, and I realize that all those romance novels got it wrong. Reality is so much better.